by Elle Rush
She adjusted herself in the leather seat. The limo was cool. She was in a limo with a movie star who was spending the morning with her. Unglamorous Sydney was getting a taste of the high life. She liked it. Yes, it was temporary, and yes, the entire situation was manufactured. It didn’t take away from the cool factor. She had a gorgeous man who was at hand and trapped with her for almost fifteen minutes. If it were real it would put her over the top, but she’d happily settle for pretend. For a day that was supposed to be from hell, she couldn’t fake blasé in the face of its awesomeness.
Despite the fresh air, the politeness in the back of the limousine was stifling. Sydney hoped she and Chris would find some common ground soon, even if their time together was almost over. “Going back to the conversation we started at the park, what do you do when you’re not acting or being someone’s slave for the day?” she asked.
“What?”
“What do you do for fun? Do you surf? Do you enter barbecue cook-offs with your own secret sauce recipe? Do you hide in your basement and translate the Harry Potter books into Sumerian? Do you…”
“Stop, please! You have a scary imagination. I hike. I’m hoping to hit every state park by the end of next year.”
“How many parks have you visited already?”
“Over a hundred.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of parks.” She’d almost called it. Hiking was better than walking, but not quite the same as running. Sydney liked walking. She’d done a lot of walking trails in the city. She’d never tried an honest-to-God hiking path though. It sounded like a lot of work, but she’d bet the views were worth it.
“I’m taking a photography course. Landscapes,” she offered in return. She’d started with taking pictures out her window, then graduated to local parks and beaches. After some trial and error, she learned she did not have an architect’s eye. Her building shots always looked like the structure was about to fall over. For a time she’d tried to find dilapidated structures for subjects so it wouldn’t matter. Those shots didn’t turn out either. She did better in the natural world.
“You have to go to Castle Crags up in Shasta. It’s not a long hike, but the scenery is amazing.”
“Cool. Any other favorites?”
Chris smirked. “All of them. After California I’d love to do all of the state and national parks in Hawaii.”
“I’ve been to Hawaii,” she said. “I did the bike ride around Diamond Head. It was awesome.”
“You are up on me then. I haven’t been to the fiftieth state at all.”
“You should go. It’s a short flight from Los Angeles. I went in the off season with some friends after my sophomore year at college.”
Chris looked at Benny, who was paying attention to their conversation. He leaned over and whispered. “I’m not a big flier.”
Sydney felt her eyebrows rise above her sunglasses’ frames. “Really?”
The actor nodded. “Uh-huh.”
She was feeling a little naughty after the rush of warm breath in her ear. She leaned toward him. “So you’d take a cruise ship there and back?” she whispered back.
“I think I could handle a plane if I had a pretty distraction,” he murmured. His breath tickled the hairs that had fallen onto her neck.
Her cheeks began to burn. She didn’t even know if he was flirting with her or stating a fact.
Screw it. Terms of service be damned. He was flirting. It was Valentine’s Day, and she hadn’t had a date since February of last year, and Chris was hot and successful and a screen idol worshipped by millions of women, and right now he was all hers. If she was going to pretend that this was a date then she was going to pretend hard enough to believe it and forget the repercussions until they slapped her upside the head, as they no doubt would. Dragging her date along as she completed a list of errands wasn’t the most romantic date she’d had, but it was all she had. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the worst date she’d ever had. She had never returned to Dick’s in Las Vegas or seen the guy who’d taken her there again.
They took a tight left turn and immediately slowed as they jolted over a speed bump at the entrance to the grocery store. The limo stopped in front of the main doors.
Sydney didn’t move. Everyone in the parking lot was staring at them. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.
“Sydney, we’re here.”
“Everyone is staring at us.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“I hate people staring at me. They’re going to take pictures.” Sydney looked over at Benny. “Sorry, no offense.” She despised photos. There was a time when she would have posed with a smile without a second thought. She’d had her fifteen minutes of fame since then. It wasn’t pleasant, and she didn’t want to repeat it; experience was a good teacher.
He reached across the console, took her hand, and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay. Just fake it. If it gets really bad, I’ll cause a distraction. I’ll take off my shirt or something.” He grinned at her, obviously fishing for a smile back.
She tried, but it felt like more of a grimace. He was great looking and sensitive. Of course he was perfect—he was from Hollywood. Where was his alter ego for the women like her who lived in the real world? If she could find someone like that in Norwalk, she wouldn’t need to go to the movies ever again.
“If you want, we can send the car away while we’re inside,” Chris continued.
Yes, please, let’s do that. “No, if we need to make a quick getaway we need it close by.” Besides, the limo was only inconvenient now. In half an hour it was going to give her a fantastic entrance and make someone’s day.
He was still holding her hand. She squeezed back. “Let’s do this. It should only take a few minutes.” She waited for Chris to open the door, but he didn’t. She scooted down the seat, and he still didn’t move. Then the door opened from the outside. Oh, yeah. She’d forgotten about the driver.
Chris got out first. Then he helped her out of the car. Sydney was glad she’d tucked her recycled grocery bags inside her purse. She held her breath as they walked into the store. She could do this.
