The Whole of the Moon by Brian Rogers

The Whole of the Moon by Brian Rogers

Author:Brian Rogers [Rogers, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780874175967
Publisher: University of Nevada Press


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The Actor grabbed the metal ladder and pulled himself from the pool, water beads falling all around, hitting the concrete and evaporating on the spot. For a few fleeting moments he felt chilled, surprised by the sudden cold, but he knew it would pass, and it did. Almost by the time he situated himself back onto the chaise lounge, he was dry. Only his black swimming trunks and his dark brown hair retained any wetness, and both would be dry soon enough. The Actor reached under the chaise lounge to check his phone, but no one had called.

The Armenian guy was still reading at the end of the pool, but the woman from unit 2 had disappeared. Her towel was there, her bag as well, so she was obviously not gone for good. Where did she work? he wondered. He could not remember if she had told him. He had learned not to take anyone for granted. Everyone in Los Angeles was someone’s sister, assistant, favorite barista. You never knew. It was one of his cardinal rules: Don’t be a jerk.

As it happened, the woman from unit 2 had gone inside and fixed a pitcher of margaritas. She emerged from her apartment wearing her wrap, and waved the pitcher at the Actor. You want?

She was smiling.

Well, why the hell not? It was not yet noon and already a hundred degrees.

The Actor rose and made his way to her (bringing his phone with him). Even before he reached her chaise, she was pouring some margarita into a blue plastic tumbler, the ice rattling as it fell from the pitcher. Isolate on that for a minute. Hundred degrees out. The cold ice and the green liquid. The Actor grabbed the adjacent chaise lounge, and it made a scratching sound as he pulled it over the hot concrete. He took the tumbler of margarita and pressed it against hers.

Cheers.

My personal recipe.

He could have downed it in a single gulp, very nearly did.

Plenty more where that came from.

She called out to the Armenian man. He seemed confused at the offer but then declined, smiling slightly. Let me know if you change your mind.

The woman set down her tumbler and removed her wrap. She had a freckled chest, and he saw that she was in better shape than he first thought. Was she an actress?

Nooooo.

She worked for a medical supply company, did sales, was taking the day off.

Fridays are for shit when it comes to sales, afternoons anyway.

Even before the Actor finished his margarita, she had taken his tumbler, filled it to the brim. He was not used to drinking tequila—the body is a temple—but in this heat you could drink a gallon and it would hardly affect you. The woman leaned back in her chaise lounge but the Actor sat upright, facing her. Small beads of sweat dripped off both of their bodies, and they talked for a while. He did not say anything about the FX show, about his waiting for



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