A Little Less than Famous (28 page)

I put down the magazine. “Jake, I know, okay? I know. You’re preaching to the choir right now.”

He stopped pacing and came to sit next to me on the sofa. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Of
course it does,” I said, curtly
. “But what am I supposed to do, Jake? I haven’t seen her since I was a little kid and…I have to know.”

He slipped his hand in mine. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, echoing the words Amanda had said the night before.

“I’m fine,” I said, airily. “Seriously, it’s going to be okay.”

“You think that you can just wave things off, McKinley, and that no one can see what you’re really feeling. You can admit that not everything is okay all the time,” Jake said.

“Jake, I’m fine,” I snapped at him, pulling my hand out of his and standing up. “Why can’t you accept that I’m fine?”

“Because I know you’re not, but
that
you always need to act tough,” he said, looking up at him. I turned away from him, my arms folded tightly across my chest. “But fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, if you want to pretend that everything is fine when it’s not, then okay. I can play that game. But I don’t want to.”

“You know what, Jake? It’s not really about what you want,” I said, picking up my purse from the table in front of us and walking towards to the door.

Jake jumped up, and grabbed my arm before I could make it through the door. “Hey, come on, don’t leave.” He pulled me around to look at him. “Let’s just forget about it right now, okay?”

“And do what?” I asked, feeling cross. 

“You could help me decide what roles I want to go for this summer,” he suggested, indicating the stacks of scripts sitting on the table.
Crime Scene
was to finish filmin
g the current season in late January
and then Jake would be free to work on films until filming for
Crime Scene
recommenced in August. Jake’s agent, Seth, had sent over an extremely heavy package of scripts.
He’d also sent some scripts my way but wasn’t sure how to feel about that yet. So far,
Jake had narrowed it down to three.

The first was the typical Jake Kennedy type of film; over-the-top action film with lots of explosions and shallow plotline. This one had made to it the pile, in my opinion, because it was something he was used to and it was a guaranteed role. His name alone would bring in the money and it wouldn’t matter if the film was actually good or not.

The se
cond was a romantic comedy. The
plotline of this
movie
wasn’t award winning or overly original but it was cute and funny. It was a typical boy meets girl sort of story, taking place in New York City, which would be a great opportunity for Jake to get out of California for a bit and it was definitely something different from what he was used to. It was rumored that Isabelle Monroe was slated to play the female lead, but despite that, it was still a good choice. It was geared toward Jake’s audience and it had the potential to be
much, much
better than the first choice.

The third was the best choice, I thought, and also the most risky. It was a more serious role, a half drama, half comedy based on a best selling novel about a young twenty-something, planning his estranged father’s funeral and discovering more about him than he ever knew. It was an amazing book and I was secretly hoping for this one.  Seth had said that the directors had been thinking of Jake
for the lead role
and was really hoping he would audition. I had a feeling that this was the reason it had made it into the pile. I knew that this was completely away from what he was used to and he felt uneasy about approaching that kind of role.

I sat down on the couch and spread out the three scripts so that they were all facing me. “Honestly, I think you should audition for all them. It leaves your options open. But I don’t think you should do
Assassin,
Jake. It’s old,
and
its tired.”

He sat down on the couch next to me. “Do you really think so?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, definitely. Been there, done that. No one is going to take you seriously if you do another a
ction role, Jake. Especially a unworthy
action role.”

He laughed. “You have got to stop hating on action movies so much.”

“I don’t hate action movies,” I said, delicately. “I just think there’s only going to be so many good action characters
, like Rambo or John McClane,
and that the rest are just the same.”

“All right, all right,” he conceded, “maybe you’re right. But what about the other two?”

“I like them both. They’re both very different but they’re good options for you. They’ll show you in a different light than
Crime Scene
and all those action movies. This rom-com could open you up to more roles, which would definitely be good, you know?” He nodded and I continued. “But Jake, this other role, the one based on Patrick Edwards’ book, that one could be career-changing for you.”

Jake sighed, and ran his hand through his hair, looking a little stressed. “I just don’t know if I can get that role, McKinley.”

“Well,
not
with that attitude, Jake,” I said, whacking him on the shoulder with my hand.

“I’m serious.
Going Home
is the best selling novel of the year; everyone has read it and they want to cast
me
to play the main character. That doesn’t make sense. What have I ever done that says I can pull this off?” Jake said.

