Page 2 of California Waves

Hersch nodded. “But my mom never let that stop us from dreaming big.”

“That’s why she named you Herschel—after the astronomer.”

Hersch was impressed and nodded. “You really have done your homework. My mom always said we could go to the moon and back as long as we worked hard. And, well, I took her words literally.”

“You always wanted to go to space. It was your big ambition from the age of four.”

“Right. Not the only four-year-old who ever wanted to become an astronaut.”

And then he began to worry. Jay was shrewd, that much was obvious, and it wouldn’t take much more digging to uncover Hersch’s fear of the ocean since the crash. If it got out, his entire career would be over. Everything he had worked so hard for all his life would vanish.

But Jay didn’t seem to notice that Hersch was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. “And you made that ambition come true. A scholarship to Yale to study medicine and then a PhD in molecular biology. And somehow in your spare time, you completed thousands of hours of jet training. Then the space program.”

Hersch didn’t know what to say. It was all too much. And then he noticed they were no longer alone. Mila Davenport had reappeared, and was playfully punching Jay’s solid-looking bicep. The two of them must have known each other for a long time. At the sight of her, he felt his heartbeat quicken, admiration for her beauty overtaking his mounting sense of panic.

“Leave the man alone, Jay,” she said. “You’re worse than my brother when it comes to turning everything into a Hollywood story.” How had she known Herschel had needed someone to intervene in such a chance encounter?

Jay grinned as if Mila were paying him a compliment. It was clear he had no intention of stopping his rousing recitation of Hersch’s life story. In fact, he barely paused for breath as he continued to rattle off the details of Hersch’s career until he reached that fateful last mission.

“Of course I followed the story as it unfolded in the news. Those were rough seas your capsule came down in. The splashdown nearly killed you.”

Hersch watched, silently horrified as Jay told the story of his life. The familiar panic set in. He could feel Mila’s presence, so near him, as she listened to Jay, but he wondered if she could also hear his heart pounding too hard in his chest.

“Jay,” Mila interrupted, her tone firmer now, though it was clear Jay was so persistent a meteor wouldn’t stop him.

“But you were a hero,” he continued. “You made sure your fellow astronauts got out first.” Jay’s brilliant eyes were sparkling now, and it was clear to Hersch that he thought triumph concluded this tale, not fear.

Jay pinched the air between thumb and index finger, finally pausing his monologue to take a breath. “You were this close to death when they managed to rescue you. Look at you. You’re a true hero. These are the kinds of stories people love.”

Jay stood back as if waiting for applause. Hersch’s horror hadn’t faded. He couldn’t tell Jay that despite all his training, all his hard work, he could barely even look at the ocean.

When Hersch failed to respond, Jay suggested that Archer Davenport would be a perfect fit to play him in the biopic of his life.

“Oh, so this was your grand plan all along,” Mila said. “You’re always scheming to find the next big movie for your clients, so you figured you’d just create one yourself.”

“I know a good story when I see one,” Jay argued. “And, Hersch, you could come on board to make sure you’re happy with the way it’s told. With Arch attached and you as executive producer, we could make a nice little feature film. In fact, Arch is just over there.” He indicated a tall man with his arm around a dark-haired woman. They were talking to each other in the way those deeply in love communicated—as if no one else existed, even though they were in the middle of a very busy art fair. But Jay took no notice. He called, “Arch, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Hersch groaned inwardly. How had he allowed this conversation to continue? But the answer was simple: It had been a monologue, not a conversation.

To Hersch’s relief, the movie star didn’t hear. This charade had gone on long enough.

“I think he’s busy,” Hersch said. “Another time.” And before Jay could say anything else, Hersch quickly added, “Nice to meet you, but I’ve got to head out.” Flashing Mila a smile, he walked away as quickly as he could.

* * *

Mila’s heart felt heavy as she watched him walk away. How had Jay not seen that he was making Herschel Greenfield super uncomfortable relaying his whole life story blow-by-blow? The poor guy was obviously mortified by the attention and had just wanted to walk around the art fair without being reminded of his traumatic accident. She turned to her brother’s agent and said with conviction, “Jay, you’re an idiot.”

Jay looked surprised at her verbal attack. “What are you talking about?”

“Does it ever occur to you that someone might not want their life made into a movie?”

He looked at her blankly. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s a genuine American hero.”

It was clear she was going to have to spell things out. “Think about it this way. If you had come to me right after I had to quit surfing and said, ‘Hey, let’s make a movie about the dramatic end of your career,’ I would have punched you. Herschel Greenfield obviously has better self-control than I do, or your nose would be dripping blood right now.”

Jay’s gray eyes opened a little wider, and she could see it dawn on him that he might have gone in all Hollywood-guns-blazing without taking a moment to read the room.

He wrinkled his nose in thought. “Maybe my timing was off and I overstepped.”

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