Page 20 of Valentine Nook
The mouthful of margarita I’ve just swallowed is inhaled with my laugh, and it takes all my strength not to topple off the unicorn. As it is, I have to grab the horn and lower myself back to lying down.
Even though this is only the second time we’ve hung out, I’ve decided the best thing about Clemmie is she says exactly what pops into her head.
My mind flashes back to the waterfall guy and his little trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button, and it takes effort to push it away.
“I mean . . . I don’t think a girl would be disappointed, let’s say.”
“He doesn’t sound familiar.” She giggles before her tone takes on a more serious note. “I don’t know everyone who works here, but I’ll find out who it was. He could have been dangerous. Definitely a pervert. He could be a streaker or a sex pest.”
“He didn’t seem like a pervert. I was the one who walked in on him. I don’t think he knew I was there. He seemed shocked to see me.”
“Can’t be too careful these days,” she mutters, and this time, I stay silent because I know exactly what she means.
In my early days as an actress, I had experiences I don’t want to relive, which makes me all the more certain this guy was doing nothing except enjoying nature as it was intended.
But thankfully, she changes the subject. “How’s the cottage? Are you all unpacked?”
“Nearly. You should come over for dinner. I’ll warn you now that I’m a terrible cook, but I can dial a mean takeout.” Igrin wide. “And I can get early screeners of movies if there are any you want to see. We can have a girls’ night.”
Clemmie lifts her head. “I would love that. I haven’t had a girls’ night in yonks. Growing up in a house of boys, I missed out on a lot of that. And having been away at boarding school, my friends are scattered all over the country.”
I don’t fail to notice the sadness in her tone. I feel it too. I wasn’t at boarding school, but I know what it’s like to have your friends scattered around. The closest girlfriends I have are my twin brother’s wife and her best friend, but they live in New York.
The more well-known my face has become, the harder it’s been to make friends. Harder still is coming to terms with people only wanting to be friends with you for the association, for your connections, your time, and your money.
But with Clemmie, I don’t get any of those vibes, which is rare in itself. I love that she’s never once tried to impress me, and beyond her first declaration of being a huge fan, she hasn’t brought it up again.
“I’d love it too. Maybe make it a regular thing before I go back to work,” I reply. There’s heaviness in my tone.
“You mean on another movie?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Have you got anything scheduled?”
“I start on the press for part two of my last movie. I had another movie scheduled to begin at the end of next year, but I pulled out. I told my agent I wanted a real break before she brought me anything else.”
What I don’t tell Clemmie is that my agent said it would damage my career if I took time off, but I did it anyway.
It makes me too nervous to think about.
Turning her float next to mine, she pulls up beside me and shifts so we’re facing each other. Her legs swing on either sideof the fire engine, and it looks like she’s riding on the top of it. “Do you know what you want to do next?”
“No,” I reply without a beat. “The last couple of movies I did were intense.”
“You won all your awards, though.”
“I did.” I omit that I found them in one of the boxes Ashley packed and left them in there.
“That must have been incredible.”
Clemmie’s smiling at me with genuine happiness because she thinks that’s what I must be feeling—happy. Because who wouldn’t? An Oscar is the ultimate goal. Instead, I’m chewing on my lip, pondering whether I admit out loud what I’ve only told my therapist.
The water slips through my fingers as I paddle, a metaphor for my life.
“It wasn’t as awesome as I thought it would be.”
“What d’you mean?”
