20. Chapter Twenty
And the new trailer for the network says, “Where love really happens.”
* * *
Penny canceled the car for Christina, and I ordered Penny an Uber, since they had come together. There are a lot of moving parts to everything in this town.
It would be nice to just make movies. But there are assistants, and agents, and drivers. The list goes on and on.
I sometimes wonder if that’s why I try to live so simply with my roommate and my dog. I do what I love, but try to remain grounded.
Shifting a look toward Christina, I realize I’m not grounded at all.
I’ve fallen into this life of look at me. That’s what happened, and that’s what we’re facilitating. Sure, I’ll get the big payday at the end, but then I’m just feeding the monster.
Having my entire family move to California when I was fourteen was a big deal. My parents uprooted their lives, and the life of my brother, to move so that I could pursue my dream. I found out firsthand how important it was to have both your mother and father nearby. I watched plenty of friends get caught up in drugs and unwise choices. I count myself as one of the lucky ones. Perhaps I wasn’t enough of a child star to have been affected.
That’s a lie. It didn’t matter how famous you were as a child star. If you didn’t have the right support, you just didn’t make it.
Of course, the fact that my parents are still married and speaking, that’s a credit to their well-established relationship before we moved.
They kept me grounded, and I suppose they still do.
I’ve had my drunken nights on the Sunset Strip. I’ve probably ended up in bed with a woman or two that I should have reconsidered and just gone on my merry way, but I didn’t.
But looking at Christina as she scrolls through her phone, the city that we’ve embraced rolling by us outside the window, I think of how different she is.
That condo that she lives in is one of those places people dream of having. They’ll work for years just to get to live in one for a few months, until they’re unemployed again.
Christina has lived in hers since she was eighteen, and I can’t help but wonder if that was her parents’ way of just getting her out of their house. Out of sight, out of mind.
Even when they’re around her, she’s out of sight, out of mind.
I know this thing between us is made up for the cameras, but since that day I kissed her on the beach, I can’t stop thinking about her.
Our little argument over lunch with her mother, or whatever it was about, shook things up. Usually, I wouldn’t have given it another thought, but for the past two weeks, it really messed with my head.
Even when Milo and I were camping, all I could think about was her.
“What do you like on pizza?” I ask, and Christina slowly lifts her gaze from her phone to me.
“Pizza?”
“You’ve heard of it, right?”
She turns her phone over in her lap. “I don’t eat pizza.”
“Why not?”
She lifts a brow as if there is no reason to explain. She just doesn’t do it.
I hold up a hand and rethink my question. “It’s pizza night at our house. I’d like to extend the invitation for you to have dinner with us.”
“Can I order a salad?”
I chew my bottom lip and study her. “No,” I say, and she takes off her sunglasses so that she can study me directly.
“No?”
“No.”
She huffs out a breath. “I might as well go home.”
Before she can scroll again, I take her hand in mine, directing her attention back to me.
“One night. Live a little.”
She purses her glossed lips. “Pizza is going to do that for me?”
“And beer,” I add.
“Oh, hell no. You’re asking me to partake in a carb-filled dinner and add a carb-filled drink? Do you know what that will do to my body?”
“I don’t care about your body. I’m thinking about what it’ll do to your attitude.”
Her mouth drops open. “What?”
“I’m just saying, for one night, let loose a bit. A few slices of pizza and a beer isn’t going to destroy you. You certainly could afford to eat a real meal that doesn’t consist of just lettuce.”
She has an argument brewing. She doesn’t know how to not argue with me.
For a moment, I think she’s going to tell the driver to take her home. Then she looks out the window, back at her phone, and then at me.
“I don’t know how I like my pizza,” she admits. “It’s been years since I had one.”
I’m starting to feel as if she’s a project for me to take on. I need to undo all the programming she’s had since birth.
“I’ll order a cheese one for you, and you can steal whatever toppings you’d like off of mine, then.”
The corner of her mouth lifts in a slight smile. I’m going to guess no one has ever conceded anything to her. She’s just been told what to do her entire life.
Suddenly, I can’t wait until she meets my mother.
Something tells me that Christina Malloy could use a dose of reality—in the sweetest way.
The moment we step out of the SUV, I can hear Loki inside barking.
Christina stops as if she’s afraid now.
“He’s only excited that I’m home. He’s harmless,” I say.
She gives me a small nod and follows me up the front walk. I fish my keys from my pocket and notice her looking around the yard. It’s well-groomed, and the neighborhood is nice. Even though she’s seen my house before, on the night we escaped the award ceremony, I guess it was dark. Something tells me she’s a bit surprised that it’s a tidy yard.
“I’m going to go in and get Loki settled. It’ll only take a few seconds. I’ll call out to you.”
Christina nods and stands on the front step as I walk inside.
As is the norm, Loki races through the house and straight to me, nearly knocking me over as he jumps up to greet me.
“Hey, pal,” I say with equal enthusiasm as I rub his head and his ears. Lowering to one knee, I hold his attention. “I have a friend. I want you to meet her, but you can’t jump up on her,” I say.
Loki lets out a howl, and I redirect his attention back to me.
“Seriously,” I say. “She’s in a white dress. You can’t mess that up.”
He nods as if he really understands me, and I laugh.
With my hand tucked into his collar, I walk him toward the front door.
I push open the screen door, my hand still on the dog. “Come in,” I say, and Christina takes a moment to assess me and the dog before she steps into the house.
“Sit,” I say to Loki, which he does, but he’s jittery. “Loki, this is Christina.”
He barks, and she flinches and grips her purse as if it’s protecting her.
“Christina, this is Loki,” I say because I think she’s unsure of what to do. “Shake,” I instruct Loki, and he lifts his paw.
Christina looks at me for instruction, and I nod toward his paw. She leans in and takes his paw.
“It’s nice to meet you, Loki,” she says, but that’s when he gets away from me, pulling me forward as he jumps on her, leaving dusty paw prints on her white dress and knocking her off balance.
She teeters on those high heels, and I have to let go of Loki to reach for her, but he lunges again.
My arms come around her and we hit the end of the couch, falling over the arm, and down on one another. Loki takes that as a game and pounces on top of both of us.
“Stop! Stop!” I shout at the dog, who howls in excitement over this new game.
I manage to get off Christina and grab Loki, making him sit as I help Christina off the couch.
Her purse is now on the floor, and her sunglasses had flown off her head and are now on the other end of the couch.
I purse my lips, so I don’t laugh.
“I’m so sorry. He’s heard a lot about you, so I guess he was excited to meet you,” I say, hoping to defuse the situation.
Christina’s eyes are wide. She’s working to collect herself, and I’m not sure how this is going to end up.
She looks down at her dress and then back up at me.
“I’m so sorry,” I say again.
“It’s okay,” she says, but her voice cracks.
“Let me take him out back, and I’ll help you get cleaned up.”
“I don’t need help,” she says.
“Let me take him out. The bathroom is just down the hall. Washcloths are in the drawer on the left,” I say as I direct Loki to the back door.
As we pass through the kitchen, I look down at the dog, who looks so proud of himself. “Way to go, bozo,” I say with a laugh. “You might want to work on your social skills,” I tease as I open the door and watch as Loki takes off to run around.