She pointed to the dairy cooler along the wall. “Let’s start there.”
Chapter 5
Chris knew shoppers. He’d gone baby furniture shopping with his pregnant, hormonal sister. He’d gone shoe shopping with various girlfriends. He’d gone electronics shopping with his co-star Nick Thurston when they’d each bought a new home entertainment system after being picked up for a second season. Now he understood they were all amateurs. Sydney was a shopper. The woman had a precise list and a disconcerting sense of direction. And she could move. They’d be done inside of twenty-five minutes, including checkout time, if he didn’t kill himself first.
She wasn’t being a bitch driving him toward suicide. His death would be completely accidental. It had taken him forever to pull the grocery cart out of the row of death contraptions. And that was after he realized he had to insert a quarter to disconnect the locking mechanism on the chain. When he finally got the cart free, he yanked the handles right into his stomach and knocked the wind out of himself. Then he had to run to catch up as Sydney zipped up and down the aisles.
Two single quart containers of milk. One container of Greek yogurt. Two tins of sardines and a box of Ritz crackers. Two cases of high calcium meal replacement shakes. Men’s deodorant. Lavender hand soap. Chris didn’t think it was possible for Sydney’s list to be more eclectic.
He was spending too much time looking in the cart and not enough time looking where it was going. That’s what he told himself when he rammed the cart into the back of Sydney’s ankle when she stopped dead in the middle of the aisle. It had nothing to do with the sway of her hips as he followed her around.
“Sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?” He was so smooth. Maybe if he crippled her badly enough she wouldn’t be able to run away when he sprang the photo shoot on her later. It was his best plan to date.
“Fine.”
“Why di
d we stop?”
“You can’t go any farther.”
“Why not?”
Sydney waved at the display in front of her. There were trays of heart-shaped cakes and cookies and sprinkle-covered cupcakes. “I am not putting a wheat-starved man in the position of being tempted. In fact, maybe you should move back a bit so the smells don’t weaken your resolve.”
The sweet, yeasty scents in the air hadn’t bothered him until she pointed them out. God, he missed carbs. Usually it was only the thought of pasta that caused his stomach to growl, but the fresh bread being rolled out of the bakery was doing serious damage to his self-control. He backed up a couple steps.
Sydney bypassed all the Valentine’s Day tables and headed right to the cake counter. She pulled a slip of paper from her wallet and handed it to the tiny woman behind the giant glass display case. The woman disappeared for a few minutes and returned with two tin trays with plastic shells covering them. She placed a sticker on each lid and handed them to Sydney, who balanced them carefully as she walked back to the cart. She put her precious cargo in the kiddie seat, where Chris was finally able to see what she was carrying. Individual cakes decorated in white frosting with red piped icing spelling out “Happy Valentine’s Day, Gran” and “Happy Valentine’s Day” respectively, with a “prepaid” sticker on each of them.
“You’re shopping for two different people,” Chris blurted in comprehension. The cart contents made so much more sense. Now he could see the split between the items. He took a second look inside the cart and shook his head. There was an actual divide in the items. Sydney had been placing them on different ends of the cart as she’d loaded it up. Thank God he wasn’t playing a detective.
“I am. But they are at the same location so it’s only one stop. Come on, I’ll stop your torture soon. But first, we get fruit!” She grabbed the front of the cart and spun it until it faced the other direction.
He ripped bag after bag off the roll at the banana stand and handed them to Sydney, who darted all over the produce aisle. Chris held the first one loosely in one hand as he tried to separate the layers and open it for the waiting tomatoes. Not only were the damn things practically ironed together, the static between them also upped the difficulty level when it came to opening them. It took him two tries to realize he was working on the wrong end. He barely kept up to her commands of “open” and “tie” as she filled them with fresh oranges and peppers. Her hands were full of grapes when she spotted a pile of melons two stands over.
“Chris, can you grab a couple of cantaloupes for me, please? And give them a squeeze to make sure they are mostly ripe? Thanks.”
He could do that. He ate melons. He knew the firmness Sydney was talking about, the one between stones and mush. He pawed through the pile and came up with two acceptable specimens.
“How are those cantaloupes coming?” Sydney asked as she came around the corner, holding a bag. Chris held them out victoriously. She took one look at him and immediately whipped around. “Put those down! Where’s Benny?”
Chris dropped them into a crate of Mackintosh apples. “He’s picking out a candy bar. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Look, I said I wouldn’t purposely put you in any humiliating pictures today, but I can’t help you if you set yourself up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Where were you holding those melons?”
Chris started to raise his hands to their previous positions when Sydney grabbed his wrists and forced his forearms back down.
“Just tell me,” she instructed.
“In front of me, chest high,” he said.
“You were holding melons up in front of your chest?”
“Yes.” What was her problem?
“You were holding and squeezing two melons in front of your chest?” she repeated slowly.
“Yes, what’s your…?” Oh, crap. Yeah, that could have been bad. And the guys at The Source owed him one after he blocked a potentially embarrassing shot of a commando Nick in a soaking wet toga last month. There’d been an incident on the set. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Now, please hand me the cantaloupes one at a time.”
