Page 12 of Cat's Outta the Bag

“Jason, the only time I’ll ever be annoyed by you taking the time to do something with fans is if you don’t want to do it. Otherwise, never feel bad about it. At least not with me.” He slowly nods, clearly digesting what I’ve said. While he does, I observe the café around us. And for the first time since we arrived, I notice all the people glancing our way, clearly discussing us. Maybe they’ve been watching us the whole time, or maybe they only took notice once those kids came over. Either way, I’m suddenly a little on edge, not sure what to do.

“Try to ignore them.” Jason’s quiet voice pulls me back to the table. To us. His hand gently squeezes mine. “For the most part, people will leave you alone if you make it clear you’re not ‘open for business’ so to speak. Kids, don’t always pick up on those cues, but that’s ok, I’d much rather take pictures with young people, than adults.” He smiles reassuringly, and I find myself smiling back. Because of course the wonderful human in front of me makes sure to always take time out of his day for young fans.

“That reminds me of a question I’ve been curious about.”

“Shoot.”

“How come you live in an apartment building with a bunch of strangers? And I always thought celebrities had bodyguards following them around to keep away the crazy women in unicorn footie pajamas.” I smirk as he laughs. We both know I looked completely nuts that night, even if it seems to be turning out ok.

“It’s all personal preference, really. My parents keep security staff around most of the time, unless they’re at their home on Catalina Island. I don’t know if you remember this in the news, but when I was about ten, my mom had a stalker. They eventually caught the guy, and she’s fine, but because of that, having security makes them feel safe. Isla hardly ever feels the need since she’s in the Indie scene and often flies under the radar, unless we’re all together as a family.” He takes a sip of his coffee before continuing.

“Mostly, I do without. During premiers, especially for franchises like Agent Smith, I’ll hire on some security. Fans tend to get a little more intense then. And honestly, I often relied on Vanessa’s security team when we were together. But for the most part, I hate the idea of being followed around. It just feels wrong, and invasive. As for living in an apartment building, it’s not ideal. But after Vanessa and I imploded, I needed a place on short notice, and this was the best we could come up with. And I have to say, it’s worked out pretty well.” He nudges me with his foot and smiles, making me melt.

Before I can reply, my phone alarms dings. “Shit, has it been that long already?”

“Time to go?” I nod, and he gets up without argument, grabbing our dishes and bussing them to the counter. I’m shocked we’ve been here for as long as we have, I didn’t even notice. Usually when I have a weird start time for a shift, I’m anxiously watching the clock until it’s time to leave. I feel a little twinge as we leave, hand in hand, wondering if he can distract me this much now, what happens when we really start dating?

What am I getting myself into?

***

The next day, I’m passing Dr. Beauford and an attending in the hall when I overhear their conversation.

“I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m in the doghouse, man. Why the hell does it even matter that I missed a three-year-old’s dance recital? She won’t remember it anyway. And I tried to get my shift covered…”

Their conversation trails off as I get farther away, a sick feeling settling in my gut. I already felt guilty when I got on my shift yesterday when I heard it had been a crazy morning. But now learning that I caused Beauford to miss his kid’s dance recital?

What the hell am I doing? Am I really risking ten plus years of study over a guy? It’s not until I’m home with Slinky that I’m able to be a bit more rational. It’s not my fault Beauford didn’t plan better to get his shift covered. I’d bet my favorite stethoscope he knew about that recital well in advance, and did nothing about it until his wife put pressure on him. The guy is a good doctor, but he’s an ass most of the time. I don’t get what his wife sees in him.

By the time I’m starting to drift off, I’ve mostly set aside my guilt. But there’s still a tiny voice in the back of my mind, screaming that I’m about to lose it all.

Chapter 10

Jason

Normally, I make it a rule to never read tabloids, especially when they're about me. But it isn't just about me anymore, so I force myself to look at the garish headline again.

SPOTTED GETTING COZY

HOLLYWOOD STAR IS CAUGHT ON CAMERA WITH THAT MYSTERIOUS WOMAN AGAIN

WHO IS SHE?

I groan, again. Why can’t they just leave us alone? Clearly someone, or maybe even more than one person, took pictures of us at the café yesterday. I don’t bother reading the article, I’m sure it will just piss me off more than I already am.

I consider texting her, but if she hasn’t seen this already, I don’t really want to tell her about it. Considering her reaction to the “Reporter” article about our first date, I’d rather she be blissfully ignorant about this one. I know she’ll be home soon. Maybe I’ll check-in once she’s home and we can watch a movie together and discuss it.

Across the room, my phone rings, blaring “You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch”, and I instantly smile. When Isla was a teen, she went through a major “I hate holidays” phase, and we all called her a Grinch that year. She hated it then, hates it now, but I can’t seem to bring myself to change her ringtone. What else are brothers good for, if not to torture their little sisters whenever possible?

“Hey, Isla,” while I keep the ringtone, I know better than to actually call her a Grinch, I like my balls where they are.

“Hey, doofus,” her voice crackles a bit, like she has bad service. Which, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure she’s out in the wilderness camping with her boyfriend. What the hell is she doing calling me while she’s away from the city?

“I’m calling because I saw that new article about you and that gorgeous babe. Wanted to check in.”

Ah, that explains it. Although I’m surprised she spends any time on the internet when she’s out there.

“Thanks, Isla, I’m ok. Honestly, I’m more worried about Alexis.”

---