Page 126 of Reel Love

“How about I make us a picnic lunch,” I offer.

“I’d love that.”

“I’ve got somewhere special I want to take you.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Alana

I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy,

asking him to love her.

~ Notting Hill

Stevens picks me up mid-morning and drives me down through established neighborhood streets on the North Shore. Beach bungalows sit next to larger homes, many with white picket fencing. It could be a location shoot for a movie set in a sleepy beach town.

Along the way, Stevens points to his childhood home.

“That’s where I grew up. Also known as the current home to your second biggest fan.”

“My second biggest?”

“My mom. We’ve already established that I’m your biggest fan.”

“Of my movies?”

“Of you.”

I can’t help the ridiculous grin that splits my face.

“Consider yourself warned,” his tone is light, teasing. “Youneed to steer clear until you’re absolutely sure you want to meet my mother and endure all her exuberant fangirling—of which I can guarantee you there will be plenty.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But I do want to meet your mom one day.”

“I want you to. And my whole family.”

The unspoken fact that I will do anything to keep Stevens a minimum of fifty miles from my family hangs in the air. I wish the situation were different.

Stevens parks near the edge of a cove only the locals on this side of the island know about. The entrance is through a path between two cliffs, so most people drive right by it, unless you know it’s here.

He has no idea, but this cove means everything to me. It’s the one I grew up going to as a kid when we’d come over to Marbella on the weekends. We didn’t come every week. Sometimes I came with a nanny while my parents were filming. But I was here more often than not, and sometimes we’d come for a whole week or longer through the summer.

I often played with a boy named Ren. He was one of my safe people back then. Honestly, Stevens reminds me of him in a weird way—he’s got that same quietly mischievous side. Not that Ren would ever intentionally break the rules. And Stevens obviously wouldn’t either. Ren was a sweet boy. He always teased me in a friendly way. And he made me feel like all was right in the world. No matter what was going on, I looked forward to Saturdays on Marbella.

That’s how I chose my gamer tag, SaturdayIslandGirl. Ren used to call me Saturday girl. Sometimes he’d just shout, “Saturday!” as if it were my actual name. Like, “Saturday, get some water in this bucket!” And I’d skip down to the shoreline and scoop a bucketful of saltwater and bring it back to him where he’d smile at me approvingly.

We walk between the two walls of cliffs and emerge on the beach. The sun is shining overhead with only a few clouds in thesky. There’s a gentle breeze coming in off the ocean. A few families are further down the beach with chairs and umbrellas. Stevens lays out a picnic blanket in a spot set apart from the rest of the people who are here, and then he opens the basket he brought with him.

“I brought sandwiches and two kinds of salads.”

“Impressive.”

“Be very impressed … with the Descanso Deli.”

I laugh. “Okay. Well, it’s still impressive. You planned and arranged all this.”

We dig in, Stevens fills my plate and sits across from me. We talk about his brother’s plans, his upcoming work in Marin, and I tell him about Brigitte’s most recent dating disaster. She doesn’t mind if I share with Stevens, and I’m glad because when I tell him the crazy highlights of her night, he laughs so hard he snorts. I’ve never seen him laugh that hard before.

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