I pulled away, looking at him long and hard. Though Jake and I had been dating for about three months, I had only really seen him vulnerable one time; the night we had sat talking outside of Ricky’s house. Now
I was seeing it again
. This wasn’t the overconfident, charming, nothing-can-go-wrong Jake Kennedy that
US Weekly
and
Entertainment Tonight
knew but this was the normal, unsure, still-learning, young Jake that I felt more connected to. “Jake, just because you’ve been stuck doing the same movie over and over again doesn’t mean that you’re a terrible actor or that you aren’t capable of producing something great. You’re great on
Crime Scene
whether you believe it or not. This season, you’ve gotten even better; it’s your best yet. They want you to do this movie for a reason.”

             
“Because I’m famous,” Jake grumbled.

             
“No,” I said, firmly. “No, Jake. That’s not it at all. God, why do you have to do that to yourself? You’re good, you’re really good.”

             
“Sometimes,” Jake started, and then paused. “Sometimes, it’s just hard to do something new, you know. Sometimes it’s hard to take that step and get out of your comfort zone. Its hard to open yourself up to that.”

             
Jake was looking at me knowingly and I knew that he was talking more than just a movie role. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat and avoided his gaze. “Sometimes you have to take a chance, you know? Sometimes you have to get out of the comfort zone because you never know when something great can happen.”

             
He flashed that million-dollar smile at me. “Yeah, you never know what could happen, hmm.” I shrugged, trying to hide my own smile. He bumped my shoulder with his and then took the Patrick Edward’s script from my hands. “You going to be okay without me for a couple weeks?”

             
Jake was leaving the next day for New York. He was going to hit up a few of the talk shows over there, while also going to the New York premiere of
Break.
I paused, as if thinking about, and then rolled my eyes. “Considering that I spent nearly twenty-five years without you, I think I’m going to be okay.”

             
Jake didn’t laugh at my joke. “It’s just the first time that I’m going away for my work. That’s usually what my life is like. I film from August to February, all day, every day. Then I usually spend my spring promoting
Crime Scene
and whatever movie I’ve made and then I spend the summer filming. You’ve been spoiled for an actor’s girlfriend…friend.”

             
“I promise, I’ll be just fine,” I said, laughing. “You’ll be back in a couple weeks and I’m sure you’ll have fun in New York.”

             
“Yeah, but it’d be better with you,” he said, simply.

             
“Well, then you’ll just have to bring me back something awesome,” I said, lightly.

             
“You would like that,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “I’m just kind of pissed that I’m missing Christmas and New Year’s with you.”

             
“Yeah,
I know
,” I said, vaguely. Secretly, I had been very glad and relieved when I found out Jake would be in New York for the holiday season. He had been dropping heavy hints about spending Christmas together, at his parent’s house. This was a definite no-no. I never spent Christmas with anyone other than Luke and my diner family. Never once had I ever spent it with a boyfriend. That was inviting more emotion and more commitment than I was ever willing to give. I knew that Jake would not have taken it well once I had finally told him that I would not be spending Christmas with him and was glad that this unpleasant task was taken out of my hands with this little press tour.

             
“And I don’t like the idea of being gone while you’re going through this thing with your mom.”

             
I winced inwardly. Jake’s obvious affection (I honestly couldn’t think of it more than that) was starting to make me uncomfortable. I knew it wouldn’t be too much longer before I would have to cut the cord, despite all the fun I was having. “It’s all right, Amanda and Luke are here. And I’m a big girl; I can handle it.”

*
             
*
             
*
             
*
             
*
             
*

             
A few days later, I found out I was
so very
wrong.

             
I woke up that morning, lacking all
the confidence I had shown Jake just days before. I took my time doing everything, finding excuses to not get ready to go to Tony’s. I opened the diner, which took me little time. I cleaned out all the coffee pots and then wo
rked my way to the walk-in fridge
, eventually making my way to the fryer. I was halfway through wiping down the griddle when Luke came in.

             
“What are you doing?” he asked, his eyebrow raised and a look of surprise plain on his face. “Why are you cleaning the griddle?”

             
“It’s disgusting,” I said, putting a little more of my arm into scrubbing it. I was starting to get a little frustrated; whe
n was the last time that Chris
or Mitch had clea
ned, really cleaned, this thing?”

             
“She’s avoiding,” Dave called from his seat at the counter. “She’s been running around, cleaning things all morning.”

             
Luke looked at me, and I could see it in his eyes, the same feeling that I had had all day. “Is that true?”

             
“Not at all,” I said, promptly. “I just think it’s about time to clean out the oven. Have you seen the racks? They’re horrible, I can’t believe I bake cookies on there.”

             
“McKinley.”

             
“Seriously, Luke, we need to make a cleaning list for everyone because this is just appalling.”

             
“McKinley.”