Page 33 of Reel Love

Keeping one hand on the wheel, I pull out my phone and stare at it to unlock it with facial recognition. Then I hand it over to Alana.

“It’s in my photos. Most recent pics.”

She taps a few things and then she starts laughing.

When she speaks, she surprises me. “It’s almost so ugly it’s cute.”

“Really? You’re calling a Hagfish cute? Do you know what their nickname is?”

“No. What is it?”

“They’re called slime eels.”

I hear Ben’s voice in my head shouting,Nooooooo!

“A slime eel. Do they slime things?”

She’s so serious.

“They do, actually. As a defense mechanism.”

Look at me, not mentioning the quantity.Chill out, Ben. I’ve got this.

She glances up at me from the photos. “Aren’t defense mechanisms fascinating?”

Are you serious? Alana Graves is talking with me about defense mechanisms as if we’re on a project together, studying marine life and marveling at it in a moment of shared wonder.

“They are. I think it’s fascinating to see all the ways creatures morph or adapt to defend themselves.”

I turn my head so I can keep my eyes on the water.

“I guess it’s true for us too,” she says.

“Humans?”

“Yeah. We learn to adapt and morph.”

I nod, and then I glance over at her. She’s staring off at the horizon with a pensive expression on her face. I get the feeling she’s morphed and adapted a lot over the years. Maybe she’s thinking about all the ways right now. Our conversation seems tohave stalled, so I stand next to her, and we ride along to the coastline in silence for the rest of our trip.

ELEVEN

Alana

Life is an improvisation.

You have no idea what's going to happen next

and you are mostly just

making things up as you go along.

~ Stephen Colbert

Brigitte meets us for dress selection on Rodeo Drive. Tank isn’t even walking around with us. Rodeo’s a place where you'll regularly see celebrities and high-end influencers, business moguls, famous athletes, and wives of the elite Los Angeles crowd. No one cares that I’m Alana Graves here.

We spend a few hours in and out of shops, trying on dress after dress. We finally land on an asymmetric midi-dress by Oscar de la Renta with floral guipure lace overlay. The lace is all that covers me in spots. It’s discreet but sexy, and of course, it’s white. I feel beautiful in it. And Mother approves. Four thousand dollars later, I’m set for the party.

We say our goodbyes to Brigitte, and I think I see Mom slip Brigitte a hundred dollar tip before she leaves to retrieveher car from the valet. Miguel pulls up not a moment later. The front door of the Town Car swings open and Tank exits the passenger seat to hold the back door open for me and my mother.

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