Page 36 of High Notes & Hail Marys

You smile. That doesn’t narrow it down. The room is swarming with actors. You have the hazy idea that it might be tactless to ask him directly what you’ve seen him in, so you don’t.

“Do you like American football?” You aim the question at the wife. “You recognized my team.”

“I’m a tremendous fan,” she enthuses. “I’ve been stateside, but when we’re on location, it’s not unheard-of for me to set an alarm for the middle of the night to catch a game. You’ll have to forgive me for liking the Strikers.”

You make a show of shaking your head sadly. “It’s always the most beautiful ladies who break my heart,” you say.

It was a gamble, but she giggles and blushes. Her husband arches an eyebrow.

“If I didn’t know you fancied the gentlemen, Mr. Reinhart, I suppose we’d have words.”

You raise your hand in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s true that I’m gay, sir, but I have eyes. And I’m just kidding, of course. The Strikers are having a good season. They’ve got a tough schedule, so a winning record is impressive. Do you think they’ll have a hard time against the Rogues tomorrow?”

She scoffs. “Divisional games are always tricky, obviously. But it’s theRogues.”

You give her an exaggerated wink. “I’ll pretend that I don’t knowexactly what you’re talking about.”

The gentleman asks you about the team, and where you went to school, and your degree. You tell him that you chose kinesiology and exercise science, but seriously considered public relations. That leads to a little chat about communications professionals, including social media. He confesses to not really being fluent in Facebook, and that he has an assistant to manage his profile. You don’t want to break it to him that nobody uses Facebook anymore, so you nod politely. Distantly, you wish that he had given you his name. Not only so you could place his face, but just for good manners.

After a few minutes, you feel Sterling’s arm slip around your shoulder. You automatically reach up and grab his hand.

“Well, look who it is!” he says. “I hope Kai has been good company.”

“Your beau is delightful,” the man says. “Where have you been hiding him, Sterling?”

Sterling chuckles. “On the front page of every tabloid on the newsstand, Arch. I’m surprised that the Associated Press hasn’t settled for just blasting it on repeat in the town square.”

Arch.All of a sudden, it clicks into place. You feelyour eyes get big, and blink to make the reaction less-obvious.

“Yes, well, I’ve been buried in Nepal. Rolling blackouts and all. I haven’t exactly been able to check my subscription toPeople Magazine.”

Archer Rubin. He’s been the most prominent director in Hollywood since before you were born. Oscars, BAFTAs (you have only a dim idea what a BAFTA is), Golden Globes…of course.The fact that he was filming a movie about Mount Everest had only beeneverywhere. And you were just talking to him about football and Facebook like a moron.

“When are you going to come film a cameo for me, hmm?” Arch is asking Sterling. “A face like yours should be on camera.”

“I’m slightly occupied right now,” Sterling retorts dryly. “I’m sure you missed this in Kathmandu, but I’m on tour.”

“Kathmandu is quite the trek from the EBC,” Arch says. “But yes. I know about your tour. The young ladies there are all fans.”

Sterling is rubbing your shoulder. It’s probably mindless, because he’s been doing it while he’s talking. But it’s borderline overstimulating—the slight tinge of drunkenness marinating your brain. Sterling being Sterling. Archer Rubin. That must be why you catch Arch halfway through a thought.

“...about you, Kaius.” He’s looking right at you. “You have a great look as well. And the drawl… very Captain America. Have you ever thought about acting?”

You’re not sure how you do it, but you just barely keep yourself from gawping.

“Miami is quite a trek from Nepal as well, sir,” you manage.

He laughs. “I suppose it is. Well, do get in touch if you ever change your mind. You’re down to earth, Mr. Reinhart. That’s a rarity in this business.”

And then the waiters bring around the first course—small plates of baby beets with goat cheese yogurt, savory granola, citrus, and bitter greens—and Sterling slides gracefully into the chair beside you. He eats with his right hand. His left one, he places on your thigh.

What even is your life?

***

You start kissing in the backseat. Nothing happens, because thisisn’ta Beyoncé video, but it gets you hot and bothered, Sterling’s mouth on your jaw, and your hand curled in his hair.

It’s almost two in the morning, West Coast time, when you make it aboard Sterling’s plane. Maeve’s California team has made sure that all of yourluggage is packed and stowed. The lights are low in the cabin, and all the shades are closed. Two bodyguards that you don’t recognize are onboard, along with a pair of flight attendants and two other women who Sterling introduces as junior PAs. Everyone looks sleepy. It’s quiet, save the whir of recycled air.

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