Her timing was spectacular. Benny came back as he dropped the second one in the bag and got a shot of him pushing a full cart toward the cashiers. He got another set of photos as Chris loaded the bags back into the cart. The cashier handed Sydney her receipt and a gas coupon, and then handed a second coupon to Benny. Chris couldn’t make out the details, but there was definitely a name and phone number written on the back. The intern seemed pleased.
“I thought purple was more your type. She’s a blonde,” Chris noted as they unloaded the groceries into the trunk. He’d already moved his tux to the passenger seat beside the driver.
“So what? She was cute.”
He waited for Sydney to give instructions to the driver and then helped her into the back of the limo. Her palm was warm in his, and he held it a little longer than was necessary, but she didn’t say anything so he didn’t either. He thought about holding on as she slid across the seat, but Benny was right behind him. Besides, that was date behavior, and this was anything but, no matter how pretty he found her.
Chris settled in beside her and smiled back when she beamed at him. “Don’t worry, you are almost a free man. Mr. Banks is going to drop me off, and then you're done.”
It was a little past nine. She wasn’t going to disappear on him already. She couldn’t. He must have heard wrong. “Excuse me?”
“Mr. Banks, the driver? He’s going to drop me at my grandmother’s seniors’ complex. And then you have fulfilled your obligations for the sweepstakes. Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it. I can get myself home by noon from here.”
She was serious. She was going to cut him loose after a few minor errands and a handful of photos. Sydney wasn’t going to try to force him to stay beyond what he was required to, or show off her slave to her friends, or put him through any of the horrible situations he and his castmates had come up with the night before. And she was making it sound as if he did her the favor.
“No, I’m not done with you yet.” She couldn’t leave him in the lurch. Martine said the show’s production company was going all out for the on-set reception. Other people had been invited. Important people. She hadn’t named names, but there was a money connection between Olympus and High Note Productions. The movie people might be checking him out directly. She hadn’t said it in so many words, but it was possible.
He needed Sydney—er, this—badly. Casting announcements were expected next week, and this was his last chance to demonstrate he could woo a woman without a toga. She had to come back to the studio. That’s the type of thing karma would reward him with for starring in this circus.
Not that it was horrible. Chris liked Sydney and her normal life. He used to be good at normal, and it was a nice change. She was nice. He wasn’t ready to part ways so quickly. He was an actor; he should be able to talk her into sticking around for a while. He’d charmed hundreds of fans at conventions and red carpet events. He had to be able to put out enough charisma to sweet talk Sydney.
A cute, confused look flashed across her face. “Why not? Benny got all kinds of pictures, right?” She looked at the teenager sitting across from her. “You did, right?”
“I got some good ones. I need to upload the grocery store shots though.”
Sydney turned back to face him. “See? The world has seen you fetching my coffee and walking my cat. You’re golden, Zeus.”
She wasn’t kidding. She was trying to get rid of him. Which would be great except that he needed her. “We can help you with the groceries and then give you a ride home.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“I can’t leave you here. Come on, let me carry the groceries up to your grandmother’s place. You’ll have your hands full with the cakes anyway.”
“I said no. However unwittingly, I volunteered for this spectacle. She didn’t. Look, this
is my private life. I’m not going to drag my grandma into this.”
“What if we leave Benny in the car?” Chris suggested.
“Excuse me?” the photographer said. “You can’t leave me behind.”
Chris knew where he was coming from. The intern was trying to get into the studio’s PR department as a paid photographer. The sweepstakes project was the kid’s big shot. Unfortunately, if it came down to Chris using today for a shot at a role and an intern going for a job, Chris was going to pull rank. Benny wouldn’t lose the intern slot, but nobody would be offering him a full-time position.
“There was a four paragraph section in the sweepstakes’ disclosure document authorizing images and such. My grandma didn’t sign it, so you couldn’t use her anyway,” Sydney told them.
“I have releases in my bag,” Benny insisted.
Great, he got the prepared intern. “The lady doesn’t want pictures. So we don’t take pictures.”
“Maybe we could ask your grandma,” Benny said directly to Sydney. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll want to be in a magazine.”
“She’s been in magazines,” Sydney muttered under her breath. Benny was too far away to hear her, but Chris made out the words.
“Sydney, is your grandmother famous?” he asked.
“Famous. Notorious. Same thing. Speaking of, can I get a bit of privacy while I call her?”
“Sure. You know, if you let us hang around, we can give you a ride home afterwards. It’s no problem at all,” he added as a last second incentive. It would be interesting to see how far they could push the car advantage. He needed the time to think of another reason for Sydney to stay.
Chris hopped over to the bench beside Benny and herded him up to the driver’s privacy window while Sydney pulled a cell phone out of her purse. He made use of the opportunity and kept his voice down. “Benny, don’t push too hard on the pictures, okay? You’ll get lots, I promise.”
“Martine texted me while you were in the store. How come Sydney hasn’t mentioned the shoot on the set? She’s talking about going home,” Benny whispered back.
