“What’s with the hat?”
I smile. “It’s so I won’t be recognized.”
She laughs. “You think that purple tourist hat hides the fact that you are Miles Casey, movie star extraordinaire?”
I shrug. “You’d be surprised.”
She leads me to a large stone building on the corner, painted cobalt blue. A matching blue sign hanging overhead readsVelocite (for the love of bikes). Little yellow planters line the door, and a chalkboard propped against the building says they’re open. My mouth is already watering at the smell of coffee.
As we walk in, a man with a slick black pompadour behind the counter sings out, “Hello.”
The inside is just as charming as the outside, with a long, lightwooden bar in the front and matching tables scattered around, half of them filled. A bicycle hangs from the ceiling. I’m still staring at it, trying to figure out how they hung it exactly, as we approach the counter.
“I’ll have an Americano with a splash of frothed milk and a halloumi bagel, to go, please. Miles, what would you like?”
I look at the takeaway menu and am debating between the pizza bagel or the squash and pesto bagel, when I realize the man who vaguely resembles Elvis hasn’t stopped staring at me. Even though I know it’s coming, I plow ahead. “I’ll have the squash and pesto bagel and a latte. Thanks.”
“You’re Miles Casey.”
I smile and nod, ignoring Skye whispering beside me, “Clearly the hat didn’t work this time.”
“I love you.”Skye smirks, and Elvis backpeddles. “Your films, I mean.” He seems to have found himself again and mercifully starts making our drinks as he talks. “Oh, who am I kidding.No one.” He sings again. “I love you. I’ve seen every movie you’ve ever made. You are magnificent.”
Skye’s smile is now reaching from ear to ear. Elvis puts the bagels into a bag and goes back to fiddling with the espresso machine.
“Thank you.”
Elvis hands our bagels and drinks over the counter, then frantically looks around. “Wait, will you sign…” He pulls his phone out of his apron pocket. “Will you sign my phone?”
I laugh. This is a first. “You want me to sign your phone?”
He shakes his head. “Or a selfie. We could take a selfie—or an ‘usie,’ as it were.”
I nod. “Sure.” He hands the phone to Skye and comes around the counter. We stand side by side, just about the same height, in front of the pastry case.
“Say cheers.” Skye presses the phone screen a couple more times. Elvis throws his arm around my shoulder and hugs me closer to him.Some of the other patrons have their phones out now, too. It’s time to go.
I hold out my hand to Elvis. “So nice to meet you.”
Elvis is fanning himself with one hand. Skye hands his phone back.
We take our breakfast. Once we are in the car with both doors shut, Skye starts laughing.
“I’m surprised he didn’t turn around and kiss you.”
I laugh, but that has happened before. “What can I say? I have enthusiastic fans.” Then I remember the dance that she and Kate choreographed. “Fans who make up dances to the theme songs of my movies and watch them over and over with their best friend.”
She turns on the car and immediately turns up the stereo. “All right, all right. We’ve heard about enough of that. Bloody Kate.”
I laugh, but it hits me how close we came to being busted. What if he had taken a picture of Skye and me? What if someone else had and we hadn’t noticed? I duck down a little more in my seat. “We should probably be more careful, though.”
Skye nods, her eyes on the road.
The drive is gorgeous.Lush green hills, massive clouds, and pale-blue sky just peeking out from behind it. We take a turn, and off in the distance, I spot a herd of deer. The buck stands at attention, lifting its head to us as we pass, his massive antlers reaching up to the heavens.
“Look!” I point them out to Skye.
She glances over and nods.“Red deer. Gorgeous, aren’t they?”
