by Holly O'Dell
I tried to avoid it, but all roads apparently led back to Miranda. And why not? Besides being inhumanly gorgeous, she has charisma, style, smarts, and a sense of humor. And she's so damned nice, plus she gave my best friend the job of her dreams. "Miranda's really great. How did Hollywood not get to her?"
"Family. She's really close to the whole familyaunts, uncles, cousins, you name it. Her dad wouldn't have a prima donna in his household, and she doesn't want one in hers, either."
"Sheesh, is there anything this woman can't do?" Michael opened his mouth to answer, but the Mets took the field, and I leapt from my seat and started shouting. He looked startled.
"FYI," I said between shouts, "I can't be held accountable for anything that escapes my mouth during a Mets game" Michael scanned me quizzically. "I sometimes forget that it's not just me watching the game in front of my TV in the privacy of my own home, so I go a little crazy on the jeers and the slandering."
"Should I be afraid that security might have to escort us out? I don't want to show up on the scoreboard being hauled out of my first New York baseball game"
"It would certainly liven things up, wouldn't it?" The pitcher was setting up for his first throw of the day. "Okay, gotta watch the first pitch." I leaned forward in my seat.
I hooted when he threw a strike, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael flinch. Unexpectedly, I patted his knee. "There, there, don't be afraid."
411t's just interesting how one of the slowest games in the country could make you this hyper."
"Don't worry, they usually get me with the tranquilizer dart by the bottom of the third. And besides, I thought you were a sports fan"
"I am, but I save all my rowdiness for the Lakers"
"Courtside seats?"
"Oh, sure," he casually waved a hand, "me and Jack Nicholson like to talk shop during halftime. No, I usually was in the nosebleed seats, but hey, I was just glad to be there"
"And I'm glad to be here, so thank you" Without barely a breath, I booed with the rest of the crowd when the ump obviously made a bad call and one of the Brewers got a base-on-balls.
I turned to Michael. "I guess I should have warned you that I was uber-fan."
He smiled. "No warning necessary. I'm having fun watching you have fun." I threw my arms up in the air when a double-play ended the first half of the inning.
I turned to him again. "You now have my undivided attention for three minutes."
"Man, you really are rigid when it comes to this game. Have you always been a big baseball fan?"
"Pretty much, but not the Mets until about three years ago. Oh, here's a good story. I went on a date once with a guy when I first moved here who claimed to play for the Kansas City Royals. Little did he know that they were my hometown boys. Totally caught him in a lie. And then you know what he said? `Did I say Royals? I meant Chiefs. I play football.' At this point I was thoroughly creeped out, but like the naive 22-yearold I was, I overlooked it, thinking that he probably would redeem himself. And, of course, he didn't. It's amazing the red flags you can look past when you're younger."
"I hear that"
"So, what was your worst date, Michael?"
"You mean I have to pick just one? When I was in my early twenties, I went on a date with an incessant nose-picker."
"Eww!" I cried.
"Wait, I've got one better. Also in my early twenties, I was set up with this girl through one of my friends. Really good looking and smart, he said. And she was. The only trouble was, even though she was 21, she had a strict curfew."
"That's creepy"
"Oh, it gets better. Her dad was two tables away from us, making sure no one took advantage of his little girl."
"Poor guy. The early twenties just weren't your years for dating."
He shrugged and looked right at me. "Maybe my luck will change"
Suddenly, he shifted uncomfortably. "I, uh, think I'm going to buy a hot dog."
"But the Mets are just getting up to bat!" I cried.
"Don't worry," he assuaged me, "they'll be up again at least another 24 times."
"Well, in that case, bring back two for me" He chuckled and shook his head as he started walking up the cement steps. "I'm serious!" I called after him. "I want everything but onion on them too." He looked scared, which is probably why he obliged.
By the time Michael had returned, an entire inning had passed. I greedily grabbed the hot dogs. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I was worried you weren't coming back. I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I wanted to eat my weight in hot dogs. You looked a little put off when I put in my request to you for them."
