“Right this way.” Jesse reached for her hand, then drew back, stepping around a dancing couple. As they left the Greystone Mansion together, he forced himself to let go of the feeling in his chest. A small, unwelcomed yearning for love.
7
CHLOE
I’m not jealous, you know.”
“Ah, she speaks.” Jesse dropped a large veggie pizza between them on the bench seat as he slipped behind the wheel. Loosening his tie, he headed down Santa Monica Boulevard toward Ocean Avenue. She liked that he drove a truck. Not a status car, like that capped-tooth poser from the other day.
“Sorry, I needed to process.” She’d been quiet since they’d left the reception. Time Jesse used to call in their pickup order.
“You really think she doesn’t love him?” Jesse powered on the radio, tuning it to the same classic standards the reception band had played. He lowered the volume so the sounds accompanied their conversation.
“You’re an old soul, aren’t you?”
He laughed, the light from the dash accenting the bold lines of his face. “My mom says so, yes.” He peered at her. “What makes you say it? The music?”
“That and just... you. My mom says I’m an old soul too. A throwback.”
“A throwback? Nice.” He rounded the corner off Ocean onto Highway 1.
“You really do know of a place on the beach?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you. So, what’d you conclude during your musing?”
“I don’t know.” She shifted in her seat. “I shouldn’t judge. Stellahas been known to say one thing and do another. She may well love him but acts all whatever about it, covering how much she cares. I guess we’ll see if she can go the distance.”
“Does anyone know if they can go the distance when they start out? Did your parents?”
“No. They met on a set. It was Dad’s first job as the DP and Mom’s first major role. They made a pact to have an on-set romance only. When filming ended and they returned home, their relationship would be over. Instead, they fell in love. It’s been thirty-five years.”
“So love can work out when you least expect it.”
“For some.” Probably not for her. Given her abysmal track record. “What about you? Love in the picture for old soul Jesse Gates? The guy who wrote a love story based on his grandfather’s love letter.”
“I think I’d rather write about it.”
“Ah, the man evades the question with a safe, reveal-nothing answer.”
“We’re here.” Jesse turned into the tight driveway of a three-story, glass-front house on the edge of the beach.
Stepping out on the passenger side, Chloe angled back to see all three stories. “Man, I really need to start writing screenplays.”
“Come on, it’s better from the inside.” Jesse gently tapped her arm, the fragrance of warm dough, bubbling cheese, and hot tomato sauce luring her forward.
After walking through the main-floor kitchen, where Jesse grabbed plates and napkins, they traipsed up three flights of stairs, walking out of a high-ceiling, glass-walled living room onto a wood-and-iron deck.
“This is incredible. Seriously, your first screenplay had to go for top dollar.”
“It’s a studio project. So, yeah, I was paid well.” Jesse lit the gas fireplace, even though it was August, and flipped on a string of round, white bulbs running from one deck corner to the other.
“This is beautiful.” Chloe leaned against the railing, lifting her face to the ocean. “I think the pie is melting from my face.”
“I still don’t know why you’re the one with pie on your face.” Jesse set the pizza on a glass-and-teakwood table.
“Because I was surprised by Ted’s proposal, that’s all. So, paid well? Good for you.”
“Except the money has to last a long time. Who knows when the next job will come along. In the meantime, I’m renting this place. The owner is out of the country for a year and wanted someone to keep an eye on things. My friend Smitty hooked me up. The rent was too much, rather, too little, to pass up.”
