I look at her.
She’s gone back to scribbling in her journal. But she still mutters, “It’ll get me through a few days.”
“No judgment. Eat what you like. Girl dinner, right?” This storm will pass. The cabin’s owners will get the tree cleared away. She’ll be able to get more food.
“I had a bigger list, but they were playing my song at the grocery store.”
“You get recognized?”
She shakes her head.
“Gonna happen pretty soon.”
“I know.”
“Probably need to think about?—”
“Not while I’m in a cabin in the woods.”
Security. A business manager or executive assistant to travel with her. Probably a publicist and stylist too.
People.
That’s what I was going to say, and she knows it.
For the moment, she’s right. Support staff and a security team aren’t necessary in a secluded cabin in the woods. Hell, I didn’t bring any with me myself, and I do tend to have a whole team most places I go.
With the way her career is going, she’ll need them soon too.
“How big is the store?” I ask.
That has her turning around to look at me again. “You arenotgetting me groceries. Youwillbe recognized.”
“I don’t just play action heroes in the movies. I also have slick skills with navigating small grocery stores too fast for the local gossips to arrive and corner me.”
“Hello, ego.”
I grin. “Well-earned. Even if they try something, look at these guns.” I flex my left biceps.
“Nice padding in that jacket you’ve got on.”
My favorite thing about Aspen?
She gives me shit. Regularly.
It’s like we’ve been friends for half my life, despite the fact that I was practically old enough to have a driver’s license when she was born. By the time she was old enough to get a driver’s license, I’d already had a successful career in a boy band and had moved on to a second career in Hollywood.
“It’s all-natural padding,” I say.
“Wool? Or cotton?”
I’m grinning broader as I fill the teakettle with water out of the sink. “Meat. All meat.”
“Chicken or beef?” She’s smiling too.
“Grade A top sirloin. With a space. Sir. Space. Loin.”
“If you have to explain the joke…”