"Not put off, just surprised, once again."
"I suppose where you're from, girls don't eat hot dogs"
"Where I'm from, girls don't eat."
"Too bad. They're missing out!" I took a delicious bite of my hot dog, perfectly dressed up with condiments. I examined it, impressed. "Did you put this dog together?"
Michael nodded proudly. "My first job was at a hot dog stand in Santa Monica when I was fifteen"
"And you're the one who's surprised? Look at you, Mr. Suave Publicist, with meager beginnings at a hot dog cart. It's like an E! True Hollywood Story."
"If nothing else, my dad gave me a strong work ethic. Any job was one worth doing right." He leaned forward and grabbed a bag. "Here, I got you this, too"
"More hot dogs?" I said hopefully, having almost polished off my first one. I reached into the bag and pulled out a starched New York Mets jersey.
"I wanted to give you one of those foam finger thingies, but they were fresh out" He glanced down, looking rather shy.
"Wow. Wow." I shook my head in disbelief. "Get ready to be surprised again, Michael, because I'm speechless."
"I'm glad."
"Glad I'm speechless?"
"No, no, glad you like it. Do you have one?"
"Uh, no. The only thing I have is a faded National League Champions T-shirt from when they played the Yanks in the Subway Series." I slipped the jersey on over my red v-neck shirt. "How much do I owe you?"
"Are you kidding? Nothing. Consider it a one-month anniversary gift."
"A what?"
"Um, uh, one month anniversary of the start of the Devin account," he stammered. "Not our anniversary, no. That would just be, well, odd" I watched Michael stare straight ahead at the pitcher's mound, shoulders slightly slumped.
I didn't get it. We were talking, laughing, having a great time, and then he made that off-the-cuff comment. What did it mean? Why did I care? I chewed my nails haphazardly. Needless to say, my enthusiasm for the game, and for Michael, waned.
"Are you interested in him? Even a little bit?" Anna and I walked briskly through Central Park. She was her trendy little self with black yoga pants, a black knit tank top-and the only redhead I know who could pull off a pink bandana.
"No, and you know how I know? I ate two hot dogs in front of him with the works. Did you hear me? Two. And I didn't even flinch. Now, if this were a date, I would have sat politely and pretended that hot dogs made me sick. Besides, he made some off-handed comment that I can't get out of my head"
"Uh, oh. Was it an innocuous comment that you interpreted as hostile?"
"Hostile's not the word. Just perplexing. Things seemed fine. He bought me a jersey and said it was for-"
Anna halted. "Hold up. He bought you a jersey? That's certainly something above and beyond the call of duty"
"What do you mean?"
Anna shook her head, her foolish apprentice not yet as wise as she. "Michael, who you've only known for what, six, seven months, bought you a jersey of your favorite sports team"
My forehead crinkled as I tried to process what exactly had happened between the two of us the day before at the ballgame. "He was just being nice," I limply suggested.
"Holding doors open is nice. Taking you to a Mets game is nice. Buying you a jersey? I dunno, sounds like someone's got a bit of a crush on you."
"Wait a sec,
" I raised a hand as we followed a curve on one of the walking trails. "Ain't nobody crushing on no one. Right after he got me the jersey, that's when he got weird." And I told Anna about the anniversary comment.
Anna shook her head. "Poor guy"
"What?" I exclaimed. "He's the one who's the weirdo here, and you're giving him the `poor guy' treatment?"
"Don't you see? He was nervous. He was probably just trying to cover up his feelings."
"Sure, feelings of regret and remorse for inviting me to the game in the first place"
Anna pointed a stern finger at me. "Uh, uh, uh, none of this negative self-talk. Besides, I'll just get the inside scoop from Miranda," Anna offered casually.
"Please, don't bother."
"You're at least keeping the jersey, right?"
"I may find him somewhat bizarre, but I'm not stupid!"
We picked up our brisk pace again. "Kate, I really don't think Michael is a bad guy. Maybe he's just not good around women. Do you know his dating history?"
