Page 15 of Wildest Dreams

“But she’s perfect. I’m just…I don’t know.”

“Marina is crazy. There’s not a nice way to put it. I worked with her before and to say she was difficult is an understatement. She’s fake, self-absorbed, and obsessed with her image and career. I’d much rather hang out with you. You’re everything she’s not.”

I blush. “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“And you apologize too much.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize. I’m so—” He laughs as I catch myself. “You’re right.”

We each take another sip of our beer. I’m not normally a big drinker, but I’m taking gulps for the liquid courage. The after-work crowd is slowly trickling in, and people are staring at us as murmurs fill the room about the movie star in the back corner.

“Have you always lived in Bel Air?” I ask him.

“No. I grew up in LA, but it wasn’t close to Bel Air by any means. I had a single mom. She was a teacher, so she had a decent job, but we still struggled. We lived in an apartment in a sketchy neighborhood.”

I nod, picking at my nails under the table. I’m trying to act normal but I’m too nervous. “Is Pierre your real name? It sounds very French for a boy from Cali.” Now all I can think about is how he said Marina Breton is contrived, and I can’t help but feel like my tone has an artificial lilt. I keep telling myself to act normal, but I’m not sure I know how.

“No,” he says. “My mom was a total Francophile. She was a French teacher, actually. Our whole apartment was covered in cheap Eiffel Tower art she’d find at flea markets and craft stores. She came with me to the Cannes Film Festival the year before she died, and afterwards I took her to Paris for a week. It was her only trip to France and ended up being the best vacation of my life.”

His eyes mist as he clears his throat and looks out the windows towards the river. My heart melts. I’m surprised by how open he is. When we were married, Tucker was a closed book, his emotions locked in a safe, no key, at the bottom of the ocean. In fact, I don’t know any guys who are this transparent. Everything he’s thinking and feeling is written all over his face. It’s refreshing.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“There you go apologizing again.”

I half-laugh, half-sigh. “No, I mean about your mom.”

“Thank you. I miss her.”

He puts his drink down and leans back in his chair. I feel like I should change the subject. Dead mother is heavy topic for a first date—if this is a date. I’m still not entirely sure what’s happening right now.

“How did you get your start acting?” I twirl my glass nervously on the table, then catch myself and stop. I hate that I’m this fidgety.

“I was outgoing and everyone thought I was a cute kid, so Mom got me an agent and pushed me into it early on. I’ve been stuck ever since.”

I’m surprised by choice of words. He’s living a life most people would kill for. “Stuck? You don’t like it?”

“I like the craft,” he says, his eyes narrowing at the wordcraft. “I don’t like being a celebrity.”

“If you weren’t an actor, what would you do?”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Write a novel. Build furniture. Run an animal rescue. There are a lot of other things I could do. I’d like to justbefor a while.” He takes another sip of his drink and looks off into space for second. “I do love dogs, though. That’s the first thing I’d do if I quit acting. If I had a whole pack of them running around my house, I’d be perfectly happy.”

“Do you have one now?”

“No, I’m too busy bouncing from project to project. It would end up being my assistant’s dog, and she’s a cat person.”

I’m picturing him rolling around in a field of wildflowers with about six golden retrievers and it’s the most adorable image. I sigh.

“If you hate it so much, why don’t you quit?” I ask.

“You mean get out of acting?” He kind of chuckles like I’ve lost my mind.

“Sure! It’s been done. Didn’t Doris Day do exactly the same thing? Quit Hollywood to rescue animals? Taylor Swift has a song about it.”

“I think she did, actually. It’s tempting. It’s just not easy when acting is all I’ve ever known. All of my friends are in the industry. I’m at the height of my career. Besides, if I changed my mind after the fact, I’d be screwed. Once you leave, it’s hard to break back in. People would think I’m nuts.”

“Maybe they’d be jealous.” I attempt a flirty tone, but I’m pretty sure I sound ridiculous.

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