Page 14 of (Un)Expected

“Please tell me you still have it.”

“Not anymore,” he sighed. “When I decided to move to LA, I drove that old rust bucket the whole way. It made it to the city limits and then died right on the side of the road.”

I snorted a laugh. “Most people would take that as a sign.”

“I did.” He smirked. “If it hadn’t made it there, I would have probably turned back around and headed back to Texas, tail tucked between my legs. That it waited until I was in LA made me think it was meant to be.” He shrugged as I unlocked the car, climbing into the passenger seat. “Luckily, I was right.”

“So, Texas?” I asked, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the parking lot. “What was it like to grow up there?”

“Depends,” he smiled back at me. “How much do you know about dairy farms?”

“You’ve gotta be joking!”

My stomach ached from laughter, and I was captivated by the man across the table. Adam lit up as he spoke, animatedly telling his story. His eyes were watering from laughing almost as hard as me.

“I swear,” he said, holding up his hand. “I thought a monster was attacking me! You should’ve seen Cole bust into my trailer. I wish I recorded his scream for a ringtone.” He lets out a high-pitched scream, waving his hands in the air. “Love the guy, but he’s a shit bodyguard. That girl would have mauled me if it wasn’t for the rest of my security team.”

“Did they even figure out how long she’d been hiding out?”

“Three weeks!” Adam said. “She had been using some of theextra paint in the make-up trailer to try to blend into the movie backdrops. By the time she finally got the nerve to break into my trailer, she looked like a Picasso painting.”

“That’s terrifying,” I said, taking another sip of my wine. “I hope you pressed charges, or at least reinforced the locks on your trailer.”

“Yeah, it was handled…” As his voice trailed off, his smile started to falter. He glanced down at the table, running a hand over the creased, plaid tablecloth before he cleared his throat. “Tell me more about the hotel. How long have you worked there?”

Oh. Apparently that was Adam’s way of changing the subject. Gone was the laughter he couldn’t contain moments earlier. Now, it was replaced by a visible tension stretching his jaw.

At the abrupt shift in his demeanor, empathy for his situation overwhelmed me. I’d known fear like that—the fear of not knowing what someone was truly capable of. But where I knew my threat, a complete stranger had targeted him. I couldn’t imagine having someone break into my home, confusing me for a character I played. As much as Adam tried to play it off, it was clear the constant attention got to him. I reached out, placing my hand on top of his. “I’m sorry she did that to you.”

He shook his head, his carefully curated smile returning. It was the same one from his interviews on the red carpet…not that I would know. Idefinitelydid not spend hours googling him after he asked me out.

“It comes with the territory,” he sighed, sitting a little straighter in his chair. “People see you on screen and think they know you. They think youowethem a piece of yourself.”

As the haunted look lingered in his eyes, I made it my mission to give him more moments like this one. When we entered the restaurant, Adam was on edge, waiting for someone to recognize him, but after a couple of minutes without anyone paying him any mind, he relaxed. You could see the weight lift off his shoulders, helping to melt away his public persona to show the real man underneath.

“So, you want to know about working at the hotel?” I asked,wanting to see his smile again. “How much do you want to know? The usual, or do you want the truth?”

He smirked, leaning forward like we were sharing some dark secret. “The truth. Always. Give me all the sordid details.”

As I tell him all about working at the Isadora, I realize that tonight had been one of the best dates of my life. We’d been here for hours, laughing and telling ridiculous stories about our lives. The restaurant closed almost an hour ago, but the owners were my neighbors, so they let us hang out a little longer if we promised to lock up.

Adam let out one last, long laugh before his breathing returned to normal as he looked behind me, taking in the rest of the restaurant. From the outside, The Lost Tavern didn’t look like much. Hell, on the inside, it still didn’t. The dark brown wooden siding was aged and worn, lined with pictures of patrons. The lighting and decor hadn’t changed in the last thirty years, and I got the feeling that it never would. It was the kind of place most people would drive right on by, not realizing their mistake.

The magic of this place really was its owners, Marta and Curt Anders. They were two of the kindest people you’d ever meet, and they made a mean burger. On my first night in town, I accidentally stumbled on the Lost Tavern. They greeted me like an old friend, taking me under their wing.

Marta and Curt helped me find my house, conveniently forgetting to mention that they lived right next door. Curt visited most weekends, offering to fix up things that I would have never noticed. Last summer, Marta planted a bunch of sunflowers in my garden after hearing they were my favorite. She came over to water them often, which was the only reason they were still alive.

Adam glanced at me. “What are you thinking about right now?”

“Honestly? I’m thinking about Marta and Curt and the rest of the people in this town.” I sighed, trying not to get emotional. “Moving here, I didn’t know what to expect, but now…I’m starting to feel like I belong. I’ve never felt that way before.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “I assumed you grew up here. Where are you originally from?”

My smile dropped momentarily, but I recovered quickly, hoping he didn’t notice the change. My past was one of the things I abandoned alongside the highway. I tried to forget everything about my former life when I crossed the border into Saint Stephen’s Lake. Even if it were something I was willing to talk about, I’d never spoil our evening with that tale.

So instead, I shook my head. “I moved up here about three years ago, and now, I think it’s starting to feel like home.”

He nodded. “There is a certain charm about towns like this one. It’s quiet, and everything seems to move a little slower.”

---