He said goodbye and I stood in the middle of the sidewalk, the warm California sun reminding me of all that I loved about this town.
Every day, every second, the clock was winding down on days like this.
I paced down the block, then back again, then once more as I pondered my options.
But it came down to this–Jess was my only in. I ran a hand roughly through my hair, racking my brain for the limited information I had on her. I had to try again to see her, but to do so I’d need to break down those walls she had.
I snapped my fingers when it hit me. Though I barely knew her, she’d already given me the necessary clues.
Jess
When my final class ended for the day, I caught up with Anaka and walked to the scooter parking.
“I have a plan to get some wedding deets for you,” Anaka said, brushing her nearly black hair off her shoulders. “My mom emailed earlier to remind me about a charity dinner thing we have tonight that the studio is sponsoring. They want me with them to present the whole perfect family united front –”
“But it’s not a front. You are the perfect family,” I pointed out.
She nodded. “True. It’s kind of ridiculous that I actually like my parents.”
“And it’s equally ridiculous that I like mine.”
“We will remain ridiculous together. Anyway, so I’m going to weave in the wedding questions while we’re driving to dinner.”
“Brilliant.”
“Right? It’ll be casual, car chatter, blah blah blah. It won’t seem like I’m angling for something.”
“Again, why have you not shown your father any of your fabulous screenplays?” I asked, as I turned on my phone to see if J.P. had an assignment for me. I had it powered down during the day so I wouldn’t be tempted. If I knew there was an assignment coming through at noon, a chance to snag proof of a clandestine lunch date, or a catch a midday shopping trip, I’d race out of class and chase a picture, and Tuesdays were my busiest days for classes. I had to avoid the tease, and I did that by going dark.
Anaka gave me a quizzical look. “What does planning to talk to my mom about the Bowman and Belle wedding have to do with screenplays?”
“Because this is my point. You plot everything. You plan everything. You’re always mapping out the next scene, the next thing, the way to solve the problem. You’re like the bald guy who ran mission control in the aborted Mars landing movie,” I said.
“But I have better hair.”
“You have hair. And it is way better.”
My phone dinged like a church bell. A message from J.P. I touched the screen and scrolled: Up for a pedi patrol later afternoon? Should be some TV beauties from that LGO hooker show getting toes done in the usual spot.
J.P. must have gotten a tip from one of his very many assistant sources. That was where most of his out-and-about assignments originated. The assistants got a little thank you from J.P. in the form of extra cash.
“Hey, I gotta go,” I said, and strapped on my helmet.
“Ooh, what’s the assignment today?”
I told her and her eyes lit up. “I need a mani-pedi. Can I come?”
“What? And cramp my style? Love you. I’ll see you later. Besides, you have your dinner thing.”
“Get me a good shot.”
“Always.”
As she walked off, I double checked the message from J.P. Then I spotted a new one. From HBG.
HBG: Did you know that Sullivan West will be outrunning Nazis tomorrow evening at the Silver Screen Theater on Wilshire? First time in more than a year that Bandits of the Forgotten Crown is being shown on a big screen in L.A. I’d love to take you.
Damn. My heart started tap dancing on my brain.
Then I read a second text from him.
HBG: P.S. Did you know the Silver Screen Theater has….wait for it…air-popped popcorn? You probably knew that but I have a hunch you might be a fan of air-popped popcorn. You are, aren’t you?
As I re-read the note, the tap-dancing sped up, my damn heart beating out a staccato rhythm so quickly that all logical brain cells were quashed. The rational lobes shut down, and I was left with only the emotional, hormonal ones that took control of my fingers and made me reply with a You’ve got your yes.
Because movies, air-popped popcorn and the Silver Screen Theater on Wilshire formed my trifecta.
As I headed for the strip of street with the best mani-pedi salons in town, I found myself looking forward to seeing the movie with him.
But when I arrived at manicure row, I wasn’t happy to spot William Harrigan parking his motorcycle down the street too.
That fact that he was here could only mean one thing.
Chapter Nine
Jess
“Tell me I’m not paranoid. Tell me you’re not phasing me out.”
“You’re not paranoid,” J.P. said. “I’m not phasing you out.”
I ducked into the doorway of a juice cleanse store, pressing my back flat against the brick wall so the pair of mommies pushing strollers could exit. “Tell me why he’s on the same stakeout two days in a row then. You used to send me solo.”
“Competition is good for the soul, Jess. Either that or I’ll just tell you now I’m secretly practicing for the matchmaking business I’m going to open soon and you and Criminally Handsome are my first test,” he said, and I could hear the tease in his tone, like a cat playing with a mouse. He was toying with me, and he was having a damn fine time.