Page 3 of Reel Love

Luck has nothing to do with it.

Mother used to say, “You’ll hear people talk about lucky breaks. There are no such things in this industry, regardless of the common myths everyone spouts whenever someone shoots up into the spotlight seemingly out of nowhere. There is only diligence and cunning. Being at the right place at the right time with the right people isn’t luck. It’s strategy.”

Oh, what do you believe in, then?Wordivore asks.

Strategy. I answer, only partially cringing when my mother’s voice is the one I hear in my mind when I type my response.

I do believe in strategy. It’s the key to success. Hard work alone won’t get a person where they need to go. Not without strategy. You can apply yourself for years to something. But without strategy, you could apply yourself to the wrong thing, or the right thing in the wrong way.

Ahhh. Well, strategy helps. But luck is a part of everything.Luck or mystery. There’s the part of life we control. And there’s the rest which falls outside the scope of our personal influence.

Wow. Wordivore has never been this chatty. I almost wonder if someone hacked the account, but something inside me knows it’s the same player.

Deep words for someone who hasn’t laid a tile on the board yet, I taunt.You must have a lot of Zs and Qs in that hand.

Wordivore’s response comes almost immediately:All the better to spell tranquilizers or quartziest or benzoquinones.

My barking laughter echoes off my tall beamed ceilings. How long has it been since I’ve laughed like this? Sure, I laugh at Brigitte’s silliness, but not a laugh where I let loose and forget everything but this moment.

Maybe it is your lucky day, I concede.But I’m not going down without a fight.

I’d expect nothing less.

I lay down METEORS on the board. The number 10 pops up next to my name in the points tally. It’s nothing grand, but it’s a solid start, and I have a good draw to replace my tiles. I can build off any of those letters to possibly land a win today.

I wait for whatever Wordivore will place on the board. A text notification appears over the top of my screen. Mitchell, my agent. I swipe the banner out of view and refocus on my game. Mitchell can wait. My life outside this secluded house at the top of a hill on Marbella Island can wait. For now, I’m going to indulge myself in a little online banter with an opponent while I pretend to be just any other girl on a gaming app.

TWO

Stevens

There is nothing wrong with the love of beauty.

But beauty—unless she is wed to something

more meaningful—is always superficial.

~ Donna Tartt

“What is that?” Ben’s face scrunches up and he points to the freshly-shaven skin over his own upper lip while staring above my mouth.

I look around the watersports shack as if I’m searching for whatever Ben’s talking about when I know full well what it is.

“What is what?” I ask him.

“The piece of furry seaweed over your lip. It looks like a caterpillar gave birth on your face over the last week.”

Kai and I laugh.

“Technically caterpillars don’t give birth. The butterfly or moth is in full adult stage with wings when it lays and fertilizes eggs.”

I can’t help myself. I’m a scientist. I’m obliged to correct misrepresentations of nature.

Ben walks closer to me and pretends to study the incoming hair over my lip. It’s been four days since I’ve shaved anything but my beard. Four days I spent assessing the waters north of Santa Barbara for a company that wants to expand development in that area. They are required to have clearance ensuring their expansion won’t harm any marine life.

“Is it ugly?” I ask, referencing my burgeoning facial hair.

“It’s not exactly ugly.” Ben runs a thoughtful hand along his jawline.

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