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*****
Scarlett's green eyes flew wide open in pure shock. Her heart slammed wildly in her chest like it wanted to burst free. Marvin's lips were impossibly warm, soft, and full against hers, sending a intoxicating jolt of pure electricity racing through every nerve in her body. The charm flared hot and bright, flooding her system with liquid fire that made her skin tingle wildly, her breasts tighten into hard little peaks beneath her thin shirt, and a deep, aching flutter bloom low in her belly.
A soft, involuntary whimper escaped into his mouth as warmth spread between her thighs.
She felt dizzy, flushed, and strangely excited in a way she had never experienced. Her hands had instinctively grabbed fistfuls of his shirt during the fall, clutching him tightly as their lips stayed locked.
Marvin secretly enjoyed himself. He had calculated the fall and done it on purpose, adjusting his neck at the last millisecond to ensure the collision. The intense contact let his charm flare instantly, flooding her nervous system through the kiss—turning an innocent accident into something wildly addictive.
When Marvin initially fell, Gordon drew his concealed weapon and rushed over in a panic.
But after seeing Marvin's theatrical stunt with the bicycle, and recognizing the girls beauty, the bodyguard stopped in his tracks.
He holstered his weapon and watched with dry, exhausted amusement from a hot dog stand.
As a veteran bodyguard handling his employer daily, Gordon had seen Marvin pull manipulative, psychological stunts on Wall Street executives. He knew this was just the boy playing around.
'So many manipulative tricks at such a young age,' Gordon thought, shaking his bald head. 'The kid is a menace to female gender.'
Marvin's blue eyes flicked up and met Gordon's across the grass. Gordon gave his boss a dry look that only a grown man could understand.
Marvin glared back at the bodyguard with annoyance.
'I was slightly careless,' Marvin thought, turning his attention back to the girl. 'My acting skills were a bit exaggerated, and Gordon noticed the setup. Fortunately, the girl didn't catch on.'
When they broke apart with a soft, wet sound, both were breathing hard. Scarlett's face burned crimson. Her lips were slightly swollen and glistening. Her chest heaved against his as she stared down at him in trembling disbelief.
After frantic apologies and awkward effort, the two teenagers untangled their limbs and stood up.
Scarlett immediately asked, "Are you okay? I am so—"
She stopped dead.
She finally looked at the boy's unmasked face in the sunlight. She saw the flawless jawline, the golden-brown hair, the dimples, and those world-famous nebula-blue eyes that she had watched on television for hours.
Scarlett's eyes widened in horror. She let out a sharp gasp.
"Ahhh! Oh my god! You... you are Marvin Meyers!" Scarlett shrieked, jumping backward, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "I just hit Marvin Meyers with my bike!"
"Yes, it's me. Please, miss," Marvin winced. He reached up and gently covered her mouth with his hand. The charm instantly calmed her frantic heart rate, sending another warm spark through her. "Can you stop screaming my name in Central Park? My eardrums are about to burst, and if anyone else hears you, a thousand screaming girls will come running out of the trees and tear me to pieces for souvenirs."
Scarlett nodded her head against his hand, her green eyes wide with awe. He slowly removed his hand.
"Ah, I'm so, so sorry! I'm just so excited!" Scarlett whispered frantically, practically vibrating with adrenaline. "I absolutely love your books! I love your movies! I love your music! I'm your biggest fan on earth! I completely loved your performance at the Oscars! I literally watched the entire, boring show late at night just waiting for you to play the piano!"
"Thank you." Marvin offered a dimpled smirk. Her knees buckled. "Since you are my biggest fan... can you help me sit down? My injured foot can't support me."
Scarlett blinked, still in shock as she met him in such circumstances.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, I forgot about your ankle!" Scarlett gasped. Maternal instinct overrode her starstruck panic.
She stepped close, cheeks flushed. She draped his arm over her shoulders and wrapped her own around his waist. She pulled him against her body for support.
Marvin leaned against Scarlett's frame, forcing her to press against his side to keep him upright. They molded together with every awkward step across the grass.
