3. Do You Like Scary Movies?
3
Do You Like Scary Movies?
I jabbed the theater self-service screen. No tickets available. It wouldn’t let me select the current showing. The movie was popular, but there was no way the theater was full during the day.
I stalked towards the concession stand to speak to an employee. A squirrely-looking guy with greasy hair filled up at the soda station, although I was pretty sure he’d scanned our tickets the other night. The hiss of bubbling foam went on forever. Someone was thirsty. However, I did not want to spend half my lunch break watching this snooze fest instead of my monster flick.
I rapped my nails on the counter. “Hey.”
He inhaled sharply and flinched, soda foam ricocheting off the extra-large cup rim.
Geez, I didn’t mean to scare him. “I want to see The Widow, but it won’t let me buy a ticket for the current showing,” I said.
He fumbled for a napkin. “The Widow?”
“Yes.” I smiled, all teeth.
He glanced at his register as he wiped off his shirt. “Uh, you can’t buy a ticket once it’s past a certain point.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll miss the movie.”
I already did—and I wasn’t about to again. “What if I’m fine with only seeing the second half? I can pay full price for a ticket. Or buy one for another movie as long as your scanner-person lets me in.”
“Uh…” This guy was out of his depth. And obviously trying not to look at my tits.
I had to expedite this situation. Bracing my palms on the counter, I leaned forward. “I hate to ask, but can I speak to your manager?”
The kid tensed. Why was he so scared? I wasn’t gonna yell at him. This would take two seconds. Maybe hanging out under the watchful eye of that spider animatronic had gotten to him.
I twisted my shoulder in an unassuming pose and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hassle him. I’d just love to solve this quickly so I can get my monster fix.”
“Oh, okay. One sec.” He dialed out on an ancient handheld with a few degrees more confidence and stuttered through a greeting and explanation to his manager. Flushing, he glanced my way. “Um, yes.”
“Yes, I can go in or—”
He shook his head and gestured to the phone. “No?” he said to the person on the other line. After a beat, he handed it to me. “He wants to talk to you.”
Cradling the receiver, I put on my sweetest customer service voice. “Hello. I’d love to see The Widow within the next forty-five minutes. Can you help me?”
A cool, graveled voice dripped from the other end of the line, scraping my insides from sternum to groin. “Do you like scary movies?”
Did I also like breathing? I twisted the curled connective wires on the phone, not sure if he was quoting the Scream film franchise villain or legitimately asking. “I guess you could say that, Ghostface.” Any horror buff would get the reference.
He chuckled. “Why would you pay full price to only watch the second half?”
“That’s when all the fun stuff happens.” Presumably, with the climax.
“And what do you consider fun, Miss…?”
“Silver.” I smirked. Was this guy flirting with me? Normally, I’d roll my eyes, but something about his calm, mysterious timbre kept me going. “I like all kinds of things.”
“Oh really?”
“Really.” My thighs chafed as I leaned on the counter. Was he going to ask me to suck his dick for a movie pass?
Squirrel-boy shuffled away from his station to grab a mop, which was probably a good idea, considering how wet this conversation was making me.
“Here’s the deal, Miss Silver: I suggest you enroll in our preferred program,” the manager said.
Did those customers get to sit on his lap while he whispered dirty nothings in their ear? Because if so, I was in.
I stroked my neck, my imagination tingling with his phantom breath. “What does that entail?”
“A modest annual fee. You get complimentary tickets. Any time frame,” he said.
I slumped against the counter. So much for my fantasy. “Oh, this is a sales pitch.”
“You wanted to see the movie—and you like all sorts of things.” Amusement tinged his voice. “Why not give yourself some flexibility? You can catch the last half of Widow and the first half of…Mummy’s House, maybe?”
I straightened my spine. Was he playing with me? “I wouldn’t pick a kids’ movie.” I scanned the balcony for any trace of a manager-looking guy watching me. All I saw was the spider beckoning. “Listen, I’m on my lunch break, and I just want to finish The Widow before everyone spoils everything. Your company will still get two full-priced tickets from me. Three, if you include what I spent on my coworker who got scared and had to leave.”
“Mm, I’m sorry.”
I didn’t have time to puzzle out if he was sweet or condescending. “So, are you going to let me into the movie?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. “I’ll unlock that showing.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“My pleasure, Miss Silver. Enjoy the movie.”
A thrill worked its way to the base of my spine. He’d managed the situation—but could this mystery man handle me?