Mark’s countenance darkened.
Caroline and Emerson sipped, and both squealed simultaneously.
“Kyle, you are a god,” Caroline said.
“I can’t believe you did this!” Emerson said.
“Green juice,” Caroline said, giving me a look that said,He sure as hell didn’t start making green juice for me.
We had both long suspected that Kyle had a bit of a crush on Emerson.
“Ask and you shall receive,” Sloane said.
Emerson put her hand to her heart. “Kyle, thank you.”
“I figured if you were going to be living here, you couldn’t be without your favorite green juice.” He shrugged as if it were nothing. But the look he gave her when he said it told me absolutely everything.
SIX
emerson: limelight
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it every now and then. Not every single time I saw Kyle, but occasionally. And obviously, when he was the first person I saw when I arrived back in Peachtree Bluff last January, I had to question whether that was some sort of sign. But then Mark and I fell into our old routine at rocket speed. And I knew then that Mark was the one for me. That one night I’d shared with Kyle all those years ago had been just that: a night. One single night that didn’t mean much of anything.
I had been in LA almost a year when I met Kyle for the first time. I’d been starting to get small roles here and there, and I had that feeling, that glorious, golden feeling. Getting what you want is fabulous, attaining the goal, crossing the finish line. But the feeling you get when you know that you’realmostthere, that you’re on your way to your dreams, that you might be getting everything you ever wanted in short order... that feeling is almost better.
I thought of that feeling, that same feeling I had now, whenever I was with Kyle.
When I saw Kyle that first morning at the LA coffee house I frequented, I noticed him. Who wouldn’t? He was devastatingly handsome. I knew right away that he must be an actor or, like me, a wannabe actor. He smiled at me, and I smiled at him, and that was it. Insignificant.
But when he walked into the restaurant where I was waitressing that night, I recognized him immediately. And I gave my friend Ellen five bucks to switch tables with me. I had seen him twice in one day. That had to mean something.
When I went over to Kyle’s table, he cocked his head to the side. “I know you...” he said, like he couldn’t quite place me.
“Maybe,” I said. “You look kind of familiar.” He didn’t say anything, so I added, “Maybe we’ve run into each other at a casting call or something?”
Kyle and all his friends had burst out laughing, but I sensed it wasn’t at my expense. I could tell already that there was something completely genuine about Kyle that you couldn’t find much in this town, where everyone spent most of their time trying to be someone else.
“What?” I had asked, amused by the fun they were having.
One of Kyle’s friends smacked him on the back and said, “This guy is about as far from Hollywood as you can imagine.”
Kyle shook his head. “Yeah. No offense—I think what you do is awesome—but I’m not into all that.”
“It’s a shame,” I said. “With that face?”
“You should see his abs,” another of his friends chimed in, making him groan.
I still don’t know why I said what I said next. It was totally unlike me. Much too forward. But with no permission from my brain, my mouth said, “I would really like that.”
I immediately put my hand to my mouth, blushing. “I am so sorry.” I cleared my throat and smiled, recovering. “I’m kidding, of course.”
“No, you’re not,” another friend said.
Kyle was clearly uncomfortable.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated. “I’ll get your waters, and then your waitress will be right over.”
I grabbed Ellen and said, “You have to switch back with me.”
