Page 78 of Reel Love

“If I’m a mirage?”

“A dream, a mirage, a fugue state … you know. The usual.”

“Yeah. I get that all the time,” he jokes.

“I bet you do.”

He’s truly gorgeous. I admired him before on occasion, but he was my temporary employee. It didn’t feel appropriate to fully acknowledge his appeal then.

He raises an eyebrow.

“What? You have to know you’re attractive.”

He shakes his head, dropping his eyes toward the table as though I’ve embarrassed him. It’s adorable.

“I’m aware that I garner attention. Sometimes it’s less welcome than others.”

“Hmmm. And when is it welcome?”

I sit back, crossing my arms over my chest, grateful that our capacity for banter is alive and well. I had wondered whether seeing Wordivore in person would squash the way we so freely verbally spar with one another.

“When I find a woman desirable. Then, I don’t mind if she finds me attractive.”

He’s different in this moment. Commanding. Masculine. I’ve seen this side of him a few times as Stevens, my taxi pilot, but not so much as Wordivore. And now, it’s a heady thing, sitting acrossfrom him while he owns his attraction and calls mine out in equal measure.

If this were a real first date and the guy were being this unabashedly invested in me, I’d be sneaking to the restroom to text Brigitte for an escape plan. Stevens and I are being intimate and forward. In reality, we’re not strangers. We know one another. This date feels like a culmination, a benchmark, and a rite of passage in a relationship that has been brewing for over six months.

The air is thick between us. I lick my lips and Stevens watches me. He takes a sip of his water and then smoothly shifts the conversation away from the crackle of our mutual attraction to something more neutral and appropriate for the setting.

“So, you had a few days of interviews?”

“You really don’t follow Hollywood buzz much, do you?”

“If by not much you mean not at all, then yes. That’s true.”

I can’t explain why this delights me like it does.

“Well, I was on The Kelly Clarkson Show—with my co-star.”

“Rex Fordham?”

“Yes.”

I stuff down the memories of that interview. Kelly was delightful, but the obvious insinuation that Rex and I are together was established and never refuted. She was gracious enough to only tease us about what a beautiful couple Rex and I make. She didn’t focus on us and our relationship for longer than was needed. She’s so down to earth. I loved chatting with her if you set aside the fact that our interview probably solidified a lot of rumors.

“Do you know who Kelly Clarkson is?” I ask.

“I do. My brother sings country, so I get familiar with a lot of artists through him and his passion for that genre. Kelly was married to a country singer for a while.”

“Your brother sings country? Professionally?”

“He does paid gigs around the island and over in LA. He’s moving to Tennessee.”

“Ahhh. Nashville. Pursuing his dreams to be a big country star?”

“No. Not exactly. He’s actually moving to join a station—a fire station—in a small town between Nashville and Knoxville. He’s a fireman.”

“Does he look like you?”

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