Page 107 of Men or Paws
Beth shook her head in disappointment. “Be that way. Please continue with the story then.”
“Okay, well, that particular day, I was dressed like John Travolta fromGrease. I sang ‘Sandy’ to a girl in Beverly Hills who had just turned twenty-one. Her name was Sandy, in case you’re wondering why that song was chosen.”
Beth pointed to me. “I knew you were obsessed withGreasewhen I saw that poster in your garage! Well, that and you have the actual car from the movie.”
I crossed my arms. “This story is going to take forever.”
“You can continue, but please know that I like you even more now.”
I laughed. “Duly noted and appreciated. I was on my way home from that singing telegram job and I was in my car stopped at a red light. While I was waiting, I saw a dog alone inside of a parked car with all the windows up. Imagine my horror since it was almost a hundred degrees that day.”
Beth placed her hand on her chest. “What did you do?”
I shrugged. “Under the circumstances, I did what any decent person with a heart would have done when I couldn’t track down the owner of the car. I broke the back window with the tire iron from my trunk. I know some people would call the cops or animal control to rectify the situation, but I didn’t know how long the dog had been in the car like that, plus I was livid with the owner of the dog that I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted to get the dog out of the car.”
“Of course,” Beth said, on the edge of her seat. “I can see that now. You rescued the dog.”
I nodded. “After breaking the window, I reached inside the car to unlock the back door, then I scooped up the dog and the leash that was on the seat. Luckily, I had a bottle of water with me. You wouldn’t believe how fast the dog drank the entire bottle of water from my hand.”
“Thank God you got there when you did. Then what did you do?”
“Well, here’s where things started going south. On the way to drop off the dog at the animal shelter, I was pulled over and arrested for grand theft since the dog was worth over nine hundred and fifty dollars, plus they tacked on vandalism and vehicle tampering for breaking the car window. The police had tracked me down after someone videotaped the entire incident and got my license plate number and vehicle description.”
“But you were just trying to save the dog! That’s not fair! You’re not allowed to save a dog from dying?”
“Well, I think there are laws in place now that permit a person to break into cars under certain circumstances, depending on the state, but they didn’t exist back then.”
“That’s horrible,” Beth said, reaching across the table and squeezing my hand. “And, you ended up going to jail?”
“Yup. Don’t ever want to go back there again. And what happens when the guy from that award-winning movie at the Cannes Film Festival is caught in the act on video as he’s dressed in a black leather jacket and slicked back hair? The paparazzi label him ‘Hollywood’s Bad Boy.’”
Beth scratched her head, thinking. “Okay, but I don’t get it. Why wasn’t there any mention of the truth online or on the news? Because almost every article says you stole a dog and got arrested. Nobody ever believed you when you told your side of the story?”
“That’s just it, nobody knows. A few tabloids said I was majorly depressed and needed a dog for support. My agent, Oliver, advised me not to reveal the truth to anyone, even though I was innocent of all the charges. He said I could milk that arrest for all it was worth because Hollywood loved James Dean types.” I shrugged. “He was right. That video went viral, which led to me getting the audition and the part for Captain Clapton two months later. The rest is history.”
“Wow. I had no idea,” Beth said, a sympathetic smile creasing her lips. “Thank you for saving the dog. That says a lot about a person when you do selfless acts.”
“I think a lot of people would have done the same thing if they were in my position,” I said.
“I don’t know . . .” Beth was deep in thought. “One can always hope.”
I took another bite of my paella, then glanced over at Beth. “Well, you know what I hope?”
“What?” she said.
“That we can get back to the conversation of you and me.”
Beth seemed to turn a little shy at that moment, some color coming to her face. “Oh . . .”
“Don’t you think we need to talk about what’s going on between us?”
She avoided eye contact. “I do not. But thank you for asking. Are you enjoying the paella as much as I am?” She took another bite.
“Beth . . .”
She swallowed her food and then huffed. “Look, I’m not a fool, something is happening between us. I like where it’s going, I really do, but don’t you think it would be best to talk about this when I’m not working for you?”
I smirked. “I do not. But thank you for asking.”
