He walks to his room and closes the door.
I want so badly to run to him, to tell him that the kiss did mean something. That it felt more real than anything with any man has felt in my life. But I hold back.
It’s the right thing to do.
It’s what Rosa Ramirez would do.
Ten
In the morning,I stay in my room while Max carries his things out to his truck. I don’t want to stay away from him, but it’s the smart thing to do. Getting over this silly crush is simple—I just have to rip him off quickly, like a Band-Aid. Once he’s gone, I can do my interview, then move on with my life. I’ll find my writing mojo back tomorrow. I just know I will.
At least, I hope I will.
The rumbly truck engine sound in the driveway means he’s already left. I thought he might try to tell me goodbye but then again… I didn’t tell him goodbye so I don’t know what I expect.
I’ve been getting ready for my TV interview all morning. The producers told my agent that they’d have someone on site to do my hair and makeup, but I needed to be fresh-faced and have clean hair. And, the worst part of all, I need to dress myself. Sure, I’ve been dressing myself since I was a toddler, but there’s something much different about getting dressed today. I never know what kind of impression I want to make. What kind of author I want to be.
In reality, I live in yoga leggings and baggy T-shirts. In the professional world? Do I wear slacks and a nice shirt? A formal dress? A causal dress?
I’ve been up since five in the morning trying to figure it out, but eventually I settle on a nice pair of black jeans and a silver shimmery top. Now that Max’s truck has left, I emerge from my room to make some coffee.
Only Max’s truck hasn’t left.
He’s standing here with a backpack slung over his shoulder, looking just as surprised to see me as I am to see him.
“I thought you left?” I blurt out like some kind of weirdo.
“I was about to, but someone’s here.” He peers out the front window. I rush over to look and my arm brushes against his. We’re only touching for the teensiest of seconds, but it makes my whole body light up.
“They’re here?” I shriek. I’m probably as pale as a ghost right now. I check my watch. “They’re not supposed to be here for two more hours!”
He shrugs. “They’re blocking me in. I’ll ask them to move.”
The TV crew arrived in a big box van thing. My driveway isn’t very big, and Max’s truck is parked behind my Jeep. Behind him, is the big van. I walk out onto the porch, watching him wave at the guy in cargo shorts and a black Clark TV shirt.
“Hey man, I’m sorry but you’re blocking me in and I’m about to leave.”
“Oh,” the guy says. “Sorry about that.”
“Wait!”
A slender woman with long black hair walks around from the back of the van. She’s wearing a Bluetooth earpiece and has a MacBook tucked under her arm. She smiles demurely at Max. “Who are you, handsome?”
Max clears his throat. “I’m no one.”
The woman looks beyond him, her eyes landing on mine. She bursts into a smile and I recognize her as Tomi, the TV producer for the show. Her photo is in her email signature. Looks like the host of the show, Zoey, isn’t here right now. She probably won’t arrive until filming begins in a few hours.
“Julie Baskins!” she says with a big grin. “Come here, babe. Let me get a look at you.”
I walk down the porch out into the driveway, feeling naked with no makeup on.
Tomi shakes my hand, clasping it in both of her hands as she tells me hello. She smells like cigarettes and fruity perfume. While still holding my hand, she leans in close. “Who is this handsome hunk of man meat?”
“No one,” I say, repeating Max’s earlier words. “He’s just leaving.”
Max nods. “Yeah, so if you could move your van, I’ll be on my way.”
Tomi stares at him, and then at me. “So it’s true,” she says. Her voice takes a sudden sinister tone which sends a chill down my back.
