Page 14 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
I frown, hating that even with my earlier efforts to avoid the subject, we still wind up here. “Gee. Thanks.”
“I mean, come on,” Summer says. “I’m not saying that to insult you. You’re gorgeous and brilliant and any man—even a movie star—would be lucky to be with you. But you hate movies. And you don’t exactly dress like a woman hoping to catch a man’s attention.”
I’m momentarily stunned by the generosity of Summer’s assessment. She thinks I’m gorgeous? But then my brain catches up with the rest of her words, and I glance down at my T-shirt. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Audrey,” Lucy says, her tone level. “Most days, you dress like you’re preparing for guerilla warfare, and we haven’t seen you wear makeup in years.”
“Since your PhD hooding ceremony,” Summer adds unhelpfully.
“Guerilla warfare?” I scoff. “I dress to protect myself when I’m in the woods. There are any number of things that could hurt me. Copperheads, mosquitos, Toxicodendron radicans—”
“Toxico what?” Lucy asks.
I furrow my eyebrows. “Poison ivy.”
“Then why didn’t you just say poison ivy?”
“Because she’s Audrey,” Summer says to Lucy. “That’s not how her brain works.”
She does not say this like it’s an insult because it isn’t one. My sistersdoknow how my brain works. They might have gotten a larger share of fashion sense than I did, and they definitely gotallthe social awareness, but they grew up in the same brainy family, and their SAT scores were just as high as mine.
If our parents taught us anything, it was to appreciate the brains in our heads and use them to the best of our abilities. Summer and Lucy know better than to ever make fun of me for using mine.
Still, their observations about my wardrobe sting a little. Which is stupid. Idon’tdress to catch a man’s attention. Butbeinghopeless and knowingtheythink I’m hopeless aren’t the same thing.
Summer leans forward and rubs her hands together. “Okay. So I’m thinking we find a few projects to do around the yard, ones that would require trips to the Feed ’n Seed, then we spend every Saturday there to see if Flint shows up again.”
I stand and carry my plate to the sink. “Very funny.”
“I’m not being funny,” Summer says. “I’m totally serious. And I’m offering free manual labor, so I think you should take me up on it. I’m sure you can think ofsomethingyou want to…” She hesitates because Summer spends as much time outside as I do at the mall. She’s a brilliant attorney, but the only biology she knows is what she learned for the AP exam her junior year of high school. “Plant?” she finally finishes.
“You want to plant something, huh?” I purse my lips. “Like what?”
“Flowers,” she shoots back.
“Okay. What kind?”
She purses her lips. “Yellow ones are nice.”
“They are,” I agree. “But not nice enough to justify you stalking an innocent man just because he has a job that makes him famous.”
“I thought you didn’t like him,” she says sulkily. “Now you’re defending him?”
I lean against the sink, arms folded across my chest. “I’m defending his right tonotbe accosted at local businesses just because you’ve seen him in a movie. That’s different from his ridiculous need to have seventy-five acres ofprivacy.” I load my plate into the dishwasher, then move back to the table to gather the rest of the dishes.
“So whatareyou going to do about the squirrels?” Lucy asks. “Are you sure they’re only living on his land?”
“Not necessarily. But so far, that’s the only place I’ve seen them. I could start asking around, see if anyone else nearby has seen anything. But considering the proximity of his land to the Henderson County border, and assuming that’s where they’re coming from, his property makes the most sense.”
“Will you try to go back?” Summer asks.
“I have to,” I say, a little too quickly. I temper the vehemence in my voice. “It’s my only option if I want to see how many squirrels there are and start tracking their movements.”
Summer’s expression immediately shifts from starry-eyed fangirl to grumpy, stern lawyer. Apparently, loitering at the Feed ’n Seed isnotin the same arena as actual trespassing. “Audrey, a man like that has a lot of money to fight legal battles. He let you go this time, but who’s to say he will next time if you trespass again? Especially if you no longer have the support of your university behind your efforts.”
Spoken like a true assistant to the district attorney.
I purse my lips to the side. Her reasoning is sound. If Flint Hawthorne were to actually press charges, my university wouldn’t back me for a second. In fact, I’d probably lose my job, though, if that’s going to happen anyway, what do I truly have to lose?
