A Little Less than Famous (37 page)

“Perfect,” I said, smiling mischievously. “He’ll be over here before he leaves. Easily.”

“Mmhmm,” she said, nodding. I glanced at her, wondering if there was something wrong. Usually Crystal was amused by our little game. Something had to have been wrong at home or maybe she was tired.

I brought out Pete’s food later, dropping it off with a smile.

He took a bite of the sandwich, nodding. “Yeah, that’s awesome.”

“Did you ever doubt me?” I teased.

“Maybe just a little,” he admitted.

“Well, now you know better,” I said, leaning towards him a little to whisper that and then pulling back. “Enjoy, Pete.”

I spent the rest of the time that Pete was there behind the counter. I had made an impression and that really all that was necessary for that. If it had worked-which it usually did-he would be up at the counter before long. I did catch his eye a few times and would accompany it with a smile and an
eyewink
before turning to engage Crystal in conversation. Crystal stayed sullen for the rest of her shift, though I still couldn’t figure out why.

I had just finished restocking everything in the front of house and was just starting to wipe tables down when Pete came up to me. “Hey,” I said, turning towards him. “Heading out of here?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I think I’ve been out of my apartment long enough.” I looked at him, questioning. “My roommate is horrible.”

I laughed. “That sucks!”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, smiling. “It happens. Well, see you around, McKinley.”  He turned around and started heading towards the door.

I felt my mouth drop open. What the hell had just happened? I knew it was February and I had been dating Jake Kennedy since August, but there was no way I had lost it that fast. Maybe he was gay. Maybe I smelled. Maybe I really, really needed to put some make-up on. I tossed my towel on the table, feeling a little frustrated. I didn’t want to
keep
Pete;
I just needed to use him for a little bit.

“Hey, McKinley?”

I looked up and saw that Pete was standing in the doorway. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“I was heading to this show tonight, in L.A. My friend’s band is playing. I was wondering…would you like to come?” he asked.

I bit back a smile. I paused, as if thinking about it. “Yeah, sure. I have nothing else to do tonight. Pick me up at seven?”

He nodded, looking pleased. “Sure.”

I turned back around, hiding the huge grin I had on my face. Oh yeah, I still had it.

We ended up at the Key Club in the Sunset Strip in Hollywood. Pete’s friends band was a ska band, not exactly my cup of tea but it was fun. Pete had complimented my outfit and opened the door for his car. I remember feeling a little letdown at the sight of his car, an old ’98 Toyota Corolla. I had gotten way too used to riding around in Jake’s stupid Volante. I brushed it aside though. He was sweet, asking me things about my life and paying my way into the club.

The night was going well. Pete was polite and acted like a real gentleman. He didn’t touch me more than what was necessary and he seemed very interested in what I had to say. The band was loud and crashing but it was enjoyable enough. I was having a good time and Pete was a really good guy. This was exactly what I needed.

Until suddenly, it wasn’t. The band had finished and Pete wanted to go say hi to them before we left. I told him I would stay by the bar and let him talk with his friends. After about 20 minutes though, I started getting impatient and went to go look for him. I found him by the stage, talking with his friends. I started to make my way through the crowd toward him. I was only a few feet away when I stopped. I had heard him say my name.

“I’m serious, man. I brought McKinley Evans tonight. Yeah, you know, that chick that was on
Crime Scene
.”

“Shut up, you’re such a liar,” the lead singer laughed. “The chick that’s dating Jake Kennedy?”

“The blonde one, yeah?” the bassist asked.

“No, idiot, the redhead one,” the lead singer said, sounding exasperated. “Dude, she’s hot. There is no way she is here with you.”

“Yeah, McKinley is the redheaded one,” Pete assured the bassist. He faced the singer. “And hell yeah, I brought her.”

The lead singer raised his eyebrows and I felt myself do the same. What the hell was going on here?

“That’s pretty badass, Pete. Are you
taking her home?”

Pete smirked. “Are you kidding me? Of course I am.”

I felt my mouth dropped open. In all honesty, I had planned on sleeping with Pete. Not tonight, of course, a girl has to have some standards. But I had definitely been planning on it; Pete was a nice guy and I needed a rebound, pronto. Now I was just pissed off. I took a deep breath though and plastered a charming smile on my face. I walked up to them, stepping right in the middle of their circle, surprising them all.

“You know, I usually find it’s better to ask a girl home before you assume she’s just going to go. That could just be me though,” I said, sweetly, smiling up at them.

“Dude, you did bring McKinley Evans,” the bassist said, his mouth open.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said, sticking my hand out to shake his. His hand remained limp in mine as he continued to stare. I turned to face Pete, who looked shocked. “I think I’m going to head out of here.”

“Oh, no, I’m almost done here,” Pete said, a nervous smile on his face.

“No, I think you’re completely done,” I said, firmly. “Thanks but no thanks, Pete.” I turned around and walked away, hearing the insults his friends were now throwing at him. I walked away outside, grateful for the cooler air. I dug my cell phone out of my purse and dialed the number for a cab, sighing. If this was what it was like to be single, I didn’t think I missed it all that much.

