“Would you like a fitting room, ma’am?” The attendant speaks from behind me. Gosh, how long has it been since I have tried on clothes in a store? In L.A., it’s nearly impossible for me to go anywhere in public without the paparazzi following me.
“Yes, please. I would like that.”
She turns and leads me to a back corner. It’s a simple pleasure, but I gave up shopping for myself a long time ago after a particularly nasty standoff with photographers outside a store. I was trapped inside and the crowd outside was so bad. Now, a stylist selects my wardrobe when I’m not filming. I’ve missed being able to select my own clothes.
“Here you are. You can leave anything you don’t like hanging. I will take care of it later.” The attendant leaves me to handle things on my own. In fact, this is the only store I have been in since I can remember where no one has bothered me. I love my fans but those people are relentless in their pursuit of pictures. It’s all too invasive.
Giddy, I skip into the fitting room, emptying my arms of my massive loot. I smile widely behind the mask. This is going to be fun. I try on a few different options before pulling on the jean shorts and a white tank. It’s simple. Unlike anything I’ve worn in a long time. It’s perfect.
“I just need…” I mutter to myself, turning in the mirror at the outfit. “Ah, those white shoes!”
I yank the door open and rush into the fitting area, only to run face first into a brick wall.
“Whoa there, Hollywood. Where’s the fire?” Preston’s husky voice sounds from above me. The top of my head comes to his collarbone. Not a brick wall then, just a very firm chest. Preston’s hands wrap around my upper arms, pushing me at the same time my hands find his pecs. He flexes at the contact. My palms tingle.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s all good.” Preston realizes he is still holding my arms and jumps, dropping his hands into his pockets. “Need clothes too?”
“I’ve already done laundry but I’m running out of options.” I laugh. His eyes trail down my body, lighting a path under my skin as he goes. My chest rises on a deep inhale when he zeroes in on my chest. Preston’s bright blue eyes darken. I don’t move, afraid to break his trance. People stare at me all the time, but Preston’s eyes feel different. He doesn’t look at me like he expects something of me or what my image can do for him. He just looks at me as I am in front of him. It feels safe. Freeing, even. I can’t explain it, it just is.
“I like this option,” he finally says once he’s finished checking me out. I blush. “What about shoes?” He points to my bare feet.
“That’s what I was coming out here for.” A giggle escapes. “I saw some white sneakers that will finish the look.” Preston nods. “Those are nice.” His cheeks lift and his eyes crinkle. He’s trying not to laugh at my lame attempt to compliment his blue board shorts and black tee.
“I’ll be sure to get them then. What else do you have in there?” He tips his head towards the fitting room I ran out of.
“More of the same. Lounge clothes too.”
“No evening gown or sundresses?” He winks so I know he’s joking.Or is he flirting? When was the last time a man actually flirted with me? Too long.
Leaning in, I lower my voice to a whisper. “Their couture collection leaves something to be desired.”
Preston’s head falls back as he lets out a deep laugh. The sound has my core tightening unexpectedly. I smile, pleased with myself for successfully flirting back.
“Well played, Hollywood. What else is on the list?”
“Shoes and sunglasses.” I forgot to look at the beach section. I’ll look at the suits too but didn’t want to mention that.
“Let’s go get you some sunglasses then.” Preston spins on his heel, starting across the store. I follow, bare feet slapping against the cool floor. His energy is contagious. Hanging with Prestonbrings Ives out, and I like that she is resurfacing. Preston reaches the rack and immediately starts pulling out different styles of sunglasses.
“What are you looking for?” He waves his hand over the display like he’s on a game show. I can’t help but laugh at him.
“I’ll know when I see them.”
“Are you a big frames ‘don’t look at me, I’m famous’ type of gal?” My hackles rise at the insinuation but then I notice Preston has on the most ridiculously large framed black sunglasses I have ever seen.
“Oh my god, those would cover my entire face.” I laugh, trying to grab them off his head but he bobs out of my reach.
“Okay, what about…” He trails off while he finds another pair. I can’t see around his body to see which ones he picks next. “These?” Preston turns and is wearing a pair like inThe Matrix. I lose it at his goofiness. He doesn’t stop there.
“Come on, Hollywood. I thought you need sunglasses?” He adds different moves from the action sequences, sending me into an uncontrollable laughing fit.
Tears are gathering in my eyes at his antics. Grabbing the first pair my hands land on, I play along.
“This is the look right here.” The white heart shaped sunglasses flare out at the sides. They actually don’t look bad. It feels very old Hollywood with my dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail, fitting Preston’s nickname for me.
“You’re gorgeous.” Bringing my eyes back to Preston, he’s removedThe Matrixglasses and is staring at me intensely. I was joking when I said it, but if Preston looks at me like that in a pair of silly sunglasses, I’ll buy them and wear them every single day.