They hobbled slowly toward a shaded wooden bench. Scarlett was hyper-aware of every point of contact — his strong arm across her shoulders, his side pressed firmly against her soft chest and hip, the way her body molded against his as she supported his weight. He smelled incredible — clean, warm, and strangely intoxicating. Every step made her acutely conscious of how close they were, how her curves brushed against him, and how her skin tingled wherever they touched. The warmth radiating from him made her feel strangely hot and fluttery inside, her face staying a permanent rosy blush the entire way.
They slowly, awkwardly hobbled over to a wooden park bench not far away in the shade.
---
Marvin leaned against Scarlett's small frame, forcing her to press her entire body tightly against his side to keep him upright. Her slim arm wrapped firmly around his waist as she struggled to support his weight, their bodies molding together with every slow, awkward step across the grass.
She was hyper-aware of every single point of contact. His strong arm draped heavily over her shoulders, pulling her even closer so that the soft swell of her developing chest kept brushing rhythmically against his ribs with each hobble.
Her hip pressed flush against his, and she could feel the heat of his body radiating through their clothes, warm and strangely comforting. Every time they took a step, her small, curvy frame rubbed sensually against him — the side of her breast gently squishing against his torso, her thigh sliding along his, and her fingers instinctively gripping tighter at his waist to steady them both.
Gordon stood near a pretzel stand a few yards away. The bodyguard crossed his arms, certain his employer was destined to be a legendary ladies' man. The boy played the victim with the grace of a seasoned artist.
Scarlett's cheeks burned a deep, permanent pink. She could smell his clean, intoxicating scent up close — something warm and magnetic that made her head feel light. The warmth subtly pouring off him wrapped around her like an invisible embrace, sending pleasant little tingles racing across her skin and making that strange, fluttery heat bloom low in her belly again. Her heart raced wildly, and she became acutely conscious of how her nipples had tightened into sensitive little peaks beneath her thin top from the friction.
Marvin leaned into her just enough to maximize contact without being obvious. His hand rested on her shoulder. His fingers brushed the bare skin at the nape of her neck. Each touch sent a spark into her nervous system.
"Are you… okay?" Scarlett asked breathlessly. She tried to focus on helping him, but the innocent act had turned charged and thrilling.
Marvin smiled down at her. His nebula-blue eyes shone with amusement. "Yeah… thanks to you. You're stronger than you look, beautiful."
The compliment made Scarlett's knees buckle again. A fresh wave of warmth flooded through her as they hobbled under the summer sun.
Once Marvin sat on a wrought-iron bench beneath an oak tree, Scarlett rushed back to retrieve her pink Schwinn..
She wheeled it over and set it aside. She joined Marvin on the bench. Her pale cheeks burned red with adrenaline and embarrassment. Vanilla and floral perfume wafted between them in the July breeze.
"So," Marvin purred. He turned his head to look at her. His blue eyes feigned innocent curiosity. "What is your name, my dangerous assassin?"
"Scarlett," she breathed. Her voice trembled with the nervousness of sitting inches away from her idol. "Scarlett Johansson."
"Well, Miss Johansson." Marvin leaned back against the wooden slats, playing coy. "Do you have any plans for the afternoon?"
"Huh? Oh!" Scarlett's face fell. A wave of panic washed over her. "I... I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and maybe chat for a minute. If you're busy, I can just—"
"No, you have misunderstood me," Marvin interrupted. He reached out and touched her wrist.
The touch flared. A warm jolt traveled up her arm. Scarlett gasped. Her green eyes locked onto his.
"I wasn't dismissing you," Marvin clarified. His voice dropped into a dark velvet. "I wondered if you were free to join a casualty for dessert. There is an Italian gelato shop not far from this entrance. And frankly, my blood sugar is shot from the trauma of being run over."
Scarlett's anxious expression brightened. A radiant smile transformed her face. "I would love that! And you can just call me Scarlett. Or Carly. My friends call me Carly."
