5. Alexis
Jason:Why don’t we get lunch sometime? I’d be happy to answer your questions then.
Iblink. And blink again.
Is—
Did—
Did Jason Adams, Hollywood actor, winner of two Oscars and one Golden Globe, ask me out? To lunch?
I pinch myself just to make sure I’m not dreaming. Because let me tell you, the number of intensely steamy dreams I’ve had about him over the last few days borders on unhealthy.
Nope.
I am not dreaming. Holy cow.
I need to be cool, cool as a cucumber. Being friends with a movie star requires a bit more sophistication than I am currently capable of, but I”m committed to playing the part.
”Be cool, be cool, be cool, be cool.”
I write and rewrite a reply six times, SIX TIMES. But once it seems sufficiently cool, calm, and collected, I send it off.
It takes Jason nearly an hour to text back, and my anxiety over what I sent him is through the roof by the time my phone chimes. It”s across the room, shoved between the couch cushions because I was obsessing over it so much. Honestly, if someone had recorded the swan dive I took over the arm of the couch to go grab my phone, you’d be impressed.
Jason:Sounds great. I”ll get us a reservation and text you the details. I”ll be wearing a ball cap and sunglasses to fend off the rabid fans, just in case you can”t find me. [winky face]
It”s embarrassing, but I audibly squeal over his reply. We”re just getting lunch, but he”s taking the time to plan it and make sure we at least can spend some of the time in peace before people realize he is there. We”ve treated a few celebrities at the hospital over the years, and I”ve never sympathized with them more than when they”re just trying to seek medical treatment, and the paparazzi and fans are swarming.
Celebs may have signed up for public life, but that doesn”t mean they should be constantly mobbed, especially when seeking medical care.
Before I can shoot a text back, there is a knock at my door.
I look at Slinky, who”s lazily watching me from her window perch as if she would know who it was. I”m not expecting guests; in fact, I need to leave in the next thirty minutes for my shift at the E.R.
“Alexis? You home? It’s Jason.”
Fuck, even through the door, his voice sounds amazing. My whole body shivers. Before he can decide I”m not home, I rush to the door and yank it open, surprising him so much he gives a little jump. I can”t stop the laugh that escapes at the thought that I scared Jason Adams.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
We both smile like idiots at each other.
A neighbor down the hall exits their unit, jolting us out of our respective reveries.
“So,” Jason rubs the back of his neck, “I was parking in the garage when I replied to your text and then just thought I’d drop by and say hi since I would pass your door.” He pauses and notes my scrubs, “oh, are you just getting back or on your way out?”
“I have to leave in about twenty minutes for my shift. But I’m glad you stopped by. Want to say ‘hi’ to Slinky?”
I step back, silently berating myself; why the hell would he want to greet my psycho cat? Without hesitation, he crosses into my unit and heads straight toward Slinky. In the blink of an eye, he is luvin’ her up, giving chin scratches and murmuring sweet nothings into her ear.
And fuck if I’m not a little jealous of my cat right now.
Oh man, that’s messed up.
”Well, I”ll get out of your hair. I”ll see you at lunch tomorrow. Bye, Slinky.” He gives her one last scratch before heading for the door.
“Bye, Jason, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smile and wave as I shut the door, absolutely not taking a moment to watch his nice ass as he walks away, definitely not.
An hour later, I am wrapping up my charting for a kid”s broken arm and referral to the pediatric wing for treatment when my watch chimes. His text scrolls through on the tiny screen.
Jason:We’ll be eating at Maison LaCroix at 12:30. I hope you like French cuisine.
I smile like a lunatic for the rest of my shift.
I’m going on a lunch date with Jason Adams. I can’t wait.