Chapter Four #2
away before backing out and following him across the parking lot, then out the
exit.
The radio is on, and Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” comes on
the radio, and I sing at the top of my lungs. Is this a sign? I am in such a
great mood. I wish I could dance around right now, but since I can’t, I do my
own little moves behind the wheel. When I pull into the parking lot of Oak
& Iron, I let out a fortifying breath because I feel like I’ve been waiting
for this moment for such a long time. I know that’s not accurate—it’s only been
a few days—but I’m just so ready to be on this date.
I’ve never been to this restaurant before. The sign claims
the Oak & Iron is a bistro known for upscale comfort food with a gourmet
twist, and I am here for it.
Christian’s suddenly at my door and opening it for me, and I
smile as I put my hand in his and climb out. The best part? He keeps holding it
as we walk inside.
“They rarely take reservations, but I called ahead and asked
about having a table held for us.” With a casual shrug, he adds, “I almost
played the celebrity card, but that’s not something I’m comfortable doing.
Tonight is about getting to know each other, so I was hoping we’d get a table
in a quiet corner.”
“And what did they say? Do you think they’ll accommodate
your request?”
Now, he grins. “I eat here a lot, and the manager knows me,
so…yeah. He’s the one I spoke to.”
“So, you didn’t have to play the celebrity card. He already
knows you’re a big deal.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but…”
The hostess interrupts to let us know our table is ready,
and I guess she knows who Christian is, too, because she calls him by his name,
and they chat as she leads us to a table in the far back corner. It’s cozy and
semi-private, and I’m a little giddy as I slide into the booth.
She places our menus down, promising that our server will be
over shortly.
I look around, loving the decor—it’s very rustic-modern with
dark wood tables, wrought-iron details, and dim Edison-bulb lighting. And
sitting here in the corner, it almost feels like we have the place to
ourselves.
Within minutes, we have our drinks, and I order the coq au
vin. Christian orders the steak. As soon as our server takes our menus, it’s
like we both audibly relax, and then laugh softly because we did it in sync.
“Okay, I have a question,” he begins, his voice lowering
just a bit. The deep timbre of it makes me shiver. I never knew a voice could
be so…sexy. His hands are folded on the table, and I’m fascinated by them, too.
“Is Ella Holt a stage name or your real name?”
“It’s my real name. My full name is Ella Rose Holt, but no
one ever calls me that.”
He studies me, his head tilted, his expression thoughtful.
“It’s a beautiful name. Ella Rose. It totally fits you.” The intensity of his
gaze and the way he says my name practically have me on sensory overload.
Oh, my…
I can feel myself blushing, and I duck my head for a moment
to compose myself. When I look up, he’s still watching me, and everything
around us fades away.
We talk about our lives and how we both grew up in central
Florida and how it was such a coincidence that we only lived thirty minutes
apart. It’s a little wild how many similar experiences we’ve had. It almost
feels like we should have met at some point long before this, but obviously, we
didn’t.
Our families are alike, as well. Christian has four
siblings, and I have three. Both of his parents were schoolteachers. My mom is
a teacher, too, and we were both very passionate about our prospective careers
from a young age.
“Did you always want to act?” he asks.
I nod. “Definitely.” I tell him about how my dad worked for
Wonder Land when I was a kid, and how going to the parks so frequently made me
want to be a part of it all. “I knew from the time I was young that I wanted to
be on a Storyteller Channel show. Like, it had to be that specifically. I
remember taking singing lessons, dancing lessons, and then acting lessons. I
can’t think of a time when this wasn’t the dream.”
“And you’re clearly doing it,” he says. “You’re on one of
their shows right now, aren’t you?”
I nod before taking a sip of my water. “It’s a recurring
role, so I’m not in every episode, but people recognize me for playing the
character.”
“What’s that like?”
For a moment, I’m not sure if he’s being serious or not
because I’m pretty sure he gets recognized everywhere he goes, too. But when he
just continues to look at me, I guess he genuinely wants to know.
“It’s actually very exciting,” I admit. “I mean, it’s not
like I’ve got a mob of people chasing me, but I always love it when someone
sees me and their expression changes, and…” I gasp and mimic the look. “It’s
just so cool.”
“It can be exciting,” he agrees. “So, how did you end up
here in LA? You’re from Florida, and I know you said you were chasing the dream
of starring on one of Storyteller’s shows, but I’m sure there’s more to the
story.”
