13. Griffin
GRIFFIN
“ T hat went well.” Luke’s wide eyes stare at me from over the lip of his mug.
I huff. “Ya think? Did I say something wrong?”
“Don’t think so. She must really hate social media. Or the girl really doesn’t like you. Ha! Imagine that! A woman who doesn’t swoon and bend to every whim of America’s favorite heartthrob.” He slurps his coffee. “That, and your timing sucked.”
I ignore the jab and swipe a hand across my face. “You’re the one who said she needed something besides a blog if she’s ever going to get attention for her cause! I thought you were with me on this?”
“I was. Until I saw her reaction. Dude, she was more skittish than Roxy when we brought her home. I think you’re going to have to ease her into things.”
“We don’t have to do any of this! I was just trying to help.
” I mean, I get it. I don’t love social media either—especially since half of mine is fake.
My feed is plastered with couple-y pictures of Scarlet and me.
But I’d like to help Ashton, and social media is something I can offer her advice on.
“Maybe you need to get to know her more first,” Luke shrugs.
I set my mug on the outdoor coffee table. “She could just be nervous. You know, camera shy? That’s something I can help with.”
Having been on a stage since the age of eight does gain you a level of confidence not everyone naturally possesses.
That, and being properly motivated. When you have the reward of the applause, or in my case, the love and support of both parents—it makes you pretty eager to open yourself up to the public more. At least, it worked for me for a time.
“Maybe catch some clips here and there? Put a little montage together. If we show her what the idea is, maybe she’ll get more comfortable with it.”
“Or she’ll hate it and never talk to you again. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
I growl. “You are not helping.”
He chuckles. “Oh, I think I am.”
I’m about to tell him a thing or two when a light knock comes from the front door, followed by the entry illuminating with light as my front door opens.
“Hey Griffin, it’s me!”
It’s my newest neighbor, Wren, a rising pop star. She texted earlier that she’d stop by to borrow my blender, and I’d told her the door would be unlocked in case we were busy in the back.
Wren moved here from a small town in Kansas. She’s a recent transplant to California and is still learning to navigate life in LA. I’ve made it my mission to help her get acquainted with Hollywood life. I took her under my wing because I never had that myself, even with my father as an agent.
“Hey guys, what are you up to this morning?” Her smile is as wide as Texas as she breezes her way onto the patio. Her fiery red hair matches her vibrant, energetic personality. She’s carrying her perky little Chihuahua under her arm. She takes Churro everywhere with her.
Luke takes a couple of steps back, as though trying to slip into the shadows and disappear. I wouldn’t say my cousin is shy or antisocial—more like a man of few words—and it seems every time Wren makes an appearance, he becomes a man of even fewer.
“Hey, Wren. Actually, I have a bit of news to share?—"
Before I can finish, she bursts in exhilaration, “Oh my gosh, is that a dog? Is that two dogs? Did you get dogs?”
I laugh, enjoying her excitement and shock. She knows I’ve never had a dog, and she always makes fun of me because I didn’t know how to interact with her miniscule dog the first few months after she moved in.
“Yes. I got a dog. The other is a friend’s…whom hopefully you’ll get to meet. She’s currently hiding in the bathroom.”
Wren bends to place Churro on the ground. He scampers away, immediately barking and ready to play with the other dogs. “What’d you do to the poor girl?”
I raise my hands. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.”
Luke makes a garbled noise that sounds a lot like “Sure.” He thumbs over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go into the kitchen and prep some breakfast. Coffee for anyone?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Wren smiles at Luke before turning to me, placing her hands on her hips. “What happened? Didn’t your mama ever teach you any manners?”
Unfortunately, my mom wasn’t around for most of my teenage years when girls came into the picture. Wish she had been.
I laugh at Wren’s feistiness coming out in full force despite not even knowing this mystery woman.
“I’m just trying to help her. She trains dogs.
She’s hoping to start a rescue. All she has right now is a blog.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s great, but I wanted to help her get some social media accounts started.
You know, get more publicity and funding for her cause. ”
Wren clasps her hands at her mouth. “Ooooh, you know I’m a sucker for animals. What’s her rescue about?”
“Well, I only know the basics. She can tell you more about it. The gist is rehabilitating dogs with behavioral issues and retraining them to be fit for family homes again.”
Wren’s eyes practically well with tears. “Oh my gosh, that is so sweet. I wanna help!”
When I first met Wren, she told me how she’d adopted her abused dog from a shelter back in Kansas. To say she has a soft spot for animals is probably an understatement.
