Page 82 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

“Georgia! How are you?” Cassie squeals.

“I’m good. It’s so great to hear your voice. When are you coming to visit?” I put my phone on speaker and pull a box of Cheerios from my pantry.

“As soon as it’s not winter there anymore,” she answers.

“It was almost fifty degrees today. That’s practically spring.”

We go back and forth for a minute about what temperature constitutes spring while I pour Cheerios into a bowl. I know I told Zach I’d go to the Garden, but I just can’t when it’s full of people. I don’t know how to act around him, and we won’t be able to talk about what’s happening between us. He’ll be way too busy.

There’s also the problem of my very sore ankle and overall exhaustion.

“Tell me what’s happening in LA.” I open my fridge and remember I have no milk.

So while Cassie tells me about our mutual friends, the job she love-hates, and a new restaurant we have to try, I melt butter in a pan and pour in the Cheerios.

“Mediterranean food sounds so good right now. I’m eating hot buttered Cheerios.” I stir them in the pan, and the smell of fried whole grains fills my kitchen.

“You know I love your hot-buttereds,” she moans. “Are you ever coming back? Or are you living a Hallmark movie now?”

“What are you talking about?” I laugh and throw some hot Cheerios in my mouth. Delicious.

“Small town girl makes it big in the city, but when she goes back home, her best friend wants to be more than friends.” Cassie lowers her voice like she’s narrating a commercial. “Will she leave the man she’s always loved for the job she’s always wanted, or will a small-town life be big enough for her with the man of her dreams?”

“Okay, how did you know?” I’m only half-joking. She’s nailed the romance trope that might be my life now.

I know the answer as soon as I ask the question, and we both say, “Instagram” at the same time.

“You two are obviously in love,” she says. “The whole world knows it.”

“Except for me.” I take my Cheerios to the couch, sink back into the cushions, and prop up my foot.

“What are you talking about?” Cassie emphasizes each word. “Every video I’ve seen over the past few days is him basically saying how much he loves you. How doyounot see he’s in love with you?”

“It’s all scripted.” I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling. It’s just occurred to me that I don’t actually know what’s written in Zach’s script, just the basic outline.

“Real love isn’t scripted, Georgia. And that’s all I see in your reels when he looks at you.” Cassie is a detective. Interpreting body language is a requirement for her job, so her assessment isn’t easy to dismiss.

“You see love? Or attraction?” I ask her. “They’re not the same thing.”

“Both, then?”

I don’t like the lack of confidence in her voice.

“But which one do you see more of?”

Cassie laughs. “I don’t know. I’d need more details about Zach and everything happening on set to decide.”

“What do you want to know?” I know she’s joking, but I could really use some certainty. Love has a much better chance of lasting than attraction does.

Cassie laughs again, but I stay silent. After a few seconds she goes quiet too. “Wait. You’re serious?”

“I can’t risk losing him as a friend.” I shove a handful of Cheerios in my mouth to chew and swallow with the lump forming in my throat.

“Okay, but you know I’m a detective, not a mind reader, right? And I’ve never met or seen Zach in person, so everything I tell you is complete conjecture.” Cassie is in full blown cop mode now with her commanding voice.

I nod even though she can’t see me. I’ve never been intimidated by policemen. But a policewoman? Scary.

“Not a mind reader. Got it. Only the best detective I know.” Feeling intimidated doesn’t stop me from buttering her up greasier than a bowl of fried Cheerios.

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