That’s putting it mildly, I silently muse.
Leaning back a bit against the cushions, I know I want to
give him the abbreviated version of my journey. The last thing I want to do is
dominate the conversation and have him think I’m one of those self-absorbed
people who only talk about themselves.
“Well, like I said, I took all the lessons while I was
growing up. I knew I had to start making a name for myself regionally and build
my resume. In the beginning, it was being an extra on a Storyteller television
special. Then the choir I was in was cast for one of their holiday specials.
You can still see it on YouTube.”
He grins. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah.” Pausing, I take another sip of water. “I was
part of my high school theater department and the community one, as well. I did
some local commercials and some modeling, but…”
Christian holds up his hand to stop me. “Okay, I have to ask
this. Did you ever get to work at Wonder Land? It seems like such a logical
step for you, especially with your dad working there, and would offer the most
opportunities. At least that’s my take on it.”
“Funny story. I applied to work there on my sixteenth
birthday and got the job.”
His brow furrows. “And that’s funny…why?”
“Well, in my head, I was going to be this amazing performer in
shows and parades. I had memorized all the songs and choreography from all my
years at the parks. It just seemed like that was what I would do.”
“And it wasn’t?”
I shook my head. “Not even close. I was essentially a
handler for the characters, and my job was to stay in the background. Then they
put me in a troll costume. I mean, you just look at me and think troll, right?”
My eyes roll before I can even stop them, and then I’m laughing.
But so is Christian, and it turns into an exceptional
moment.
“I did eventually get to be in a parade, so that was
exciting.”
We pause as our dinners arrive, and for the next few
minutes, the conversation is all about the food, which is fine with me because
it all looks and smells delicious.
“Did they cast you in the TV show because of your work in
the parks?” he asks, and for a minute, I’m confused because I didn’t expect him
to want to go back to my story.
“Sadly, no. My dad left his job at Wonder Land and took a
position with a company in Tennessee. Our family moved right after I graduated
high school. Then, I got accepted to the University of Cincinnati
College-Conservatory of Music.”
He looks very impressed, and I can tell he wants to know
more.
“It was an incredible opportunity, but…” I shrug. “It wasn’t
a good fit for me. The program was geared more toward actors looking to perform
on stage, and I wanted to be on TV and in movies.”
“That makes sense.”
“I got the opportunity to star in an independent film in
Italy during my first semester.”
His eyes go a little wide. “Wow, that’s pretty incredible.
Was that part of the program?”
“No. It was through a connection I’d made earlier, and I had
to take time off from school to go and film it. By the time I got back,
everyone was wondering why I was even going to college for acting when I was
already landing roles.” Another shrug. “That’s when I had to decide if I was
going to stay in Cincinnati, go home to Memphis, where my family was, or take
the risk and make the move to LA.”
“And here you are,” he says with a smile.
“And here I am.” I smile back. “What about you? How did you
end up playing for the Magic?”
If I thought I worked hard and had my share of setbacks,
they’re nothing compared to what Christian’s journey was like.
He’s short for an athlete. Like, not ridiculously short, but
at five foot seven, he’s definitely shorter than the average player. Because of
that, he was underestimated from the beginning. As I listen to his story, I
find I’m angry for him. Time and again, he was passed over or just flat-out
overlooked. And that’s even after he won the World Series. If I thought getting
turned down for a role here and there was depressing, I can’t even imagine what
it’s been like for him.
“How do you keep going?” I ask. “Did you ever just want to
walk away and be done with it?”
Shaking his head, he confidently says, “Never. This has been
my dream, and all those disappointments just make me want to prove everyone
wrong.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
And right there, there’s a connection that goes beyond any
physical attraction. There’s something deeper, more profound, and it’s on a
whole other level. I already know that I like this man. But now, there’s more
to relate to than the fact that we both grew up in the Sunshine State. The more
I learn about him, the more I want to know. And given how he keeps asking me
questions, I think it’s the same for him.
We finish our dinner as he tells me more about his career.
“What was it like to win a World Series? Your family must
have been so proud of you. I’ll bet you celebrated like crazy.” I can only
imagine what something like that—a career high—must feel like, and I’m
practically on the edge of my seat waiting to hear all about it.
He doesn’t answer right away. And when he does, I’m a little
surprised by what he says.