Chapter 8
JOSIE
“So... what did you two get up to behind the coffee shop when the crowd was baying for his blood?”
I stop wiping the table and look up at my manager. Amanda is staring intensely at me with her big green eyes, waiting for my answer to her direct question impatiently.
She really wants some juicy gossip, doesn’t she?
I roll my eyes at her professional cross-examination.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumble. “Nothing happened.”
The Oak has finally closed for the day’s business. It’s just my manager and me left in the building as we slowly shut up the shop. I’m cleaning, and Amanda is counting the day’s takings - the cash bundled together in her hands loosely. She refuses to continue counting after I respond to her crazy inquiry - instead, she proceeds to drill two holes in me with her eyes. She ain’t satisfied with my answer.
“You know exactly who I am talking about, Josie,” she scoffs. “And what I’m talking about. How many famous movie stars do you think walked through that front door today? What happened between you two?”
I spray another table and start wiping it down with the cloth, trying my best to feign indifference to my manager’s grilling.
“You’re talking about the quick moment I took Victor Penmayne out the back to avoid him getting crushed, right?” I ask her, still completing my task.
“Yes.”
“It was literally nothing,” I say. “Absolutely one hundred percent nothing. We barely even talked. It was over as soon as I pulled him to the back. His driver arrived, and he left.”
Keep wiping the table...
“He’s very cute, Josie.”
“Is he? I wouldn’t suspect that has a part to play in him being super famous.”
“Surely the thought didn’t cross your mind...”
“That he’s cute? That’s he’s good looking? Sure, he’s a movie star with movie star looks. That’s why he’s paid the big bucks.”
“Come on,” Amanda pokes. “Tell me, Josie. What did you two do together?”
I continue to remain resolutely resolved on wiping the table and not looking back at my curious manager.
“Amanda, we did nothing. Just a brief conversation.”
“A conversation about what?” she asks.
“What is this, Amanda? A police interrogation?”
“What did you talk about, Josie? Please give me something. I am thirsting for it.”
I stand up straight and put my hands on my hips, finally facing my boss with an icy stare. I really don’t want to spend the rest of the closing shift talking about this.
“We talked about life, Amanda. That’s it.”
My manager leans back in her chair and glances up wistfully at the ceiling.
“He must have a great life,” she murmurs dreamily. “A movie star’s life. What a thing. All that money and all of that fame. He certainly gets around with the ladies, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah,” I reply with another roll of my eyes, “a movie star like him probably doesn’t even have much in the way of sentimentality or love.”
“He probably sleeps around with everyone,” my manager remarks.
“Yeah. But that sounds pretty soulless to me.”
“Totally,” Amanda says. “But, damn, it would be a story to tell the grandkids, wouldn’t it? To spend a night alone with Victor Penmayne...”
I think it’s probably the best idea right now not to reveal the fact he asked for my number.
God, he actually asked for my number...
Nope. I won’t get involved with the man. I am resolved. Even if it would be a story to tell the grandkids. Even if the man’s a movie star. Even if he asked to see me again. Even if he’s blessed with those movie star looks and that charming smile.
I’ve been very resolved not to commit my heart again after such a messy separation from my ex. Not even for a quick one-night stand.
So, yeah. It’s not going to be any late-night liaisons with famous movie stars for me, even if Amanda thinks that’s the dream...
I’m leaving work, my bag flung over my shoulder, when I’m approached in the street.
It’s late afternoon. The sun is dropping below the horizon. No one is about on the roads of Crystal River.
That is except for the one person who makes a direct beeline up to me without a single moment of hesitation.
I’m momentarily shocked and scared by their sudden advance, but then I see it’s a woman and not some crazy man with evil intent. Still, I don’t like anyone who darts across a sidewalk to confront me, even if she does seem unintimidating.
She’s all neutral colors. Blacks and grays. Barely any jewelry. It’s like she wants to be inconspicuous in the environment. She’s wearing cargo pants and a jacket. Skinny as a stick. No weapon. No threat.
But the way she’s looking at me...
It’s kinda freaky.
It’s like she knows who I am.
“You’re her, right?” she asks me as she storms closer. She’s barely a few yards away from me now.
I blink in utter confusion and take a hesitant step back from the space intruder.
“Who am I?”
“You’re the mysterious girl who took Victor’s hand today, aren’t you?” she questions.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I retort in bewilderment.
How does she know about Victor and me?
“My name’s Liv. I’m a journalist. I saw the crowd, and I saw what you did.”
“Did you? You saw nothing. There was no hand-holding.”
“I don’t think so,” she says with a wry smirk. “I think I saw something. I’m here to unravel what happened today with Victor Penmayne and with the girl who took his hand in the crowd. It’s quite a story.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Did you do anything with Victor?”
“No.”
“Any words exchanged between you two?”
“I’m not even going to engage that with an answer.”
The journalist’s eyes narrow in suspicion.
“I think you did do something with him. What’s your name?”
“I’m not going to tell you my name.”
My voice is wavering.
“You knew him before today?” Liv asks. “Are you and Victor past acquaintances?”
“No.”
“Right. You do realize he’s a philandering playboy, right?”
Holy crap, she’s like the Spanish Inquisition.
I simply shake my head and carry on away from her, feeling very small and tiny in my body. Liv the journalist thankfully doesn’t follow.
I never expected to be accosted by a journalist outside my work. I’m a nobody. I simply helped a man in his time of need. I’m no celebrity. I don’t want this.
I don’t stop moving fast until I’m safely around the corner, where I take out my phone.
And I am greeted with a fresh new email from another bank denying my loan application.
Crap.
It’s just what I need to see after a weird interaction with someone demanding my name.
It feels like the universe is playing against me.
I sigh wearily.
What a hell of a day.