Free Game of Love by Ara Grigorian Page B

never. “Look, since you’re in LA for a couple of days, maybe we can catch up again. I don’t know, maybe get coffee or something, if you have time.”
    She stopped eating. “Your bastardized, savage English confuses me. What are you asking?”
    “I was just saying that… you know… we should hang out while you’re in LA.”
    “So you’re asking me to hang out? On a proper date? With you?”
    “If you want. If you have time.” Sweat broke out on his forehead. He picked up his coffee and drank it all.
    “I’ll think about it. After all, the way you put it sounded so enticing, I fear my stay in LA would be dreadfully dull if I don’t take you up on that offer.”
    “Nice. Laugh at the geek. What’s the score? Gemma two, Andre one?”
    “Pitiful attempt, really. By the way, you haven’t scored any points yet.”
    He eyed her. She smirked.
    “I’ll try harder.”
    “I’m sure you’ll try.”
    “Well, if you want to break away from your solitary confinement, give me a call.” He wrote his cell phone number on the Air France napkin and handed it to her. “I’m no Leonardo DiCaprio, but I have watched most of his movies.”
    She almost snorted again. “That nearly sounded like a normal invitation.” She took the napkin. “I’m curious. That last pitiful invitation notwithstanding, for someone who is a certified geek, you are a balanced chap. I would have thought someone with your background would have been… what’s the word? Less social?”
    “Wow. Hold on, I’m updating the scoreboard. If you have any more insults prepared, this may be the time to deliver them.”
    “I meant that in a positive way.”
    “Obviously. Excuse me while I call my therapist. Note to self, do not accept her Facebook invite.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with being a geek. It’s just that you’re an atypical geek.”
    “There’s another one. Gemma fifteen, Andre zero. Will I score any points?”
    “Doubt it.” She sank deep into his eyes. “By the way, it’s love.”
    “Sorry?”
    “In tennis we don’t have zero. We have love,” she said as she laid her hand on his. “Gemma fifteen, Andre love.”

    At the plane’s final descent, Andre stole glances, anticipating the end. The flight had been the best eleven hours he had ever spent. But she would be gone soon, and like it or not, he’d have to accept the impending emptiness that would follow her departure.
    When the plane landed and reached the gate, Gemma turned to Andre. “I’ll be escorted off first. Part of the celebrity thing. So let me say bye for now,” she said.
    When they rose, she kissed his cheek and then hugged him. “I’m sure we’ll talk soon.”
    Her soft lips were like a whisper on his skin. Her body warm and strong. He didn’t want to let go.
    She pulled away, her eyes trained on his. “Bye.” She gave him a warm smile, slid on her sunglasses, and followed the flight attendant.
    In that moment he had a distinct feeling he understood how sunshine impacted plants. He felt rejuvenated and unstable all at the same time, but he was certain this instability was the source of life. The uncertainty made life worth living.
    He wanted the warm pressure of her hand on his again, the hand he held during the flight. He pictured her holding tight, not letting go even during turbulence.

“We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.”

~Orson Welles
     
    he customs agent processed Gemma’s entry quickly. He also took a picture with her and asked for, and received, her autograph. When she arrived at the gate, an explosion of yells and flashbulbs disoriented her. Gemma froze, scanning for her security. Had they not been told? The crowd converged on her, and she took a tentative step back.
    “Out of the way,” someone commanded. The sea of bodies parted as her security staff closed around her, building a protective human shield. They