I typed more on my phone, as if I were answering a message, then laughed at the screen, positioned it higher, tapped it twice to zoom, and snapped a shot of Lolanna soaking her feet. Anaka would make good use of the photo.
William tipped his forehead to his feet. The manicurist was starting to polish his toenails red. “Didn’t want you to miss the main attraction, Jess.”
“Of course not,” I said, tucking my phone into my pocket.
The lady next to William started looking at Lolanna, and then a woman across from us peered over the top of her home design magazine at the girl. All the while, he didn’t seem to notice a thing.
I cocked my head to the side, considering the constitutionally good-looking British guy in front of me. Was he acting clueless or did he truly not recognize the teen daughter of one of America’s most bankable male action stars? How could he miss her? Every night I studied my flash cards. I had a whole stack of index cards with celebrity faces pasted on them. The ones with children had their kids’ pictures on the back side. Thanks to my daily regimen of review, I could spot a face in seconds–from the A-list down to the D-list, their off-spring, their significant others, and sometimes even their agents and managers too, but usually only if they were dating or doing said agent or manager.
“What?” he asked, when he realized I’d been staring at him. “Do I have something on my nose?”
“You don’t recognize her,” I said, as if I’d caught him rooting around for money in his mommy’s purse.
“Sorry?”
“You don’t recognize her,” I repeated in a low voice, and nodded slightly in Lolanna’s direction. He followed my move, and I watched his eyes survey the sunglassed-girl quickly, then he returned to me.
“Sure I do.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Who is she then?”
“You know, she’s that girl,” he said, and waved a hand dismissively.
I laughed and shook my head. “That is hilarious.”
He held up his hands sheepishly. “Fine. You caught me. I am not one hundred percent up to speed on American celebs. Which movie did she star in?”
I laughed again, then leaned closer to him to whisper Lolanna’s pedigree.
“Oh yes! Exactly. I was going to say her next.”
I shook my head. “And I thought J.P.was trying to give me a real run for my money.”
“You don’t think I’m worthy competition?”
I pointed from my naked nails to my blue eyes. “Let’s just say I’m more impressed with your color matching skills than with your facial recognition abilities. You obviously don’t practice the latter, do you?”
“The latter?”
“You know, flash cards. Web site studying. Photos of famous faces. Don’t you practice?”
“Of course, of course. I could spot the BBC stars like that,” he said, and snapped his fingers. “But, like I said, I need to get up to speed with this side of the pond. Do you? Practice a lot?”
“Of course. How else would I be able to do my job? You never know when, where or who you might run into. Always be prepared.”
“Right.”
“Why aren’t you taking her picture now that you know who she is?”
“Well, didn’t you? I mean, we’re working for the same guy. He always takes the first to file.”
“This picture isn’t for him. The shot I got is for my best friend only.”
“Does she run a photo agency?”
I shook my head. “She uses them in this really spoofy, funny sort of way. Here. I’ll show you,” I said, then I tapped on my phone to call up Karina’s Burn Book. But I stopped before the page loaded. Something about this moment felt too close, too intimate. I might want to press my body against his, but I wasn’t ready to show him my best friend’s tongue-in-cheek, anonymous Web site. Whether he recognized Lolanna Winifred or not, he was still the competition. Besides, he might very well be asking me for ice cream and pedicures for the very same reason I was saying yes to his requests—to glean information.
“Darn. Page not loading,” I said, and stuffed the phone in my back pocket.
“Bloody phones,” he said with a nod, as the manicurist put the finishing touches on his toes. “Mine was slow as hell while I was looking up the movie times earlier. Speaking of, are we back on?”
“You think now that we’ve shared a pedicure–or rather that I’ve watched you have your toes done–that a movie is happening?”
He shrugged sheepishly. “I was hoping so.”
Then it hit me. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I wanted to know what he was up to. I wanted to know why he didn’t recognize Lolanna. “You know, William, I believe if we finish up soon, we can even see that film this evening. Let’s not wait ‘til tomorrow.”
William
We rode separately to the theater. It was only a few miles away, and we both knew the back roads, so she followed me as we sped away from traffic and to the Silver Screen Cinema. Once we arrived at the theater, I was no longer thinking of my slip-up at the salon over Lolanna, nor was I thinking about James’s very soon directive. I was thinking about taking a girl I was interested in out on date.
I paid for the tickets, held open the door, snagged the popcorn, and then sat down next to her in a mostly-empty theater after she picked two seats by the side. As the lights dimmed, she dipped her fingers into the air-popped popcorn tub.