Actually, it’s perfect timing she came over now. She gets along great with just about everyone. Maybe she can get Ashton to open up. She has that bubbly personality no one can resist.
“I’m sure Ashton would love that, but she’s pretty shy. It might take her a bit to warm up to you.”
Wren waves me away like I’m a pesky gnat. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” She stands on her tip-toes, searching for the dogs toward the back of my property. “Aw, look at them. They’re already all best friends.”
Luke’s voice travels from inside the kitchen. “Hey Ashton, care for some breakfast?”
Her voice is too soft for me to make out the reply.
Wren’s eyes bulge with excitement. The girl is like a perky puppy herself, eager to make a new friend.
Ashton emerges from inside. “Hey, sorry about?—”
“Ashton, is it? It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Wren.”
“Uh, hi, gorgeously famous pop singer who may or may not be on my playlist loop on Spotify.”
Wren laughs. She doesn’t wait for permission and goes right in—squeezing Ashton into a hug.
Ashton’s gaze meets mine over Wren’s shoulder, her eyes wide, mouthing “ Wren Reynolds! Oh my gosh! ”.
I chuckle and shake my head, shrugging. “ Sorry ,” I mouth back.
I’m not trying to be cruel, laughing at Ashton’s predicament; it’s just that I had a very similar greeting when I first met Wren. Now, I’m used to her particular brand of energy.
“Griffin was telling me about your rescue. I hope you don’t mind.” Wren glances between us, trying to gauge our response. “It sounds wonderful. I’d love to help in any way I can.”
A rose color blooms on Ashton’s cheeks. The color is charming, enhancing her facial features—the delicate bone structure, the soft full lips, that wide, beautiful smile.
My brain snaps out of the haze.
Her. Wide. Smile.
Wren’s been around her less than a minute and has already earned the rare reward. If I weren’t so pleased to see it, I’d be jealous.
“Sure, that’d be great,” Ashton replies.
Wren claps. “Yay! I have my rescue dog here with me.” She points to the dogs playing in the yard. “Mine’s the tiny guy, in case you couldn’t tell.” She giggles.
Churro looks like a rat compared to the two larger breeds.
“Aw, he’s adorable. I can’t wait to meet him. What’s his name?”
“Churro. The first night I brought him home, the poor guy was so scared and nervous. I had Mexican food delivered since I didn’t want to leave him alone.
He barely acknowledged me, but the second I busted out some churros, he hopped onto my lap and became my new best friend.
The name just stuck. It’s fitting: he’s as sweet as can be. ”
Ashton laughs. “I love it.”
The sound is pure delight. Gone is the panic-stricken woman from ten minutes ago.
“Mine is the big German Shepherd.” Ashton watches the dogs play, affection in her gaze.
“When I’d found him, his eyes looked like those button eyes on teddy bears, and with his brown and black coloring the name suited him.
I was never allowed stuffed animals growing up, my mom, she—” Her eyes shift toward us.
“Well, she thought they brought too much clutter to the house.” The light in her eyes dims slightly, and she fidgets with her fingernails.
Wren fills the awkward silence. “Well, Ashton, Teddy is so handsome. His coloring is gorgeous. I love that golden color circling his eyes; even from here, I can tell he’s just precious.”
Ashton’s lips stretch with approval.
Wren’s phone chimes. She pulls it from her back pocket.
“Oh! Sorry, I completely forgot why I stopped by. I need to grab Griffin’s blender.
It’s margarita night at my house.” Her eyes widen, and she places a hand on Ashton’s arm.
“Oh, you guys should come! It’ll be fun. It’s mostly just me and my band.”
“Oh, I don’t know?—”
I save Ashton the torture. “I’ve got plans tonight. Just ask Luke about the blender. He knows where it is.”
“Thanks so much. I promise I’ll get my own soon.”
I wave her off. “It’s fine. No big deal.”
“Okay, well, I should get out of here. I’m supposed to be at a photoshoot in an hour. Only to sit for another two hours getting beautified.” She exhales dramatically. “The life of fame never stops, you know.”
She says it as a joke, but her eyes say something different. Already, fame is wearing on her. I should sit down and have another heart-to-heart with her soon.
“It was lovely to meet you, Ashton. The offer for tonight stands if you change your mind. I hope I get to see you around more, okay?” She dips her chin as if asking Ashton to promise she’ll see her again soon.
Ashton’s smile wobbles. “Uh yeah, maybe. I don’t know.”