"He briefly mentioned an ex-fiancee a while back, and we shared horror dating stories. Oh, and that's another thing. He gave me this weird look and said that maybe his dating luck would change."
"Don't you see? He is interested in you!" I could sense Anna's exasperation with me. "That's it, I'm getting some more details on him from Miranda"
"No!"
"Why so adamant?" Anna raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"Why get her involved? My theory is that those two have something going on on the side, and besides, I need to learn to deal with this Michael thing on my own, since if we nail this Devin thing, we're going to be working together for a long time."
"First of all, I highly doubt those two have anything going on between them. She talks about him like a friend, not someone she's dating. Second of all, quit being so darn stubborn and just accept my help. What harm is there in talking to Miranda?"
"Gee, I don't know, it could make things even more awkward between me and Michael, if that's even possible? Thanks for the offer, hon, but I'll just handle it on my own."
"Not even the slightest bit interested in him?" Anna squeaked in a small voice, moving together her forefinger and thumb.
"I can't believe we're still talking about this. You're the one who has the big news going on. I feel like we haven't talked in ages, now that you have to report to a movie set every day"
"I am busier than I could have ever imagined."
"Good busy or bad busy?"
"Great busy! I don't get to hang out much on the set, and when I do, it's just for touch-ups, but the eye candy doesn't hurt. Mmm-hmm" Anna licked her lips.
"All right, who is he?"
"Let's just say that a certain Andrew Trotter has requested me as his personal makeup artist."
I gave a blank stare, and Anna laughed. "Holy cow, Kate, you really are clueless! I'm amazed at how you can work in PR and not know who these famous actors are"
"I have never heard of this guy in my life."
"So I might have exaggerated a titch when I called him famous." Anna shrugged. "He was on some daytime soap for a year, and this is his first movie. He's doing a supporting role in the film. I can't believe he didn't get his big break until now. Whew. Is he good looking."
"Perfect. You go to work, you have the promise of hooking up with a hottie. Karma is on your side. I'm happy for you, really, I am. And by the way, can we slow it down a bit? We're practically running. And you know I won't run even if I'm being chased."
"I can't help it! Thinking of Andrew must have just gotten me going. I just have to take care of the Tommy thing."
"You're still stringing him along?" I almost felt bad for the guys Anna dated; I sometimes thought I empathized more with them than with her.
"Oh, he'll be fine. You want to date him?"
"No, thanks, what with the publicity makeover of my ex-boyfriend and fending off affronts from my coworker, I'm plenty occupied. So, when can you take your soul-cleansing trip?"
"That's the problem. No time with this schedule on the set."
"Oh, is that going to be acceptable to break ritual?" I teased.
"Maybe Andrew can be my soul-cleansing trip this time around, if you know what I mean."
"How do you just hop from guy to guy? Teach me, oh wise one"
"I've tried!" Anna was almost indignant. "But you want no part of it. I still think if you and Michael got your feelings out there, things would be much better between you two."
"Oy, why do you keep bringing him up?"
"In all seriousness, I think he might have a thing for you."
"Again, why do you keep bringing him-this-us up?"
"I want what any girl wants for her best friend ... her happiness."
"Are you going to give me your philosophical speech again about what it means to be happy?"
Anna squinted. "Come on, now, that's not fair."
A twinge of guilt nudged me. "You're right, I might be a little on the testy side lately."
"I can't blame you," Anna replied sympathetically. "You have a lot of pressure going on in your life, what with an ex-boyfriend and a new boyfriend."
"Ack, quit pushing my buttons!"
"But it's so much fun." Anna girlishly skipped. "For real, anything new with Devin? By the way, I can't believe that jerk showed up at the restaurant a few weeks ago."
"Has Miranda said anything about him?"
"Not a word. There doesn't seem to be much connection between the two of them"
"That may be what Miranda thinks, but Devin believes otherwise." I tilted my head. "They haven't been seeing each other, you think?"
"I'm pretty sheltered at work, believe it or not"
"Come on, isn't the makeup artist the one who gets all the dish on movie sets and leaks to the press?"
