Page 106 of Men or Paws
I laughed. “Relax, as long as you don’t make a scene, everything will be fine. Just another day at the office for me.”
“How exactly would I make a scene?” Beth asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, thinking about it. “You can pretend our table is a Maserati and almost crash it into a tree.”
Beth laughed. “You’re bad.”
I grinned. “Hey, they don’t call me Hollywood’s bad boy for nothing.”
She nodded, thinking about it. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but that title is not justified. You don’t have one single quality that would put you squarely in the bad boy category.”
“Sure I do.”
Beth crossed her arms. “Name one.”
I searched my mind, waiting for something to come to me.
“That’s what I thought.” Beth glanced at my shirt. “And clothes don’t make the man, so that doesn’t count. In fact, you’re one of the kindest people I have ever met.”
Her words touched me, and quite frankly, caught me off guard. “Thank you, but you need to keep it down. That’s how rumors get started.” I took a couple of bites of the paella, enjoying it like I normally did.
“Seriously, who came up with this bad boy title of yours, anyway?” Beth continued. “Did it start when you stole that dog?”
“I didn’t steal the dog,” I whispered, looking around before leaning closer to Beth. “Okay, I took the dog, but it’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it?’ Beth said, leaning closer. “I signed your silly NDA, so you can trust me.”
“Even without the NDA, I trust you,” I said.
Surprisingly, she reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “That means a lot to me.”
“Someone is probably taking a picture of you with your hand on top of mine.”
Beth yanked her hand away.
I laughed. “Relax. It doesn’t matter what people think. Just be yourself.”
“Quit changing the subject,” Beth said. “What happened with the dog?”
I considered telling her the story, which kind of shocked me since I had always kept it locked inside of a vault.
I took another bite of my paella, considering it.
“Rocco?” Beth said. “Don’t you go teasing me like that.”
“Okay,” I said, setting my fork down.
I had never shared the story with any other woman in my life. In fact, there were only two people who knew the truth, Marcello and Oliver.
I rubbed my chin, thinking where I wanted to start. “I had just returned from the Cannes Film Festival. This was before I got the deal for Captain Clapton, mind you. I had movie auditions almost every week, but nothing had worked out or was the right fit for me. But I had to eat, of course, and one of the many ways I made ends meet was by working for a company that delivered singing telegrams in the LA area.”
“You have got to be kidding.” Beth laughed. “You sing?”
I nodded. “Yes. Well, I used to.”
She put both of her hands together in the prayer position. “Sing something for me.”
I laughed. “I’ll think about it if we are in private and I’m really, really drunk.”
