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“Nope.”
“Then why are you staring at me?”
He rested his chin on his folded hands. “Because you’re so pretty.”
With a laugh, Mickie rolled her eyes. God, she’d missed him and the lightness he brought to her days. “Get serious.”
“You’re happy here,” he said, tone taking on a serious note. “I mean, barring yesterday’s drama, you’re happy here in this itty-bitty town away from the glitz, glam, and spotlight.”
She took a sip of her lukewarm coffee then set the ceramic cup down. “I am. Surprised me too.”
Silence fell as they watched each other across the table. Only Ralph knew what her time in the hospital then rehab had been like. How much she’d struggled, torn her psyche apart, then worked to build herself back up again. How hard she’d worked to learn to love herself, forgive herself, and how deeply she wanted to begin a fresh chapter of her life. Reporters, influencers, friends, and coworkers spent the first few months of her disappearance from the media speculating on when she’d make her grand return to cinema. The answer was never, but all assumed someone like Scarlett could only go so long without the attention her narcissism demanded.
But Ralph knew better. He knew what lay beneath the exterior.
“It suits you. You look healthy, and there’s a peace about you that I’ve never seen.” His grin grew, and he extended a hand to her. “I like it. I’m happy for you.”
She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.” The words nearly stuck in her thickened throat. She cleared it, then said, “Now if only I could decide what to do with the rest of my days” — and Keith— “it’d be perfect.”
Their waitress arrived and deposited Ralph’s pancakes and her eggs Benedict. The diner may look like a throwback to another era, but the food was fresh, piping hot, and smelled heavenly. Never would she have ordered something like this back in LA. It was all egg whites and avocado toast, but damn, eating real food was perk enough to keep her from returning to Hollywood.
“Thank you,” Ralph said, flashing a grin to the older waitress with a giant pouf of white hair. “You are my new favorite person.”
She laughed and swatted his shoulder with her menu pad. “You two kids enjoy. I’ll check back in a bit.”
“Thank you,” Mickie added.
“You are aware you don’t have to work, right?” Ralph said with the fork poised at his lips. He took a bite then rolled his eyes upward. “Oh. My. God. I think I just came.”
Mickie laughed loud, drawing curious stares from the other customers. “God, I missed you,” she said in a much more indoor-appropriate tone. “What am I supposed to do if I don’t work? Sit around my house eating Bonbons all day? I’m already starting to feel tired of my own company. I need purpose. I need something that excites me.”
“I bet Keith excites you,” he said with a wink.
She groaned. “Ugh, can we not talk about him right now? I’m compartmentalizing until later.”
His lined eyes narrowed. “Fine.” He pointed his fork at her. “I’ll give you until tonight, but that’s it. Then we’re gonna eat ice cream, do face masks, and you’re gonna spill the dirty details.”
All she’d told him when they’d spoken the previous night was that she’d confessed who she was to Keith, and he’d left in a lingering cloud of shock and disgust.
“Yes, sir,” she said, saluting with her fork.
Despite everything that happened over the past day, Michaela found herself smiling. It had been a false alarm. No one knew where she’d disappeared to. Sure, speculation on her whereabouts resumed with a renewed vigor, but not a single person aside from Ralph knew. Not her agent, publicist, business manager. No one. And Ralph would take the information to his grave.
She could push forward and move on because all in all, life hadn’t been disrupted by some random fan’s false sighting of her.
Except for the collapse of her quasi-relationship. And she didn’t have a clue how to begin repairing that destruction.
Once they’d finished their meal, Micki and Ralph walked arm in arm through the parking lot toward her car.
“Damn,” Ralph said with a dramatic shiver. “It’s not even winter yet and it’s cold as a polar bear’s balls out here. How do you stand it?”
With a chuckle, Mickie staid, “I love it, actu—” She stopped short at the sight of Chuck resting against her car with her arms folded across his chest. He wore loose fitting jeans, work boots, and a fleece jacket. A Patriots cap topped off the ensemble. It was the gleam in his eye that had her stomach flip-flopping.
“What’s a wrong?” Ralph asked as he followed her gaze. “Oh, who’s that?”
“A huge jerk,” Mickie grumbled.
“Need me to bitch him out for you?” Ralph asked. “I’ve been itching to since I haven’t gotten a chance to take a run at Keith yet.”
