Chapter 35: Panty Girl: Home Invader
When Orlando asked me to come to L.A., I never stopped to consider any of the logistics. I guess that's what happens when you think with your body and not your head, when you let yourself get caught up in exciting fantasies rather than reality. Maybe I can blame the grogginess I still feel after my nap on our flight, but it's not until our cab pulls into a long driveway that I realize where we're going.
"This is your house?" I ask, peering out the window. Orlando pushes a button on his keys to open the big, arching gates. Beyond that is a huge white house with fluted columns and an attached carriage house.
Talk about living the dream.