“Yup.” Leaning back in his seat, he dug out his cell from his jeans pocket and handed it to her. “Why don’t we do a test run in Malibu?”
His phone had more features than hers, and she took a few minutes to learn the various options as they passed Pacific Palisades. By the time they neared Malibu and veered inland, she thought she could at least shoot a basic video. Probably.
She turned toward him as far as she could and propped her elbow on the dashboard to steady her camera hand. “Ready for your test run?”
The traffic had turned heavy, and he took advantage of a temporary stop to check himself out in the rearview mirror. As she could have told him, he didn’t need any adjustment. He was already the epitome of casual, sun-kissed stardom, his dishevelment only adding to his appeal.
“All right.” He let off the brake for a few feet, then had to stop again. “Let’s do this, Wren. Three, two, one, and … action.”
She tapped the red circle on the screen and kept the camera focused on his profile in the driver’s seat.
“Hi, everyone. I’m Alex Woodroe”—he shot a brief grin in her direction and winked at his audience—“the beloved and exceedingly attractive star ofGods of the Gatesand various films, some more low-budget than others. I’m driving up the Pacific Coast Highway on a multiday road trip, and I thought you might like to hear about where I am and where I’m going.”
Doing her best to keep the phone still, she nodded encouragingly.
He waved a hand, indicating their surroundings. “Right now, we’re in Malibu, where L.A.’s rich and famous come to hunt the Sasquatch of Youth.”
At that, she choked on thin air, and tried to cough-laugh as silently as possible.
He frowned. “You okay?”
When she waved him on, he added confidingly, “As everyone in Hollywood knows, if you catch the Sasquatch of Youth, it’ll grant you an extra decade of casting viability in exchange for its freedom. For that reason, sasquatch-hunting is the main local industry in Malibu. The city should really advertise it more.”
If this was a test run, she could respond without ruining anything, right?
With her free hand, she groped for her water bottle and took yet another huge gulp. “Alex, are you entirely sure these are the sorts of travel insights you want to share?”
“It’s the only explanation for Carah Brown, Wren.” When the car came to another stop, he turned to look directly into the camera. “Did you know that Carah is ninety-three years old?”
When Lauren laughed out loud, so did Alex, and she couldn’t resist engaging with his nonsense. “Maybe she has aVanity Faircover portrait that’s aging for her?”
“Solid literary allusion. Nicely done.” When he reached out for a high five, still grinning, she gave it to him. “Anyway, Carah’s ancient, and the Sasquatch of Youth lives here. That’s really all you need to know about Malibu.”
He held up a finger, as if he were a scholar making one final, crucial point. “Oh, and some people in Malibu try to keep their beaches private and only accessible to the super-rich, which is total bullshit. But I suppose they need seclusion for sasquatch-hunting purposes.”
Oh, holy crackers.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed your scintillating view of me and Malibu’s delightful stop-and-go traffic.” He flashed another bone-melting smile in the camera’s direction. “Thanks for watching, and remember to get out there, have fun, and don’t let Carah Brown fool you. She’s pretty, but she’s also old as fuck and mean as hell. Can’t say I didn’t warn you, people.”
Still shaking with suppressed laughter, she tapped the screen to stop filming.
“How’d we do?” When the traffic began to move faster, he returned his full attention to the road. “Never mind, I was obviously brilliant, so let me rephrase: How didyoudo?”
When she played back the video, he remained in focus the entire time, and everything he’d said was clearly audible. Unfortunately, so was everything she’d said, and his theoretical audience could see her arm as he high-fived her.
Dammit, if she’d simply kept out of the conversation and camera view, they could have used that clip, because he’d been … himself. Entirely himself. Funny, sharp-edged, intelligent, and ridiculous. Irascible and irresistible, as he’d said earlier.
“I’m sorry.” She sighed, placing his phone in the center console. “If I hadn’t butted in, that video would have been perfect for uploading.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Do you have any objections to being in the video?”
She hadn’t said anything embarrassing, and it wasn’t as if she’d paraded herself in front of the camera. So after a moment of consideration, she shrugged too. “No. Not really. But as you once told me, you’re the one the audience wants to look at and listen to. Not some random woman.”
“I don’t care about them, Wren.Iwant to look at you.Iwant to listen to you.” Before she could do more than blink at him in befuddled pleasure, he added, “But are you sure you won’t mind the public visibility? I don’t anticipate a huge audience, but what I said at the con is still a big deal in some circles. There’s a possibility the clips could get some traction.”
“If so, I’ll just stay offline for a few days again.” Carefully, she smoothed a finger over the folded pleats inside the door and avoided looking at him. “You really want me in the video?”
“Videos. Plural. If you’re willing.” He reached over and hesitated. “May I touch you?”