"Scarlett suits you." Marvin dropped his gaze to her pink bicycle. "However... are your ankles okay? Walking to the avenue might be a challenge for my wounded foot. Could you give me a ride on your bike?"
"A ride? On my bike?!" Scarlett beamed. Her heart flipped against her ribs. The thrill that the Boy Wonder of Hollywood wanted to ride on the back pegs of her cheap Schwinn overwhelmed her teenage brain. "Of course! Hop on!"
Marvin settled onto the back rack of Scarlett's pink bicycle. He wrapped his hands around her waist to stabilize himself. She stiffened and held her breath at the intimate contact.
With determined effort, Scarlett stood on the pedals. She navigated them out of the winding park paths, unsteady given the extra weight.
Gordon trailed behind them. He kept a watchful pace, shaking his bald head at the absurdity of the visual.
---
At the upscale dessert shop just off Central Park West, they found a private leather booth in the back corner.
Gordon took a strategic seat near the front door. He pulled out a newspaper, staying close enough to maintain a security perimeter while giving Marvin privacy.
A waiter dropped off two menus.
"Order anything you like, Scarlett," Marvin offered. He leaned back against the leather and folded his arms. "It is on you."
Scarlett froze. She lowered her menu, her green eyes wide with disbelief.
"Wait... on me?" Scarlett sputtered. Her jaw dropped.
"Naturally," Marvin smirked. His dimples carved into his cheeks. "I am the victim of a hit-and-run incident in a public park. And you are the fugitive who ran over my leg. Paying for my gelato is the least you can do to avoid a multi-million dollar lawsuit."
"Now, that is unfair!" Scarlett shot back. Her gritty attitude overrode her star-struck awe. She put her hands on her hips, leaning across the table.
"You are literally the richest twelve-year-old in the western hemisphere. I read the *Forbes* article! You just won an Oscar!"
"Wealth does not negate justice, Scarlett," Marvin teased, his eyes dancing with amusement. He loved it when she pushed back.
"Justice?!" Scarlett scoffed, pointing down at her outfit. "Have you looked at me? Look at this summer top! Look at these jeans! Does it look like I have pockets? I am a thirteen-year-old girl in Manhattan. I have three crumpled dollar bills and a piece of strawberry gum in my shoe. You expect me to pay for an eighteen-dollar sundae?"
Marvin let out a booming laugh that turned heads in the shop. He found her defiant energy lovely.
"A logical argument, Miss Johansson," Marvin conceded, raising his hands in surrender. "The defendant is acquitted due to a lack of pockets. Please, order whatever your heart desires. The bill is on me."
"That's what I thought," Scarlett grinned triumphantly, cheering up at winning the banter.
She flagged down the waiter and confidently ordered a massive chocolate-fudge dessert.
Marvin ordered a chocolate milk and a dark chocolate truffle. As they ate, the barrier between them melted away, and they engaged in easy conversation.
"So, are you originally from New York City? Do you live here in Manhattan?" Marvin asked, resting his chin on his hand.
"No, I live out on Long Island," Scarlett replied, taking a delicate bite of ice cream, acutely aware of his blue gaze tracking her movements. "My mom had a producer meeting here today, so she brought me along."
"Will she be picking you up later?"
"Yes." Scarlett nervously shifted the topic, not wanting to delve into her family's financial struggles. "So, Marvin, what brings *you* to New York? I thought your work was in Los Angeles."
"I wrapped up principal photography for my new thriller in Philadelphia," Marvin explained, taking a sip of his espresso. "I came up to the city to finalize the soundtrack at Maratone Records."
"Wow, that is... amazing," Scarlett breathed, genuinely impressed. "You wrote a new movie, starred in it, and you're scoring it too? Do you ever sleep?"
"Sleep is a tragic waste of potential," Marvin smiled. "Besides, you are quite the prodigy yourself, Scarlett. I have seen your independent film *Manny & Lo* last year. I thought you held the screen incredibly well. Your emotional grounding was fantastic."
*****
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