Page 34 of Reel Love

“Well, now. I thought I wasn’t going to get to show you my dress, Tank. I know you were dying to see what I ended up picking, weren’t you?”

I wink just for fun.

Tank nods nearly imperceptibly, but he doesn’t crack a smile.

Mother chides me once we’re all buckled in. “You really shouldn’t tease Ken, darling. He’s one of our best.”

“We’re just having fun, aren’t we, Tank?”

I nearly have to scoop my jaw off the floorboards when he actually speaks to my mother. “It’s fine, ma’am. She’s just having fun.”

“If you say so. But you let me know if my daughter makes you uncomfortable. We can’t afford to lose you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His voice has notes of something slightly southern. Like he grew up in the south, but left years ago. I’m itching to hear his story. Now I have two bucket list items with Tank’s name on them.

“Where to, Mrs. Graves?”

“The Henry, Miguel. Thank you.”

We ride along surface streets, out through Beverly Hills and into West Hollywood. Tank gets out once we’re at our destination and opens our door. The area is nondescript. The restaurant is one you could nearly overlook amidst white buildings, some one-story, like Chanel across the street, some ten stories high. The Henry has striped awnings and an outdoor patio that faces a clean metropolitan courtyard. The interior is spacious, with a coffee bar and seating, a comfortable lounge area with leather sofas and chairs around trendy wicker petal tables. Past that is the bar and the roomy dining room.

Tank follows us inside and watches until we’re greeted by the hostess, then he heads out to sit with Miguel, I guess. A fewpeople stare as Mother and I walk to our table. We’re not the only notable people here. I’m wearing designer jeans, a floral top and heels. I’ve got my Jackie Ohh glasses back on—my shield—but I remove those once we’re at our table.

Our waitress approaches and starts into “Welcome to The Henry … Oh. Wow …” She quickly composes herself and starts her spiel over. “I’m sorry. Welcome. Can I get either of you a drink before you order?”

Her eyes flit between Mother and me, then she says, “I’m such a huge fan. I’ve seen all your movies twice. I can’t wait forBlasted. I know I’m not supposed to say anything. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s no problem,” I tell her with a smile. “Would you like me to sign something? Take a photo?”

“Oh my gosh. Would you really? We’re not supposed to take selfies with customers, but I’d be so stoked for an autograph.” She brings a hand up to her cheek. “I swear I’m not like this with most customers. Famous people come in here all the time. I’m just such a huge fan. I don’t even like action movies. My boyfriend got me into them. But I love you and every single film you’ve been in. You’re just … awesome.”

Mother is beaming from across the table. She slides me a piece of thick white paper she just took out of her purse. When I lift it, I realize it’s a photo. Of me. My mother is literally carrying around my publicity shots. I shoot her a look of disbelief and she returns it with her version of a self-satisfied smirk.

“Well, look at this, Samantha. It’s your lucky day.” I glance at my mother again. She’s still smiling that supervisory smile of approval. I shift my focus to the waitress whose name tag tipped me off as to what to call her.

“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Ohmigosh.” Samantha’s fanning herself slightly as I scrawl my name in a flourish and add,So nice to meet youunderneath.

I hand her the photo and she stares at it with a look of awe in her eyes. I smile up at her, forcing myself not to glance at Motherso I don’t feel like such a puppet. I love moments like this. They are sweet, and sincere, and a reward and compensation for so much of what I deal with in other aspects of this lifestyle and career.

“Thank you so so much. You have no idea. My boyfriend is going to lose his mind over this.”

“You’re not giving it to him, are you?” I ask out of curiosity.

The way she’s clutching that photo, he’d better be one heck of a boyfriend to get that from her.

“No way! Are you kidding me? This photo’s the first thing I’m grabbing in a fire. He’ll have to have his own sighting and accidental meet up. I’m just going to show it to him. And gloat.”

I laugh. And Samantha smiles, settling in a little after the initial amazement wears off.

“Can we get our drinks now, dear?” Mother says.

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I … Yes. Of course. What can I get you?”

Mother orders for both of us. Something with lime and watermelon. Then she orders our meals. Both vegan and gluten free. The food here is excellent. I smile to myself thinking of Phyllis and her lemon bars. Mom would pop an artery if she had seen Phyllis feeding me the other night.

No sooner has Samantha turned to walk away than a man starts to approach our table from the front of the restaurant. It takes my mind a few beats to register that he’s not another fan. No. He’s definitely not a fan.

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