"Hey, why am I the one being grilled here? He's your client."
"Fortunately, I haven't had to see him the last two weeks. Had some other stuff I had to spin for a CFO at a major company."
"Oh, I love it when you talk work. So cryptic, so vague."
"Only about the confidential stuff. I really could care less about this Devin thing."
Anna stopped dead in her tracks and gave me a knowing look.
I 'fessed up. "Who am I kidding? It's all I can think about, how to get Devin to clean up his act so I can get on with my life. You wanna talk about vague and cryptic? Well, there you go"
"When do you see him next?"
"There's a charity golf tournament this weekend on Long Island."
"It wouldn't be Heart Links, would it?"
"Why yes, it would"
"I think Miranda's going to be on one of the teams. She actually enjoys the charity stuff."
I rolled my eyes. "How convenient. Looks like I'll get to play buffer once again between Miranda and Devin. If he keeps showing up like this, she's going to need a restraining order against him."
Anna smiled. "Not the kind of publicity you're going for, I imagine?"
"Are you sure you don't want to go in my stead?" I pleaded with Anna. "I can pretty much guarantee there will be fireworks"
Apparently I was now the one picking up speed, as Anna had to jog a few paces to keep up with me. "Man, this topic sure got you hot under the collar. Look at you, chastising me earlier for walking too fast"
"I obviously have some steam to burn off."
"At least you're not running away from your problems. You're just walking really fast"
"Har, bar. What, exactly, do you think I can do to make this situation better?"
"Hey, you're the doer in this friendship. I make suggestions, you make it happen."
6411m just tired of my head spinning all the time. Some people thrive on the drama" I looked over at Anna.
She put a hand to her chest. "Moi?"
"You know what I mean. You're quite enjoying this Andrew-Tommy situation. If that were me, I would just give up."
"Yes, and why do you give up so easily?" Anna demanded.
/> I grabbed the towel that had been tucked inside the hip of my red workout pants and dabbed the back of my neck. "I wouldn't say I'm giving up. I just want things to be simple."
"Let's see" Anna stopped and authoritatively put her fist on her hip. "You're a publicist for your exboyfriend who keeps trying to paw the most popular actress in Hollywood, all the while trying to deny your feelings for the perfect guy. I'd say you passed simple a long time ago, friend." "
«Jenna, it's so great to see you" And I wasn't putting on my PR personality; I really was glad to see a friendly face.
"It's been so long. Is Gwen still her neurotic self?" Jenna worked at Burton Relations three years ago and had left for a job offer as a weekend anchor in Buffalo.
"Even more so. Some people slow down with age, but not her. It's not even hyperactivity, really. I can't describe it. I just live it."
"I can't believe you're still working for her." Jenna shook her head, her perfectly coifed blond hair barely moving.
I could only shrug. Why was I still working for Gwen? Sure, I was making decent money and moving up the ranks quite nicely, but was there more than this? Or had I been so tainted by the Devin project that I couldn't tell right from wrong?
"Hello, where did you go?" Jenna teased me, waving her hand in front of my eyes.
"Just got lost in thought. So, what brings you back from Buffalo?"
"Oh, some of the Buffalo Bills are participating in this golf tournament, so I jumped at the chance to come back to the city-well, technically, we're not in the city now, but that's where I'm staying."
"Do you miss it?" I hadn't realized how much a part of the New York fabric I had become; I couldn't imagine going back to a small town.
"I did at first. Ooh, was I miserable. I lived in a pretty quiet-and by that I mean boring-neighborhood, and I thought, `I left a somewhat decent job in the city I loved for a decent job in a city I can't stand?' But after about six months, I found my niche, and I couldn't imagine leaving. And you'd be surprised by the amount of good-looking men there. And they don't have this pretentious `I live in the city and am important' thing going on."
"That must be refreshing."
"It is. I come back here and see the lights, the glamour, just the energy, and I really love being in Manhattan. But every time I get back to Buffalo, I'm glad to be home. I never thought I would be that girl."
