While Kara and I didn’t see each other nearly enough, she was the perfect girl friend … not girlfriend, but female friend. Yes, we had sex, but that wasn’t why I liked her. We were good-enough friends that if we didn’t see each other for months, when we came back together, it was as if we’d never been apart. There were never any awkward conversations or expectations. We just accepted each other and were happy for the other’s successes or sad for their failures. We both knew that if the other ever needed anything, they could pick up the phone and their friend would be there for them.
“Yes, I’ll go to Prom with you,” Kara said.
I blinked a couple of times, and Adrienne about fell out of her chair laughing at me. The thing was, I would be happy to have Kara as my date.
“Great,” I said as the smoke detector in the kitchen started blaring.
“You better not have ruined my kitchen,” Tyler threatened.
I ran in and saw that my omelet was black. I picked up the skillet, put it in the sink, and ran water over it to cool it off. Tyler kicked me out. It looked like my cooking privileges had just been revoked.
◊◊◊
Kara and I spent some alone time together in the morning. It wasn’t all between the sheets; we caught each other up on what we’d each been up to. She wanted to know what it was like to be in a movie and see yourself on the big screen. I explained that while it was fun, there was a cost. I told her about how I found myself not trusting people as much anymore and why. It really was different from being an athlete or model.
She told me about what she’d been up to. Kara had a unique look. She was part Indian—the country, not Native American—which gave her a darker skin tone. While Kara did well in the States, she was huge in Europe. She’d become a big enough draw that most European companies were willing to allow her to stay in New York to work. Kara was enjoying not having to travel constantly. I had to agree that being able to come home to your own bed had its appeal.
I did confirm that she was serious about Prom. It would give her an excuse to come home. I knew Gina missed her big sister.
Before I left, Adrienne sat me down to talk.
“The Page Six article in the New York Post generated some calls. There have been a few offers for exclusive first pictures with you and your baby when he’s born. I know I told Pam that I would buy maternity clothes for her in exchange for the first pictures, but honestly, I didn’t intend to sell them.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“I’d like to put feelers out and see how serious they are. We might even get a bidding war started.”
“I’m not sure I want to expose my child to that kind of scrutiny. Rita James made sure Trip and Halle were shielded from the press. I know Pam would be against it, or at least I think she would be. Can I think about it?” I asked.
“I hate to tell you this, but the paparazzi
“I would like to have the full story before I talk to Pam. Since my parents will be my son’s guardians, I’d probably also need them to agree. I don’t want to have this conversation with them without some details. For example, who would want the pictures, what do they plan to do with them, and what we would be paid.”
“You would also have blackmail material on your son when he becomes a teen. No one wants their naked baby pictures shown to their dates,” Adrienne said with a gleam in her eye.
She had a point. I knew my mom wouldn’t hesitate to show my baby pictures if she got it in her head to embarrass me. I might need the ammo someday.
◊◊◊
As I arrived at the airport, I received an email from Saul with the numbers from my movie.
Saul’s email said that they would probably see the number of screens showing the movie drop in the next couple of weeks as new movies came out.
◊◊◊
I’d gotten sick of TSA at the airport. They’d again singled me out to go behind the screen and get patted down. This time the man saw my expression and decided he’d better not touch my junk.
So, I was in a pissy mood when I boarded the plane. I’d gotten my usual aisle seat and found the one next to the window empty. The flight attendant introduced herself.
“I’m Bev, I’ll be taking care of you today,” she said.
“How come he gets special treatment?” the older man across the aisle asked.
I cocked my head sideways as I waited to see what she was going to say.
“I’m sorry, sir, I try to treat all my passengers the same. When I’m done with him, I’ll get to you,” she said, and then turned back to me. “Is there anything you need right now?”
“No, I’m good for now.”
