Page 31 of Hello Darling
“Actors too, huh?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you heard about the star, I guess?”
I glance to the side. I can’t see Evan, but he’s in there somewhere. “Yeah, people have been talking. This sounds like it might be bad for business.”
“Well, the sidewalks aren’t going to blocked off, but whenever they’re shooting, some asshole assistant director will yell out to everyone to be quiet while cameras are rolling, that kind of thing. If you have any complaints—I’m the assistant location manager, like I said—and you are?...”
“Stella. I’m the manager here.”
“Oh cool. This is a cute town. I always meant to come by for a day trip.”
“Oh yeah? Where do you live?”
“Seattle, but I’ll be here for the next couple of months. What’s fun around here?”
Me. I am.“Depends what you’re into, Donovan.” See, now this guy’s more my speed.
He kinda laughs, then checks his phone. “Well I gotta keep making the rounds, Stella, but here is my card. If you have any complaints, or suggestions, call this number. It’s my cell phone.”
I take his card and tap the edge of it on the desktop. “Don’t you mess up my town, Donovan.”
“I’ll do my best. See you around. I hope.”
I wave at him with his business card in my hand and watch him put his hood back on as he heads out the door.
“Who was that—assistant location manager?”
I jump. “Where did you come from?”
Evan Hunter appears out of nowhere, guzzling a bottle of water, wearing his coat and shoulder bag again.
“Have you been sufficiently informed as to the chaos our little production will be causing your quaint village?”
“I knew you were trouble as soon as you walked in.”
“Right back at you,” he says, screwing the cap back on his water bottle. “I’m sure he told you to call him if you have any complaints about the production, but…” he taps his chest. “I’m the guy to talk to.” He cracks himself up.
“Oh well, I wouldn’t want to bother you while you’re busy making women swoon. You heading out?”
“For a bit. I’ve got a few conference calls scheduled, but I’ll be back.”
He’s staring at the letter board. He’s the only one who has, so far. It says:That’s going to be your trouble—judgment about yourself.It’s totally appropriate for a gym, and also happens to be a quote fromTender is the Night,about Dick Diver. I can’t tell if he’s offended. I didn’t mean for it to be a message to him. I don’t think.
“I know that quote,” he says, quietly.
He’s pondering it too much. Change the subject. "Oh! It’s after ten. I saved you a carrot cake muffin." I reach into my secret cupboard and then come out from behind the desk to give him his treat.
He smiles, a white toothed, sparkly crinkly-eyed smile as he accepts the muffin and a paper napkin. "Bless your heart."
"Well, I didn't want you fantasizing about how they'd taste and then feel let down." It’s easier to flirt with him, now that I know that he can’t possibly be interested in me. I lean my elbows behind me, on the desktop. My boobs just happen to be more pronounced and available for viewing now—that’s not my fault—that’s just how boobs work.
He glances down at them and then settles his gaze upon my baked good and takes a generous bite from the muffin top—not at all suggestively—and then closes his eyes, delighting in it. The groan is deep and genuine and makes my heart flutter so much more than it should.
"Stella.”
I love how he says my name, dammit.
“It's perfect. Thank you." Another bite. He really seems to like it.
