The Seat Filler - Sariah Wilson Page 0,78

be hard to choose. I’ve been reading Sam Shepard’s plays lately. I enjoy them because he wrote from the perspective of someone who was an actor, too. But if you spent all that time in theaters, you must have a favorite playwright.”

“I am a fan of musicals, to my mother’s eternal dismay. Do I lose cool points if I say Rodgers and Hammerstein?”

“Yes, you lose all the cool points. But that’s okay. I’ll still let you kiss me.”

I slapped him lightly on the forearm, and he laughed.

Someone walked up behind us, and I turned, half expecting that we were about to be interrupted by one of his fans.

It was my mother. I hugged her and congratulated her and then said, “Mom, this is Noah Douglas.”

They said hello and shook hands. Then my mother asked, “And what is it you do, Noah?”

He couldn’t suppress his amused smile. “I’m an actor, as well.”

“Good for you,” my mom said. “It’s a hard profession!”

“It is,” he agreed, very good natured about the whole thing.

“Did you study it in college?” she asked.

“I didn’t get the chance to attend college.”

“It’s never too late to go back. You could have a show just like this one.”

“That would be . . . something,” he said, and I felt like I needed to intervene before this got too far off the rails. I wondered if I should tell her that he was a professional, but given how much Noah seemed to be enjoying the anonymity, I decided against it.

“You seem familiar to me,” my mom said thoughtfully. “Like we’ve met before.”

“I get that a lot.” Which was probably because people weren’t expecting to meet a movie star in real life and it took their brain a minute to catch up with where they recognized him from. Because he definitely didn’t just have “one of those faces.” He was much more unique than that.

His phone buzzed, and he took it out of his pocket to look at it. “My car is here. I’m sorry to do this, but I’ve got to get going. It was nice to meet you!” He waved to my mother and then leaned in to kiss me quickly on the cheek.

“Wait.” I grabbed at his arm, confused. “I thought we were going to hang out tonight.”

“I have plans. But I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Then he was gone, and I was left feeling bereft. This was not at all how I’d hoped this evening would go.

And what kind of plans did he have? My heart lurched as I considered that he might be seeing someone else. That maybe that’s why he didn’t call me while he was in New York. Because he was out on dates with women who would actually kiss him. Who would more than kiss him.

For the first time in my life, I understood the phrase green with envy. Because I felt sick with jealousy at the idea of him being out with other women. Which was totally irrational, because I was the one who set up our situation. I was the one who had said friends only. If he was seeing other women, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Is that your boyfriend?” my mom asked.

“We’re just friends. We’re not dating.”

She raised one eyebrow like she didn’t believe me. “How old is he?”

Given that I was currently embroiled in my own jealousy spiral, and while I adored my mother, getting into this weird hang-up of hers was going to make me roll my eyes so hard that my ocular muscle would spasm and make me go blind. Even if I was the last person who should be judging anyone’s weird hang-ups. “He’s twenty-seven. Not fifty-seven. He’s only three years older than me. We’re basically the same age.”

She must have heard how unwilling I was to have this discussion with her, because she immediately backed off and then proceeded into territory that made me want to roll my eyes even harder. “He’s not very conventionally handsome, is he? I can’t really see him ever getting a leading man part.”

“Okay, I’m making an appointment for you with your eye doctor, and we’re getting your vision checked. I know opinions are subjective, but yours is wrong.” Maybe it was because she’d never seen him act. The intensity, the sheer talent, the vulnerability he conveyed, the way he made every character into a real person who deserved to find love and their happy ending.

I shouldn’t have been surprised at her reaction—my mom had always looked to find the bad

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