I tried. I think that’s the first time you ever came to my meet and greet.”
“And you haven’t been able to get rid of me since.”
They both laugh as Hunter Stone turns to the table, his arm still over Martha’s shoulder. “I think Martha here holds the record for attending the most consecutive Prince of Darkness conventions in history. What, eight so far?”
She nods proudly. “Hoping to go for a solid twelve this year, so you’ll be seeing me around for a while.”
Hunter Stone smiles and takes a few seconds to look at every single person sitting at the table. He misses no one, making sure to catch each person’s eye. It feels very personal. Intimate. I’m impressed by the effort it takes to give everyone that experience.
And then his eyes catch mine and they flicker in recognition. One eyebrow raises slightly as his lips slowly lift into a smirk. A flutter settles low in my belly at the idea that he’s recognized me. Of all the hundreds of people he’s met today, he remembers me.
Matthew. He knows Matthew. It is a mutual friend recognition not about me. Of course.
Clearing his throat, his eyes skirt the room. I note the moment he spots the empty chair next to mine. Releasing a reluctant Martha, he shifts out of her personal space and makes his way my direction. Or rather, the direction of the empty seat. Clapping his hands together his voice commands our attention “Alright ladies, my handler over there says we’ve got thirty-five minutes for chitchat so what should we talk about?”
Hunter Stone pulls the chair out and sits gracefully, but in a manly way. There is no lack of confidence in this guy. Why would there be? With dark, ink-black hair and stunning green eyes, he’s absolutely irresistible. In the business-sense, of course.
What is not at all business related is whatever cologne he’s wearing.
Dear Lord, do not let me pass out from how delicious he smells.
But of course before I can pull myself together, he turns and looks right at me. “Celeste, right?”
I know my eyes widen because he laughs at my reaction. Laughs! If I wasn’t trying to make a good impression I might smack him, but I’m too flattered he remembers my name.
“Um, yes. I can’t believe you remember.”
“It’s not everyday someone remembers my very first performance on a New York stage.”
“That was your first role? That’s… incredible. I knew you were talented but to come out of the gate with a performance like that. Well, it’s no wonder Hollywood snatched you up.”
For just the briefest of seconds, his expression darkens, like he’s having memories he doesn’t particularly care for. But it’s gone just as quickly as it came, and he barely misses a beat in the conversation. “Do you live here in the city?”
I shake my head. “I used some miles to get here. I live in New York. Brooklyn, actually. Close enough to get to any theater in the city in a reasonable amount of time, but far enough from Manhattan I don’t go homeless.”
His head cocks to the side. I can almost see that he has a million questions running through his mind. Or maybe I just have a million running through mine.
“So you really are a theater buff.”
“Stage manager, actually. I haven’t done Broadway yet, but I’m up for a second assistant stage manager in a huge production that starts this summer. I haven’t heard back yet, but fingers crossed.” Like an idiot, I cross my fingers. “And I run a blog with my best friend, Carrie. She has a pet squirrel which is a story for a different day, but yeah. I cover theater and movies on the blog. Lots of critiques. Of course I always recommend your stuff. It’s always so good…”
My words taper off as I realize I’m not only babbling; I’m taking up time that needs to be spent with eight other people.
“So, um, yeah. That’s it for me.”
Hunter Stone nods. I really need to stop using his full name. I don’t even know another Hunter. But, it just rolls off my tongue so easily. “Thank you for that, Celeste. I love meeting fellow theater nerds.”
My breath hitches at the word love. Not because he loves me. Because that would be stupid. He doesn’t love me. I mean, he probably does in that he’s-a-human-I’m-a-human kind of way, but not love, love. Oh boy. I’m losing it.
For the next half hour, I sit quietly as Hunter Stone makes sure to