Page 12 of From LA to London, With Love

Chris’s eyes lit up slightly. “Oh yeah? And how did you do that?”

I paused, thinking. “So, putting what I learnt in reverse, some of my key tips are—don’t be stoopid, be stewpid, make sure you put the arh in arse, rather than ass, and make sure you drink lots of worter, rather than waadder. But I’m probably not the best person to be giving you advice. Even after five years living there, I often had to rely on my friends or my ex, who was American, to translate for me.”

His face dropped. “Oh god, five years? That’s not what I want to hear!”

“But I’m not a professional actor,” I responded hastily, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m sure you’ll catch on much faster. I may have a good sense of smell, but my ear for accents is very weak. Do you like acting?”

We passed a young couple with a pram, who both looked at Chris and then at each other, whispering with excitement. Had people been doing that the entire walk, and I’d been completely oblivious to it? God, I could be hopeless sometimes.

“I love the acting part of being an actor. Immersing myself in a character, trying to understand their perspective, and seeing the world through their eyes.” His eyes, which had been sparkling, dulled slightly as he continued. “I’m not so keen on the by-products. The paparazzi, the speculation over my personal life, constantly being recognized.” Chris gestured back at the couple. He must have noticed their reaction as well. “And it’s been worse since those photos were published. Now, when I see that familiar jolt of recognition cross people’s faces, I don’t know if they’re thinking, ‘Oh cool, that’s Chris Trent, Muscle Man!’ or ‘That’s the dude who Vanessa Milan cheated on and whose dick is plastered all over the internet.’”

My eyes widened. Shit, the photos were very revealing then.

“But I shouldn’t complain. I know I’m very lucky that I can do this for a living.”

“That must be really tough. I can’t imagine being recognized all the time by strangers.” It reminded me of the times men I didn’t know stared at me, unashamedly checking me out, their stares sometimes accompanied by wolf whistles or unwelcome comments about my body.

“Yeah, on balance, it’s usually worth it, although the last few months have made me question everything.” He turned to me. “So, what do you do for work? I avoided asking you in case it prompted you to ask me the same question. It was kinda nice to spend time with someone who didn’t have a clue who I was!”

We crossed the road, leaving the Heath behind us, and started to walk down the pavement toward the Castle.

I laughed. “I intentionally avoided asking you as well. I’d got it into my head you either had a really boring investment banking job or were a trust fund baby. Not that you’re boring or come across as an entitled brat!” I said hurriedly, wishing I hadn’t mentioned my working hypothesis about his employment, or lack of. “Well, at the moment, I’m on maternity leave, but I head up the diversity and inclusion team at a big law firm here. We do a lot of different things, but in a nutshell, my team is trying to encourage diversity in an environment traditionally dominated by privileged old white guys. For example, developing policies to encourage diverse hiring and trying to improve the culture so that our diverse staff feel safe and included and don’t leave—which isn’t as easy as it sounds, unfortunately.”

Chris looked at me with genuine interest. “That sounds fascinating but also pretty challenging. Do you enjoy it?”

“It can be very rewarding, although sometimes it feels like I’m fighting an uphill battle. There are a lot of men who don’t know how to respond to a brown woman telling them that their policies and hiring practices are sexist, racist, and transphobic. Just before I went on maternity leave, I got all the law firm partners to do unconscious bias tests, and the results horrified them, so I'm hoping that will spring them into action. But while I’ve been off work, I’ve been talking with my friends, Rose and Mia, who have similar jobs, about setting up a diversity, equity, and inclusion consulting firm. It might give me a bit more flexibility with Elliot, and it would also be nice to have some more…diverse work.” I smiled at him. “So, you know, instead of just trying to change old white men in law firms, I could also try to change old white men in accounting firms or banks.”

I was really excited about our business plans. While I wasn’t under any illusion that starting a new business would be easy, with Rose and Mia onboard I was confident we could make it work. This conversation reminded me that I needed to finish researching potential clients and email Rose and Mia my thoughts. Before we quit our jobs to go out on our own, we wanted to make sure there was actually a market for our services.

Chris laughed. “Setting up a consulting firm sounds like a great idea. The film industry could definitely use your services as well. There are a lot of old white men in the studios.”

I rolled my eyes. “Unfortunately, they’re everywhere! No offense.” I grinned at him.

“Hey! Are you calling me old?” Chris asked in mock outrage.

“Well, you will be one day,” I replied, smiling. I suspected he was around my age—mid-thirties—not exactly elderly.

We reached Chris’s front gate. I was surprised how much I’d enjoyed the walk—apart from Cynthia’s guest appearance, of course. Chris wasn’t how I imagined a celebrity would be. He didn’t come across as narcissistic or out of touch with reality. He just seemed like a warm, funny guy. Despite all that, I couldn’t help feeling skeptical that I could have much in common with this rich, handsome man, whose world was so different from mine, or that he’d want to spend time with a single mum who lived with her parents.

But in my day job, I was always trying to get people to look beyond race, gender, sexual preference, and class, to stop stereotyping and to be open-minded and tolerant. Shouldn’t I practice what I preach? Sure, he wasn’t the sort of person I’d usually hang out with. But that shouldn’t stop me exploring this potential friendship. And he’d said he was glad he’d met me, so why was I second-guessing myself?

Feeling down about my social life after the mothers’ group yesterday, I’d unsuccessfully searched for activities Elliot and I could do to meet other babies and parents, so I wasn’t exactly overwhelmed with options right now. I’d signed me and Josh up to volunteer at a local LGBTQ+ youth center on Wednesday nights, but that was unlikely to be a good source of friends around my, or Elliot’s, age.

Fuck it, I might as well see if he wants to hang out again. It’s not like I have much to lose.

I swallowed, suddenly nervous. “This has been really nice. I’m glad you were there to distract Cynthia, even if she blew your cover. If you’d like to hang out again, let me know. Elliot and I don’t have a lot going on at the moment, especially now that I’ve cancelled mothers’ group.”

Chris gave me another one of those smiles and my heart fluttered. “That sounds great. How about another walk Thursday afternoon?”

Surprised he seemed so keen and wanted to meet up again so soon, I smiled back. I’d been half expecting he’d say something non-committal and never see him again.

“Perfect. We can meet you here at four p.m., if that works for you? And if you need to contact me in the meantime, my personal number is on my business card.” I opened my phone case and handed him one of the cards I kept there. Heat crept up my face. Was I being too forward? Would he think I was coming on to him now I knew he was famous?

It’s too late now, you turkey.

Unlikely friendship or not, I was already looking forward to Thursday afternoon way more than any mothers’ group meeting.

CHAPTER SIX