The Swan and The Sergeant - Alana Albertson Page 0,24
a camera in the back of this truck recording our every word. In five weeks, nineteen million people would be watching Selena and I bicker in my truck.
Three hours later, we finally arrived in Marin. It was in the afternoon, and we had to meet our celebrities at five. I exited on Tiburon Boulevard and headed to the Tiburon Lodge, where we were set to meet our hair and makeup staff.
Driving down the winding road, I took in the beauty of the San Francisco Bay. I loved it here—the green grass and walking trails of Blackie’s Pasture, the view of the towering Golden Gate Bridge. At least I would be spending a few months in this paradise, and since I had used all of my vacation time for the show, I figured I’d better enjoy it. Ray was right—this definitely beat dodging land mines in Iraq.
We pulled up to the hotel, and I parked in the lot. I didn’t want a valet to touch my truck.
“Sel, we have two hours before we have to meet production. I’m gonna take Banjo on a walk through Blackie’s Pasture before I have to drop him at my dad’s houseboat.” I looked up, and her eyes seemed hopeful. I really wanted to be alone, but I didn’t want to strand Selena. “Do you want to come with us or stay here?”
Her face brightened. “I’d love to take a walk. I’ll just change into my running shoes.”
She walked around to the bed of the truck, and I pulled her luggage down. I grabbed a tennis ball, some treats, and doggie bags.
She rummaged through her bag, found her shoes, and tossed her flip-flops back in. I placed her bag in the backseat of the truck. “Let’s go.”
We crossed the street and walked toward the path. I loved the salty smell of the bay. I really needed this break from the Marine Corps, even if I was still working.
“It’s so nice,” Selena said. “In Los Angeles, there’s so much smog, and it’s never clear. I miss it here. Do you ever want to move back?”
“It’s beautiful, but I’ll never be able to afford it. And it’s too liberal for my taste. Anyway, there are more jobs for former military down in San Diego. You?”
Selena sighed. “I’d love to, but Dima and I own a studio in LA. But I think Marin would be a great place to settle down and raise kids.”
We came across the off-leash dog park. I released Banjo, who scampered with a Goldendoodle and a Sheltie.
“When’s that going to happen? Settling down, I mean. Are you dating anyone?”
She turned away from me and looked across the bay. “No. I have no time with the show and competing.” Her voice dropped. “And I don’t ever meet anyone who understands my lifestyle.”
I knew it wasn’t my place to say anything, but I couldn’t resist. “It’s your life. Do whatever makes you happy. But a title from Blackpool isn’t going to keep you warm at night or take care of you when you’re sick.”
Selena was still turned away from me, and I couldn’t see her face. I knew I had upset her. She’d been back in my life for two days, and that picture-perfect world of hers started to look chipped and cracked the closer I got to it.
“I need to get back to the hotel to get ready,” she said, her voice meek. “I’ll just start walking back. You and Banjo enjoy the view.”
“You sure? I can walk you back.” I knew I’d struck a chord.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I might take a nap before hair and makeup. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in front of your hotel at four forty-five.”
She waved as if to acknowledge me but spoke no words as she walked away.
I threw the tennis ball, and Banjo ran to retrieve it. I didn’t feel sorry for Selena; she’d chosen her life just as I’d chosen mine. When we were younger, I had always imagined we would have a life together—kids, dogs, a house, the whole picture. But neither of our lives had worked out that way.
Banjo brought the ball back to me and dropped the chewed-up toy on my feet. After twenty minutes of playing, I headed back to my truck and drove to my father’s houseboat.
I was glad to finally be alone. I stepped onto the rickety wood of the dock and walked down the row of houseboats. Each one was unique: one had a Chinese awning; another had brightly