up from his calendar on my laptop and said, “It’s what your agent recommended, a big-budget action movie. Not for nothing, but it also comes with a nice paycheck.”
“True, but do we really need another movie about some random alpha bro-dude saving the world?”
“Well, the movie’s being made whether or not you decide to star in it,” I said, “but it sounds like you’re having second thoughts.”
“It just doesn’t feel like there’s anything of substance here.”
“Is there another script you’re considering?”
“No. They’re all variations on a theme.” Harper set aside the script, then came over and sat on the floor beside me. He rested his head against my thigh, and as I stroked his hair, he said, “Am I acting like a spoiled brat? I feel like I’m being really ungrateful, because I know most actors would kill for these roles.”
“Not at all. You’re just trying to find a project that excites you, and that you feel has value. It’s perfectly understandable.”
He asked, “Is it too early for a midlife crisis? Because that’s what this feels like.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure twenty-nine is way too early.”
“I’m not twenty-nine for another week and a half. Don’t prematurely age me.”
I grinned at that and said, “That reminds me, what do you want for your birthday?” In other words, what was I supposed to get the man who literally had everything?
“You. Naked. On my bed.”
“How about something that would actually fit in a box?”
“Okay, you naked on my bed with cake.” He tilted his head back and smiled at me. “Cake comes in boxes.”
“I’ll make sure there’s cake. I have no idea what to get you as a gift, though.”
“I have enough stuff, Phee. Seriously. And you don’t have to make a big deal out of my birthday. I’ll be working through most of it anyway, since it’s the same day as the U.S. premiere.”
“You have back-to-back interviews that day too,” I said, “ahead of the red carpet that evening.”
“I know. How does the rest of my schedule look over the next couple of weeks?”
“It’s absolutely jam-packed, just like every time a new movie hits the theater. You’re doing the usual talk show and press circuit several days before and after the premiere, which kicks in starting tomorrow. That’s immediately followed by the European premiere, when you get to do it all over again.”
He sighed, and after a moment, he asked, “Do you own a tuxedo?”
“Sure, because my clients occasionally need my assistance at black tie events. Why do you ask?”
Harper looked amused. “What do you think? I want you to be my date for the red carpet.”
“Oh.”
“I thought you’d be excited.”
“I’m just having a hard time imagining myself at an event like that.”
“If you don’t want to go, I’ll understand,” he said.
“No, I want to.” Okay, not really, but how could I say no? “It’s pretty far outside my comfort zone, but hey, there’s a first time for everything, right?” That was definitely going to suck.
Eventually, we landed in L.A. and successfully smuggled the chicken out of the airport. That never would have worked on a commercial flight, but a private charter was another thing entirely.
As Harper drove us across town, the chicken stood on my thigh and looked out the passenger window, dressed in the little doll-size Hawaiian shirt we’d bought her. After a while, Harper glanced at me and asked, “Will you come home with me and spend the night?”
“Love to.”
“How about tomorrow night, and the one after that?”
I turned to study his profile. It was after dark and we were on the freeway creeping along in traffic, so he was lit by the brake lights of the car in front of us. “What are you saying?”
We rolled forward a few feet, then came to a stop. “Just, you know, that maybe you should move all your stuff to my house and sleep there. A lot.”
I chuckled and told him, “That’s the most wishy-washy proposition I’ve ever heard.”
“I know. But if I asked you to move in with me, wouldn’t you tell me it was too soon?”
“Yeah, I probably would.”
“Exactly,” he said. “So, let’s not call it that and give you an opportunity to shoot me down. We’ll just call it an extended slumber party.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m in.”
Harper smiled at me, and I rested my hand on his thigh as we continued our slow progress down the freeway. Then he asked, “Should we stop off at your apartment, so you can pick up whatever you need?”
“Nah. I can just wash the