Page 44 of Fa-La La-La Land
Rhys curls his finger for me to come closer, but I shake my head.
“Come on, La-La. We’re not in public.” He uses the smile on me that my poster captured so perfectly, thirteen-year-old me was powerlessnotto kiss it.
But I’ve got a decade’s worth of practicing self-controlbehind me. “You can wag your finger all you want, but I’ve got an agenda to stick to, and you?—”
“—I’ve got an agenda, too. Come over here, and I’ll lay it out for ya.”
“Rhys! Seriously! We have stuff to do. You’ve got songs to write or meetings to go to…or whatever it is you do when you’re not touring. I’m meeting with your mom today to plan the pool party. What kind of food do you want? We need to get that figured out…”
“Stella!” Rhys waves his hands, and I stop talking. With a small sigh, he smiles. “When I’m not on tour, I relax. I slow down.” He raises an eyebrow, I assume as a nudge to try the concept myself. “I have to give my brain and body a break, otherwise Ican’tdo what I do for twelve to eighteen months straight.”
“Okay,” I laugh. “You relax, but I actually have a bunch to do. I’ve got another client!”
“Oh, yeah? Good on ya, La-La! Who is it?” He pats the spot next to him again.
“Piper Quinn,” I tell him.
“Archie’s fake sister?”
I nod and tell him how, while I was at Archie’s beach house—well, technically Piper’s now—the other night, Piper announced the huge designer she’s interning for had stolen her designs and how one thing led to another.
In my excitement, I let down my guard, and I’m pulled into Rhys’s orbit. Before I know it, I’m sitting next to him. “I didn’t say anything to you yesterday because we still had some details to work out, but it’s official now. Anyway, I’ve got to research some GoFundMe-type sites before we expose Valente online and Piper launches her own label under Archie’s Bombora brand. Also, I hope it’s okay, but I told them you’d probably be up for wearing some of the clothes to help with publicity.”
Rhys blinks rapidly. “What just happened?”
I laugh. “Sorry. I guess I threw all that at you pretty fast. Almost as fast as it all happened! Obviously, if you don’t want to wear the clothes, you don’t have to.”
“It’s fine. I’ll wear the clothes. I’m only trying to sort out how you made all that happen…Never mind.” He shakes his head. “Of course you made it happen. You’re Stella.”
“Is that a good thing?” I lean into him. I already know the answer, but I think I’d like to hear him say more about what he means byyou’re Stella.
“‘Course it’s a good thing. That’s why you’re going to cross off everything on your list long before you’re thirty.”
“You think so?”
“You’re well on your way to starting your own company, and Archie’s number one on his bucket list is starting his own surf wear brand, so you’ve got the thing about helping someone else with their bucket list locked down.” Rhys reaches for my scrapbook, which—like an idiot—I still haven’t tucked away somewhere safe. “Might as well cross those two off right now.”
I tug him back before he can grab it. He doesn’t need to see what I’ve crossed off on that list. It’d just go to his head. He falls into me, then he twists around, making himself comfortable, sprawled across the couch with his head in my lap.
“What should we cross off today?” Rhys asks, smiling up at me in a way that may be even more dangerous than him seeing I’ve made number one optional. Just in case. But it also meant I could cross off number twenty-seven:Say yes to something that terrifies me.
“I told you how busy I am.”
“Okay then. What about tomorrow? We either go skydiving, or we go to Italy for gelato. You could ride the Vespa thing, too. That’s two birds, one stone. I vote for Italy.”
“Rhys. You can’t be serious. I’m not flying to Italy just for gelato and to ride a Vespa.”
“Notjustfor gelato. For your list, La-La,” he says with mock seriousness.
“If you shorten my name anymore, there won’t be anything left of it.” I ignore his grin. “And I can’t go to Italy without my mom. She hasn’t been back since she moved to Paradise almost thirty years ago.”
Rhys’s brow creases. “Why not?”
“Never had the money or time.” I can’t resist running my hand through his hair then over the stubble on his cheek.
“Isn’t there something on your list about taking her on a trip?” He turns his face to kiss my palm.
“Rhys. You’re not taking my mom and me to Italy tomorrow.” I pull my hand away, reminding myself I want to take things slow.
