Page 5 of Please, Stay

Grayson took another sip of water, thinking about his limited friends and where they lived. “Where are you headed?”

“It’s our year to travel and meet my parents. They’re going to be in Key West. Want to come? I’m landing in Atlanta, picking up Addie, then flying down.” He punched Grayson in the arm. “The more, the merrier. Save me from my dad, asking me when I’m going to get a real job and put my law degree to actual use.”

“Wait. Why is Addie in Atlanta? I thought she was here in L.A.” Although, now that he thought of it, he hadn’t seen her around. In a while. She’d had her trouble in Georgia, but that was months ago.

He returned to his chair, picking up his magazine. “You don’t listen. She’s living in Georgia with Cameron, my friend from football camp that summer. She’s been there for most of the year. They just got engaged.”

“I don’t guess I remember you saying she ended up staying there.” He chuckled and wiped the back of his neck with a towel. “It was funny the look on her ex’s face when we showed up to clean out her apartment. I would have looked her up when I was there last week.” Addie was the closest person to a sister he would ever have.

“She’s not actually in Atlanta. More like three and a half hours south. In the tiny town of Statem. Never thought Addie would end up somewhere with shitty cellphone reception.”

Grayson snapped his head around.

Statem.

“Are you serious? I met a woman from Statem. One of the reporters in my interviews.” The cute Juliana, with the pink icing on her skirt. He still woke-up with the image of her cat-like eyes floating around in his mind. Green. A sharp emerald that darkened when he’d moved in close to snap the tag from her shirt. He couldn’t remember another name or recognize another face of the hundreds of reporters that had interviewed him across the country, but he remembered her.

Trevor sucked his teeth. “I know that look, Grayson.”

“What look?” He moved to the squat rack, trying to play it off. Trevor had a weird gift of reading him. It came from knowing him since they were nineteen.

“You like her.”

“Who?” He loaded the weight on the bar, making it heavier than usual. The exertion would be a good distraction away from his thoughts of Juliana.

“The reporter from Statem. It would definitely be a change of pace for you. Away from the six-foot models that you typically date. How does she compare to them?”

She wasn’t a model. Medium height and based on his observation of the pink icing, amazing curves. “She’s real.”

Trevor grinned. “Why don’t you come with me to Atlanta? Drive down to Statem and reunite with the pretty journalist? Do you want me to ask Addie about her? I’m not sure how many friends she’s met, but I bet she could find something out.”

“No. Please. Addie is too smart for her own good sometimes. I don’t need her help.” He moved under the bar, balancing it across his shoulders and standing up. The idea seemed utterly crazy, traveling cross country for no other reason but to see a woman he’d met once. She’d probably rat him out to the media in five minutes flat. She was a journalist, after all.

But the honest way she’d reacted to him intrigued him. No flirting. Her questions hadn’t focused on anything frivolous. Only the script and his character. That didn’t happen any longer. Everyone wanted the scoop. The dirt on who he dated. Who broke his heart? She hadn’t done anything but watched him with suspicion and a little bit of heat.

The more his legs burned, the less he could think of the reasons why he shouldn’t go. What did he have to lose? If she didn’t blow his cover, maybe hiding out in a small town for a week or two was exactly what he needed before another seven straight months of work without a break.

He finished his set and refused to find a way to back out. “Okay. Have Addie find out if she’s married or has a boyfriend. I’m not making this trip only to be shot down because she’s completely unavailable.”

2

Juliana estimated that almost half of the population of Statem, GA had walked through the door to the Crossroads Coffee Shop this morning, and the median age hadn’t dipped below fifty-two. No one considered Statem the mecca of the dating pool. She sipped her coffee, nodding a greeting as another familiar face passed by her table. The newspaper across from her giggled.

Becky peeked over the top. “Oh, wow, Jules. This is a great article.”

“Thanks.” She’d received about two dozen of the same compliments since stepping out of the house this morning.

“You can drag me to any Grayson Moore film you want to.” Becky winked and then laughed again. “But you know my real loves are superheroes. Thor. Iron Man. Oh, the things I could do to Batman.” Becky halfway attempted to fold the newspaper before she set it to the side in a sloppy mess.

“With or without the costume on?” Juliana asked.

Becky’s eyes widened. “With. Definitely, with.”

“Then,” Juliana said, tilting her head to the side. “How would that work with the—” she wiggled her fingers in the air “—you know, thetoolbelt?”

“It’s my fantasy,” Becky snapped with fake indignation. “It works. Believe me. It works. Perfectly. Mask and everything.”

Juliana laughed. She would’ve drowned in boredom in Statem without Becky.

---