A few directors’ chairs are set aside for me, Micah, and the boy actor’s mom to sit in while the cast goes through their rehearsals. I’ve watched hundreds of commercials get filmed, but for some reason this time my nerves are on edge. I keep watching Micah’s reaction out of the corner of my eye, readying myself to step in and intervene on his behalf if he sees anything he doesn’t like. I also keep an eye out for Hailey to show any signs of distress. If she gets upset, we’re done.
The whole rehearsal goes off without a hitch. Well, for Hailey at least; she nails her lines more often than Sloan, who keeps flubbing his scenes with the adult actress. It’s not like him to be this distracted on set, and I make a mental note to message him later and ask if everything’s okay. According to the tabloids, his last relationship ended badly. Maybe that’s what the whole “pining” joke was about?
When the rehearsal is over, Micah invites Sloan to dinner with us at a restaurant a few miles away from the set. Sloan gets in the back with Hailey, and off we go—right through the growing crowd outside the gates.
The car moves at a crawl as Micah grits his teeth and slams on the brakes every few feet to avoid yet another fan who jumps in front of him. Phone cameras flash as the women close enough to see Sloan through the back window try to get a picture of him, though I note that several of the women aim their phones at Micah, too. It’s like they think he’s one of the actors and not a stage dad.
Once we get on the road, we manage to ditch the fans, though I note that several run for their cars to try to follow us, and some cars that were parked along the street pull out the second we turn, staying close to our bumper through the madness that is LA traffic. I grip the door handle as Micah tries to lose them, but I bet they’re paparazzi. If that’s the case, he’s not going to dodge them any time soon. Those sharks are relentless.
“Sorry, man.” Sloan flips off a photog who tries to get a shot of him while hanging halfway out the window of a passing car. “I’m used to this shit. I should have driven myself and met you there.”
Micah grunts and swerves away from an aggressive driver to his left. “Don’t worry about it. They’re the ones who are the assholes if you ask me. I never understood why someone would choose to be a professional stalker like that. Do you get this shit all the time? Like, is the restaurant just going to be more of this?”
Sloan sighs. “Probably. Again, sorry.”
A muscle in Micah’s jaw tics, and he cuts across two lanes to take an abrupt exit. Horns blare and tires squeal as the other cars try to avoid hitting us. I bite my lip and grip my purse a little tighter.
The route Micah takes us is so circuitous that even I get confused as to where we’re going. I don’t figure out that he’s taking us home until we’re turning onto our street. Probably not the smartest move, given that at least two cars managed to keep up with us through all that, but I suppose a private dinner at home is better than dozens of ogling fans and nosy photographers interrupting our meal in a public restaurant.
If anything, we can use Karen as a weapon against the remaining followers. She’ll kick the paparazzi out of the neighborhood faster than any manager could get them out of a restaurant.
Micah pulls into his driveway and tells me to stay put until he can open the door for me. Sloan unbuckles Hailey and shields her from the flashing cameras as he gets out, which apparently is what Micah planned to do for me. He opens my door and takes off his jacket, holding it between me and the photographers, who at this point have gotten out of their cars and are dangerously close to venturing onto Micah’s property to get a decent shot.
“Come on, Iris. Let’s get everyone inside.”
Sloan uses his broad shoulders to block the cameras while Micah unlocks the door. We rush inside, and Micah and Sloan reach out to double-flip the paparazzi before slamming the door behind them.
Hailey, who had been uncharacteristically silent the whole drive, pipes up as soon as the door is closed. “Daddy, why is everyone taking our picture?”
Micah takes Hailey from Sloan and sets her on her feet. “Because Mr. Sloan is a famous actor, honey. They want to make money selling pictures of him.”
Her face screws up in confusion. “Why don’t they just be nice and ask?”
Sloan crouches next to Hailey. “Because they get more money if they’re rude and take candid shots. You know what candid is?”
Hailey’s eyes go wide. “They shoot candy at you?”
I snort back a laugh. This is actually semi-serious, and I shouldn’t make fun of her.
“Not quite, kiddo. Candid means they take the pictures without asking. People pay more for that, so those assholes never ask.” He clamps his hand over his mouth and looks to Micah. “Oops! Sorry. I forget to watch my mouth around kids sometimes.”
Micah shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. She’s heard worse. Come on; the living room is this way. I’ll pull the curtains for us.”
Dinner is surreal. Not because a famous movie star is at the table with us, but because I’m accustomed to our little family of three for dinner. Now there’s a fourth body at the table, and my brain doesn’t seem to want to reconcile that fact. Sloan’s presence almost feels like an intrusion into my private world.
It doesn’t help that Sloan keeps giving me these weird sideways glances. Is my hair a mess? Micah braided it for me before we left today, so it should look okay. During a trip to the bathroom after the meal is over, I check it. Nope. That’s not what’s on his mind.
Hailey drags Sloan by the hand over to her beanbag chair after dinner, and Micah and I take the couch. Hailey insists that we put on one of her favorite animated movies, and I’m surprised when Sloan casually announces that he voiced one of the main characters. I had never noticed, but now that he’s mentioned it, I do hear it.
As is typical when a kid is having fun, Hailey whines and complains when bath time comes around. She wants to play more with “pretend Daddy Sloan.” Micah has to practically drag her upstairs kicking and screaming.
Once it’s just me and Sloan in the room, things get strained in the living room. Now I’ve got to play hostess until Micah gets Hailey to bed, and with as wound up as that kid is, it could be a while. I wrack my brain for something besides TV to use to entertain Sloan. If I were the gaming type, I’d suggest we turn on Micah’s GameStation. I don’t even know how to get the TV to connect to the damn thing, though, so that’s out.
To my horror, Sloan breaks the awkward silence with an even more awkward question.
“How come we never dated, Iris?”
My cheeks flare with a heated blush, and I choke on my sip of wine. When I manage to stop choking and get my breath back, I turn a wide-eyed stare to Sloan. “Excuse me?”
