He bends one long arm to scratch his neck, his grin going rueful again. “My mom chewed me out pretty bad this morning,” he tells me. “Never too old to get an ass-chewing when you deserve it, you know?”
“If you need more ass-chewing, I have a friend who’s really pissed at you too,” I offer.
He laughs. “Yeah, I think I met her in the park this morning. She threw a yoga brick at me.”
“You might’ve deserved it.”
“I’m pretty lucky that’s all she threw. That was an asshole tweet. I shouldn’t have even sent it to my sister privately. She works hard. Really hard. You know we almost lost her in a car accident about eighteen months ago?”
I knew Ellie walked with a limp when I moved in next to her a year ago, but I didn’t know why. I shake my head.
“She worked her tail off to walk again, to get back to work, and she just finished a project that’ll save the city a buttload of money every year in energy costs. And I just model underwear and encourage people to wear comfortable stylish clothes.” He shakes his head. “You keep doing you, Sarah. Save your giraffes. World needs more people like you. Give it up, Taser Lady.”
He holds out a fist, and even though the last person I fist-bumped was a drunk stranger on the light-rail downtown over a year ago, I bump his fist back.
He grins at me.
And I smile at him, because it’s nearly impossible not to.
“Thanks for your time,” he says. “You didn’t owe me anything. Really appreciate it.”
“Sure,” I reply. “People say stupid things all the time.”
“Is that a wrap?” Mackenzie asks, and I jump.
I almost forgot she was there.
“That’s a wrap,” Charlie says.
Beck leans back, and I realize he was sitting here with his arm on the back of my chair practically the whole video.
And now I feel weirdly cold.
“As soon as I check my phone, we should have a draft from the lawyer for the agreement,” Charlie says. “I’ll send it over.”
Poof.
Magic all gone.
Now we’re back to work.
Which is what that video was.
Work.
Not me sharing my passion with someone who understood. Just work. With someone who has to pay people off enough that his team has a standard agreement that a lawyer just has to modify terms for. On a Saturday night when he should be out doing anything other than work.
“Ohmygod, the game!” Mackenzie squeals.
She darts for the living room with my phone, and a moment later, she’s whooping with joy. “We won! WE WON! Two in a row! WE WON!”
“I’ll look over everything and get back to you in the morning,” I tell Charlie.
Okay, yes, I’m calling my parents’ lawyer and swearing her to secrecy, even though I said I wasn’t. I’m pretty sure they’re not on social media, but their friends will be.
And I’ll call them before I post the video too.
I will.
And then I’ll tell Mackenzie who I really am.
I swear.
She deserves to hear it from me.
All of this is happening so suddenly though. I’m just not sure I’m ready.
Twelve more hours. Twenty-four, tops.
Beck squeezes my shoulder. “Thanks, Sarah. I really am sorry for dragging you into this.”
I ignore the skitters fluttering in my belly and nod to him. “I just hope something good comes of it.”
And that my life can go back to normal very, very soon.
He and Charlie reclaim their electronics from my living room and head out, but not before Beck looks back at me one more time, studying me with gravely serious eyes that make my pulse kick up and my breasts tingle before his easy grin comes back. “Thank you. Again.”
He looks like he wants to say something else, but Charlie nudges him, and they depart, leaving Mackenzie and me alone again to rewind my DVR and catch up on the game. Meda spies on us from her hidey-hole in the cat tower next to my bookshelves of Buffy the Vampire Slayer comic books, and I act like we didn’t just see an underwear model out the door while I try to figure out how to just toss out Hey, Mackenzie, funny story about my childhood and utterly fail.
Yep.
Life’s going back to normal.
Seven
Sarah
The parking lot at the nature center is fuller than normal when I arrive for Sunday morning clean-up. Mackenzie and I volunteer here once a month to help pick up trash, repair trail signs, and do anything else the little preserve in the Belmont district of the city needs. I head toward the small cabin that serves as both ranger station and mini-museum for visitors to learn about the animals that live in the city, and someone calls my name.
“Sarah! Sarah, right?”
I nod at the perky woman approaching in a Belmont Nature Preserve T-shirt.
“How much did Beck Ryder pay you to do that video?” she whispers.
I open my mouth.
Then shut it.
Because I haven’t posted the video.
I haven’t even opened Twitter since yesterday morning, mostly because Mackenzie talked me out of it during my three minutes of weakness when I wanted to.
“Back up, Tricia,” Mackenzie says, sidestepping the woman to link her arm through mine. “Betcha I pick up the most trash.”
“How did he post the video?” I whisper. “I just sent the contract back an hour ago, and I didn’t post it yet.”
Her lips twitch, and she points a shaky finger at a tree, clearly trying to distract me. “Look! Do you think the baby robins have left the nest yet?”
“What. Did. You. Do?”
“You were going to edit the video,” she whispers.
“Mackenzie!”
“And you didn’t do it for the money,” she adds as I yank her off the main trail and into a small alcove that’s not nearly private enough.
“Mackenzie.”
My phone buzzes. I yank it out, and there’s a message from Ellie.
Hey, Beck here, borrowing E’s phone. Thanks for the trust. I’m re-tweeting the video now. Will send receipts for the donations ASAP.
My chest buzzes.
My feet go lightheaded.
Swear to god, they do.
I was supposed to have another few hours to call my parents, who probably aren’t even up yet in California.
“I have to tell you—” I start, but Adriana, the center’s manager, rushes from the cabin to hug me.
“Sarah! Oh, Sarah, why didn’t you tell us you were dating Beck Ryder?”
“I—we—we’re friends,” I babble.
That’s what the contract said to say.
Kind of.
Both parties agree to refrain from speaking negatively of the other, or from starting rumors, blah blah blah.
Okay, fine. We’re friends is the standard Hollywood code for we want you to wonder what we actually are.
“So it was just a joke? That tweet about having babies but not with him?”
“Sarah! Was that you?”
“Sarah! @must_love_bees Sarah?”
“Oh my god! Sarah! You two are adorable!”
“I think your boyfriend owes you security,” Mackenzie whispers.
I look at Adriana. “I have to—”