The movie was shown that night but I don’t remember any of it. I’d seen it before anyway and only watched Patrick because he’s Patrick. We said our goodbyes to our friends at a brief party afterward (which we attended so Patrick could make the rounds and perhaps make a connection for a more serious role next time) and left for Patrick’s house, where the ‘staff’ of two people had been given the night off.
Conglomerate Pictures, the studio behind Desert Siege, had sent over a bottle of very good champagne, so Patrick and I were on the sofa in front of a fire we didn’t need for warmth, drinking the wine and not saying much. We kissed for a while recreationally. I felt very comfortable in his arms and liked the way he brushed my hair out of my eyes.
‘So what do you think?’ he asked out of nowhere.
I knew what he meant. ‘What do I think about what?’
‘You know perfectly well what. I’ve asked you again and again. This is the last time I’ll ask. What do you think about moving in here with me? You have me under oath swearing I won’t suddenly stop being interested in you, so this is it. Will you move in here or not?’
I closed my eyes for a moment. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been thinking about it. ‘No,’ I said.
Patrick sat back on the sofa and a little champagne spilled on his shirt. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘I won’t move in here, Patrick. The place is cavernous, it’s intimidating and it’s all yours. I think we should have a place that’s ours.’
Patrick blinked three times. ‘So you will move in, but not here?’ he asked.
‘That’s what I just said, isn’t it?’
He leaned forward and took me into his arms again, but tighter. I didn’t mind that at all. After a while he laughed lightly. ‘You know, you stage-managed that moment beautifully. That was as Hollywood a thing as I’ve ever seen you do.’
‘I know.’ I pulled him in a little closer. ‘I think I’m starting to get the hang of this.’