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Chapter 10
Our week in Kauai passed far too quickly, and each day was perfection. We spent the majority of our time talking, reading, or fucking, and we cooked every meal together. On sunny days we walked on the beach or explored the area, and when it rained we curled up together on the lanai (which turned out to be the Hawaiian name for that covered porch). We also recorded and uploaded three more videos, and we finally read through the stack of scripts. Harper decided on his next project, but that was as close as we came to acknowledging the outside world.
It was total bliss, and I was amazed at how well we got along. In this environment, free of stress and outside influence, Harper and I fit together like two halves of a whole.
It would have been nice to stay another week, or month, or the rest of the year, but we couldn’t avoid reality forever. Harper had a long string of public appearances coming up to promote a movie he’d filmed last year, which was about to hit the theaters. That meant we had to fly back to L.A. as planned, and he was about to get very busy.
Our last evening in Hawaii was spent tangled up together and making out in the hammock. Loco was sitting nearby, trying to hatch a shell we’d brought up from the beach. All of a sudden, she let out a startled squawk and flapped her wings as she leapt up. A hermit crab had popped out of the shell. It skittered sideways and fell off the deck, disappearing into the landscaping while Loco darted into the house.
We both started laughing, and Harper said, “That poor chicken. She must think she just gave birth to an alien.”
We got up and tried to coax her back outside, but she hid under the couch and ignored us. Finally, we returned to the lanai and settled back into the hammock. After a while, I found myself asking, “What’s going to happen when we leave here, Harper?”
“What do you mean?”
The real question was how I was going to fit into his life when he jumped back into the fast lane, but I knew he wouldn’t have an answer for that. So instead, I asked, “Am I going to keep working as your assistant now that we’re dating?”
“We’re not just dating, Phee, we’re a couple. And we’ll need to hire a new assistant, because you really won’t want to keep working for me.”
“Maybe I do, though,” I said. “I like keeping you organized, and I don’t know if I’d trust anyone else to do the job.”
“But you’re about to move on to much better things. Have you taken a look at the number of views and the comments on the videos we’ve uploaded?”
“No. We agreed to ignore that stuff until we got back to L.A.”
“Well, I’ve been taking occasional peeks because I was curious, and the response has been phenomenal. You’re a hit, Phee.”
I let that sink in for a few moments before asking, “Do they really like my music?”
“They love it. You’re going to have some big decisions to make in the very near future, because it’s just a matter of time before the record labels come knocking.”
I wanted to believe that, but it was hard to be optimistic after all those years of getting absolutely nowhere.
The next afternoon was spent packing, getting ourselves to the airport, and smuggling the chicken back onboard the private jet, this time with me as an accomplice. It went off without a hitch.
We both stayed in the bedroom during the flight, so we could keep an eye on Loco. While the chicken nested in the center of the bed, Harper and I sat in a pair of swiveling club chairs, and he flipped through the script he’d decided on. After a while, he asked, “Am I making the right choice with this next movie?”
I looked up from his calendar on my laptop and said, “It’s what your agent recommended, a big-budget action movie. Not for nothing, but it also comes with a nice paycheck.”
“True, but do we really need another movie about some random alpha bro-dude saving the world?”
“Well, the movie’s being made whether or not you decide to star in it,” I said, “but it sounds like you’re having second thoughts.”
“It just doesn’t feel like there’s anything of substance here.”
“Is there another script you’re considering?”
“No. They’re all variations on a theme.” Harper set aside the script, then came over and sat on the floor beside me. He rested his head against my thigh, and as I stroked his hair, he said, “Am I acting like a spoiled brat? I feel like I’m being really ungrateful, because I know most actors would kill for these roles.”
“Not at all. You’re just trying to find a project that excites you, and that you feel has value. It’s perfectly understandable.”
