Page 27 of Reel Love

I muster up a smile. “If only I could pull off a mustache.”

Stevens smiles back. “It’s not just you. Most people can’t. Trust me.”

I laugh. It feels good to laugh a little, and I’m honestly surprised he’s drawn one out of me two or three times this morning.

It’s an honor to be loved by fans. I know that deep down. There’s also a fine line between love and psychotic idol worship. I don’t have the luxury of testing to find out which side of the line his mom lives on where I’m concerned.

“I won’t tell her,” Stevens reiterates. “Trust me.”

He smiles again. It’s a casual smile—handsome and soothing. He’s getting used to me. And I like the idea of that a lot. If he’s going to be my driver this week, I’d far prefer him to act like I’m just another passenger, and to lose the nerves. They make me edgy and I need my boat rides to be a place of solace.

“You’re the chest,” I say.

“I am.”

He winks again. It’s a great wink. His wink is one of those types that seems so easy to pull off but really isn’t. Winks can so easily cross the line to being downright creepy or try-hard.

His isn’t. It’s just sweet and a little sexy.

Single guy. Self-employed. Flexible work schedule.Recommended by Joel. Reliable and familiar with all aspects of boating. That’s all I know about this man who can wink like it’s his job. It’s all I need to know. He’s just another temp employee in my life.

“I’ll be here when you’re finished,” Stevens assures me. “Just running to Costco for my mom … My mom, who has no idea why I’m over here or who came with me. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

There’s a clearing of a throat at the end of the dock. Tank.

“Hold your horses, big guy. We’re just working out the details of my return ride,” I shout down to my stern statue of a bodyguard.

Tank doesn’t flinch. He just stares.

“That guy. Whew.” Stevens whistles.

“Yeah. He’s good at what he does.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you when you’re back here.”

“Thanks. Enjoy Costco.”

He chuckles. “Enjoy Hollywood.”

I turn and walk away to attend the meeting that will determine the trajectory of the next two years of my life. My father wants to talk about the film. He’s got ideas. And I’m going to either comply or decide to go rogue and do what my heart is yearning to do.

This day was … whew. I type in the chat next to my invite to Wordivore. I’m starting a new match, and secretly hoping he’s online.

I haven’t texted or spoken to Brigitte since I got in this afternoon. I will. She’ll want to know the upshot of the meeting from me before she hears it from someone else. I collapsed for a half hour on the couch when I got back from my day in LA. I went straight to my indoor pool and swam laps, and then I did a session of yoga with Aria. She’s my private yoga-pilates instructor and she comes up here three or four days a week togive me a workout that keeps me remembering her the following day.

Bad day?Wordivore types.

My smile is instant. He’s here.

It started out interesting. And then … yeah. Went from interesting to difficult within hours.

Sorry to hear that.Wordivore answers. I, too, had an interesting day. Not bad. Definitely interesting. Want to talk about it?

Our board sits idle. My initial word, FROGS sits out there with the F on a double point spot, giving me thirteen points right out the gate. I can’t even bring myself to gloat, I’m so preoccupied with the events of the day.

Do I want to talk about it? With Wordivore? I could. I’ll just keep everything super generic.

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