Page 49 of Heavy Shot

"Sure. Where are we going so I know how much camouflage to put on?" she said, pouring herself some juice.

"I was thinking about a sushi place in east LA. It’s kind of a hole in the wall.No one will know us there and we can just be ourselves. Kind of hide in plain sight without having to worry about cameras."

She considered for a moment, then nodded. "Okay.I've never been there, though. Do I need to dress up?"

"No," he shook his head. "Jeans work.Just remember, in case we run into cameras, always wear something you won't mind seeing all over the internet."

"Right," she said, sipping her juice. The photographers hadn't let up since the naked pictures had hit, and she was being faced with cameras pretty much anywhere she went. It was all taking some time to get used to. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to it. "I think I’d be glad to be photographed wearing any clothes at all. I'll go get a shower."

Kline was dressed by the time she got out, wearing faded jeans with a loose navy cable knit sweater. He smiled and took himself downstairs to wait. When Rhiannon appeared in her own jeans and a fitted black button down, he whistled. "You're gorgeous, baby."

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to wear a different shirt?”

“What?”

“It’s photos. You always have to be thinking about photos. Button-fronts gape sometimes and give you paunch when you’re sitting. Not you-you, but everyone-you. I could–”

“I like this shirt just fine,” Rhiannon interrupted his offer. “I’m good.”

“Fab!” His smile was a little too bright, but she ignored it.

"We're going to take the convertible," he told her, "so you might want to pull your hair back until we get there."

“The convertible? I’m going to hide in the floorboard until we get there.”

“Just ‘til we get out of the driveway,” he teased.

There were fans and photographers waiting at the front gate when they pulled out, so Rhiannon ducked down and Kline shouted hellos and waved before peeling out down the lane.She was immediately glad he’d chosen the car. The weather was gorgeous and the drive with his playlist was more fun than she’d had in a while.

Unfortunately, someone had tipped off the paps while they were eating, and they walked out of the little restaurant to a crowd of fans and photographers. Kline gripped her hand and whispered, “Just smile. All you have to do is smile.”

He did his best to shield her face from the cameras with one hand as he ushered her into his car, but the droptop offered no such privacy and before he could get the key in the ignition of the classic Mustang, a woman had walked up to the driver’s side and asked for an autograph.

Rhiannon saw his jaw twitch, but he signed a handful of autograph books, a napkin, a shirt and one woman's upper arm before waving off the rest. “Sorry! I have to go!”

"Thank you,” Upper-arm woman waved, “I'm going to have it tattooed. You're my favorite."

"Well thank you, Love," Kline grinned. "Tattoo's a bit much though, isn't it? It's not even my best writing."

She giggled, "That's okay. I'm doing your autograph," she pointed to the space above it, close to her shoulder, "and I'm doing the logo fromNonstop. That was my favorite movie of yours."

"Oh! I've got theNonstoplogo on my back," Kline said, reaching to pat over his left shoulder. "It's pretty cool."

"I know. I saw it."

"We all saw it," one of the other women giggled, "and more."

Kline raised an eyebrow realizing they were talking about the photographs. "Then you all know I'm a healthy boy," he winked. "So, you don't mind if we get out of here now? Maybe you’ll even give us a little assist?"

Rhiannon wasn’t sure what he had meant, but then watched in awe as the fans managed to wrangle the photographers, who had never stopped taking pictures, away from the car so that Kline could ease it away from the curb and drive off.

When they were safely away, she asked incredulously, "That woman is getting your signature permanently inked into her arm?"

"At least she wasn't trying to get my DNA," Kline shrugged, steering them onto the highway where there would be no hope of conversation with the top down. "No tearing out of my hair or ripping off of my clothes. She can ink whatever she wants into herself."

"That was so surreal. It was like I wasn't even here. They didn't even notice me."

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