“By all means.” I assumed he had to be joking. “Consider it a gift. You’ll be the most stylish guy at your next movie premiere.”
“Obviously.” The corner of his mouth twitched.
Before I could respond, the girls peeked out from behind me. “Who are you?” Therese asked.
“I’m Luke.” He crouched to their level with a warm smile that seemed genuine. “I stay in the big house over there.”
“Are you the president?” Amelia asked, her wide eyes sparkling with innocent curiosity.
“No, but I have been to the Oval Office.”
I folded my arms, giving him a skeptical once-over. “Oh?”
He straightened up with an air of exaggerated nonchalance, as if he hadn’t just dropped that bomb casually. “Yeah, for a movie.The Terrorist.Played a Secret Service agent. Maybe you’ve seen it?”
I mean, everyone had seen it. It had been one of the highest-grossing films of last year, and his chiseled jawline had been plastered on billboards from here to Tokyo.
And yet, there he was, standing on my doorstep, larger than life, as if he’d stepped out of one of the very scenes I’d been writing all morning. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d been trying to envision him while working on my story, and now, here he was in the flesh.
He hesitated, his gaze steady, and was that sincerity I saw there? “In addition to returning your hoodie, I wanted to thank you. For yesterday.”
“It’s no problem. It’s my job.”
He frowned, tilting his head slightly. “It’s your job to rescue people who get trapped by bachelorette parties?”
“Uh, yeah. Happens all the time.”
He nodded slowly, as if sincerely trying to decide whether I was serious or not. Then, he flashed his signature lopsided grin, the one that made women across the world swoon. It was the kind of grin that made you feel like you were the only person in the room, even if you were in a crowded theater.
Just then, Amelia tugged on my sleeve, her small voice cutting through the silence. “Aunt Anna, is he going to read with us?” Her wide eyes brimmed with excitement.
Therese piped up before I could respond, bouncing on her toes. “Auntie Anna does all the voices. Can you do voices, too?”
I hesitated, glancing at Luke. There was no way he’d say yes, right? He was Luke Fisher, the guy whose face was plastered on billboards and magazines, not someone who’d willingly dive into a Seuss performance for a couple of kids.
“Oh, no, he doesn’t have time for?—”
“I might have just enough time.” Luke arched his eyebrow, and an amused grin tugged at his lips. “What story are you reading?”
Amelia held up the book as if it were a golden ticket. “The Cat in the Hat. And Auntie Anna makes it really funny.”
Therese nodded eagerly. “You can be the cat.”
The girls were already grabbing his hands and tugging him toward the couch. I stood there, frozen, unsure if I should intervene or just let it happen. Luke Fisher, movie star, sitting on my couch, reading Dr. Seuss? The absurdity of the situation hit me like a tidal wave. He cleared his throat like he was about to perform on Broadway.
“Well,” he said, flipping to the first page, “I hope you’re ready for the greatest rendition of the Cat you’ve ever heard.”
I stood back, arms on my hips, watching him. He was good at this. And not just at making the girls laugh, though he had them in the palm of his hand. No, what struck me was how at ease he seemed, as though he had dropped some charade that he was always playing at.
He glanced up mid-sentence, his eyes meeting mine, and there was something almost proud in his expression, like he was enjoying the chaos he was creating. How could someone like him, someone so polished and untouchable, look so completely comfortable in this little slice of my world?
Holding the book high like it was a sacred text, he intoned dramatically, “I have some tricks. Very good tricks. And your aunt? She’ll betotallyfine with it.”
Amelia shot her hand up like a tiny crossing guard. “That isnotwhat it says.”
Luke blinked, pure innocence. “It’s not?”
“No,” she giggled, lunging to take the book. “It saysMom. Not aunt.”
