Page 69 of Reel Love

“Says the agreeable movie star who never drove a day in her life.” Brigitte pauses. “New mission. We are getting you a driver’s license.”

“Because you make driving seem oh so appealing,” I joke.

“Driving is amazing. Except for traffic. It’s the parking that kills me. Anyway, I’ve got to get going. I have three more stops and my stomach is growling. You’ve got the itinerary? Rex is joining you on Kelly’s show. Not that I get to call her Kelly, though I have the feeling she’d be down for that. Anyway, he’s with you for Kelly. The other two are just you. We’ll prep potential questions and answers when you’re here. I’ll see you tomorrow.I’m riding along with that beast of a bodyguard of yours and Miguel to come pick you up. Got all that?”

“Got it.” I smile. She is adorable. And I’m so lucky to have her. “And, Bridge?”

“Yeah.”

“Go eat. We’ll figure the rest out later. Don’t run yourself ragged on my behalf.”

“Okay. Yeah. I see a smoothie place. I’ll drop these clothes in my car, pay for more time—grrrrr—and stop to grab a smoothie. You’re right. And you? You better eat and then go get your beauty sleep.”

I smile.

I hear the opening of her car door. “Sweet dreams. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” She seems to be done, but then she says, “Do they even have bedbugs on that beautiful island of yours? I bet they don’t.”

I chuckle. “Go eat. You’re getting hangry.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m going. I’m going. Love you, boss. See you tomorrow.”

I eat a salad, wash my bowl, and spend a half hour doing yoga. Then I brew a cup of tea and head to bed early. Tomorrow will be a whirlwind, starting with the boat ride to Los Angeles, then a few days of talk show appearances. I pick my phone up off the bedside table. I didn’t play the word game last night because Stevens was here past dinner. I read a little after he left and then went to sleep.

Wordivore might not even be online tonight, but I always secretly hope he will be. Knowing he’s here on the island makes me wonder so many things. Where is he right now? Does he live on the north shore near me, or in Descanso near the resort? What does he actually do for work? He said he’s on call. Is he an island doctor? His words were,Something like that, when I asked. A veterinarian? A nurse? EMT?

When I pull up the game on my phone, a board has already been started by Wordivore with an invite to join. I click,Accept, and when the screen comes to life with my tiles fanning out at thebottom, I nearly hold my breath waiting to see if he’s here or if he just played a word and signed out.

Hey there, he types.I was about to log off. Didn’t know if you were going to show up tonight.

I’m here. What an answer. Of course I’m here. Nothing like stating the obvious.

I see that.He pauses, and then he types,And, I’m glad.

What is this feeling in my belly? Nerves? Giddiness? Excitement? I feel like a high school girl with a crush. I try to talk sense to myself, but this small—no, not so small—part of me is feeling off-kilter over Wordivore. It’s pleasant and simultaneously disorienting.

I look at the board. MUZZLE with a Z on a double letter is already there.

Nice start, I say.

Some days you get all one-point vowels. Some days are double Zs.

You outdid yourself with thirty-six points.

It’s sheer skill. Not an ounce of luck involved.

Just as I always say.

Speaking of saying things …

He stops typing and I wait on pins and needles. I haven’t felt this nervous since my early days as an actress auditioning for a role I needed to land.

Okay. Let me start that over,he types.Speaking of saying things, what would you say to coming out to dinner with me?

I reread the sentence twice. Didn’t I want him to ask just that? But now that he’s said it, I’m faced with the reality. If we meet, he’ll know who I am. No more hiding behind SaturdayIslandGirl.

I chicken out and lay down F-U-T and then E-D around his Z to make FUTZED. Ironic, since I’m futzing around not answering him.

Let’s pretend I didn’t just ask that,he says.

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