*
             
*
             
*
             
*
             
*
             
*

“Beautiful, McKinley. Seriously beautiful.”

I loved this photographer. Jamie was giving me fun outfits to wear and amazing praise. Nothing I did was wrong and I really needed the ego boost at the moment. For this part of the session, we were in a private cove at the beach (I didn’t even know these existed) and I was in a swimsuit. Luckily, I had more control than anyone over what I wore, and I ended up grabbing an amazing 1950s green vintage
swimsuit
. It was so gorgeous; I wanted to steal it.

“I saw those Suzy Perrette and Anne Fogarty dresses you were wearing and they just looked gorgeous on you,” Jamie said, while we were flipping through the swimsuits. "I knew we had to go vintage and classic looking for
Lush."
Later I had a gorgeous off-the-shoulder white lace cocktail dress from Lilly
Pulitzer
. They sure knew how to make me happy.

I was sitting on the sand, my hair blowing in my face. I reached up to brush a strand out of my face.

“Don’t move, McKinley,” Jamie said, coming in closer with the camera. I heard the unmistakable sound of the camera snapping the picture. “Perfect. Now roll on your stomach, come at the camera.”

I rolled over, getting sand literally everywhere but trying to keep my serious, demure and yet sexy look on my face. I was really uncomfortable. Modeling was not fun, and not as easy as I’d always thought it was. For one thing, it was hot as hell. I was covered in sand and I was having a hard time looking classy and sexy all at the same time. I was having a blast though. The entire photo shoot was catered for me. There was an entire catering service providing my favorite foods and drinks back at the house where we would be shooting later, a full staff of people ready to fix my hair, make-up or clothes at any time and they even had a portable
IPod
stereo, blasting out Ben Wright. There were all the compliments every one was blowing my way. I could seriously get used to this.

"Okay, look down at the ground and to the side. Perfect. Lift your head just a little...a little more," Jamie said. "Awesome. Okay, now I want you to look up at me, but slowly, through your eyelashes. Not your head, just your eyes."

I looked up slowly, my lips parted and I heard the snap. "Perfect, McKinley. Perfect." He looked over at Adrienne, who looked both extremely uncomfortable (who wears slacks to the beach, honestly) and satisfied as well. "I think that's enough for now, Adrienne.”

"Break for lunch and reconvene at the house?" she asked, coming over to me.

"Sounds good to me," he said, happily, straightening up. He offered a hand to me and pulled me up. "You're doing a great job, McKinley. We're going to get some great shots in that Lilly Pulitzer dress."

"Thank you," I grinned, taking the robe someone was holding out to me and slipping it out. I turned to Adrienne. "Can I buy this swimsuit?"

"Yeah, do you want it?" she asked, punching buttons on her Blackberry furiously. "I think Jamie was saying it was 300 dollars."

"Oh," I said, feeling faint. I had that in my bank account; I still had quite a bit of money from my
Crime Scene
paycheck. "And the dress?"

"Probably about a grand," Adrienne answered, offhandedly, steering me back up the beach and to the car. "Did you want me to have them set aside for you?"

"Um, no," I said, running my hands over the swimsuit. Damn, I wanted it. "That's okay."

Adrienne threw a knowing smile my way. "You can buy it, McKinley. No one is going to judge you. Between your episodes at
Crime Scene
and this
Lush
account, you have the money to do so."

I hesitated, opening up my robe to look at it. "It's just so expensive...but it's so cute."

Adrienne laughed. "I, for one, would applaud such a purchase. It's all up to you, of course."

"I'll take it," I said, quickly. "Not the dress though. Let's not get
too
crazy." I climbed into the car and she slid into next to me.

"Soon you're not going to have to worry about the things you buy, McKinley," Adrienne said, still typing into her Blackberry. I wondered who she could be possibly texting; probably someone really famous. "I have a few scripts for you to look over. There are a couple pilots that are going to be filming, which look like something you would be good at. I found a couple small roles in some upcoming movies." I opened my mouth to say something but she plowed on. "I tried to get you a small role in the Patrick Edwards' movie but that didn't go well."

I felt my stomach sink. "I don't want to work on the Patrick Edwards' movie, Adrienne," I said, firmly. "That's a horrible idea."

Adrienne glanced over at me. "I think you're being stupid."

I glared at her. "Well, thank you. Always a good thing to hear."

"I'm not here to be nice to you, McKinley. I am here to help you with your career; if you want a career, that is," she said, opening the door of the car and sliding out expertly without ruffling her pencil skirt at all.

I climbed out the other side, following her as she led me back to wardrobe. I saw the lace dress waiting for me and nearly fell in love again. It wasn't fair. They really shouldn't have grabbed all this one of a kind vintage clothing for this photo shoot. I just wanted to get my hands on all of it.

"McKinley?"

"Hmm?" I said, shaking my head and looking back up at her.

"What were you thinking of doing? Do you want to try your hand at some roles or do you want to continue with some modeling? You're doing a fantastic job at this shoot," she asked. "I also have those scripts with me, in my car."