The Accidental TV Star (15 page)

Garrett brushed me off. “She was nicer than normal. I think it was the food. We’ll serve more courses next time. Maybe a meat tray too. Deli cuts. More dips.”

He saw me eyeing the dishes and pulled the cream cheese vegetable dip forward. “This one’s the best.” He tapped the honey swirl dip next. “This one second. Now about the veggies.” He bit into another carrot. “The radish roses look the best but the carrots are the sweetest.”

“I’m worried about what you said.” I worked my jaw, trying to think how to say what I wanted to express. “I don’t want to be the cause of your career taking a dive.” In my family, we knew what career dives looked like and they were hard to crawl back from.

“I think you should go out with me.”

“What?”

Garrett finished the carrot and drank some of his lemonade. “I like you, Marissa. I want you to go out with me.”

“We’re talking about your career here.”

Garrett put the glass down and wiped his hands on a napkin. All his moves were slow and deliberate. He put his arm under my knees and pulled my legs across his lap. He leaned in and kissed me.

The move was a surprise. He tasted like lemonade and persuasion. I fell back to the couch. He slid one hand under my head and kissed me in a deep, drugging kiss and rose up to meet my gaze. His green eyes searched mine. “I want you to go out with me.”

I loved his voice. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed until he sat up. I followed him and straddled his lap. He put his hands on my waist. I closed my eyes. My hands tight on his shoulders, I flexed my fingers. “Garrett. I work for you.” I wound my arms around his neck and leaned toward his ear. “I live with you.”

He threaded his hands through the back of my hair. The pull felt amazing. “I know.”

“I’d say if you’re still interested in September, when my job ends, ask me then; but I’ll be in Texas and you’ll be here.”

“All the more reason for you to go out with me now.”

Not my dream response. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

He lightly scratched at my scalp with his nails and said nothing.

I shivered. My mind raced at the possibilities and warring desires tugged at me: sensible responsibility versus holy hotness. I was leaning toward
big mistake
when my phone’s breakup ringtone sounded. Evan.

“Ignore that,” Garrett said.

To avoid giving Garrett the wrong answer, I shook my head, rolled off his lap and clicked
accept
. “Hello?”

“Marissa, finally.” Evan’s familiar Texas drawl shook me, bringing on a rush of homesickness over my confusion.

I went through the sliding glass doors and took a seat by the pool. I stared out at the lights of Hollywood. “Hi.”

“I saw your
Scoop Out
debut. I can’t believe you made that happen. Kick ass.”

“Yeah, it’s been kind of crazy.” I touched the cool water with my fingertips.

“It’s crazy here too. Not TV star crazy, but classes, mountains. It rocks.”

I didn’t say anything, but I curled my feet up and wrapped my free arm around my knees, listening to his familiar voice.

“I’m going to come out and say it. I want you back.”

Guessed that from the multiple text messages. “Why?”

“I miss you, Marissa, and I, well, I was wrong.”

“Wrong to break up with me as soon as we graduated?” Some of my indignation came out in my voice as I found my backbone. “The long distance issue still applies.”

“That’s not why I broke up with you.”

My hand tightened. “I was there, Evan.”

“It’s not. It’s the excuse I gave you. I was headed to college and going places.”

“I’m headed to college too. This is a summer job and a fluke landed me on that show.”

“People plan for college, but life gets in the way. I thought you’d stay at the Fry Hut, make Head Chef, lose your dreams.”

I wanted to take the phone away and stare at it. What was he talking about? I wished he was here in person so I could read his brown eyes and see his expression. “When have I ever said I’d stay at the Fry Hut forever?” The thought alone gave me a chill. I wouldn’t have stayed one day longer than planned. Of course, I’d planned on staying longer than I did, but not forever.

“The way you talk about your family. You know how people like that are. Generations repeat the cycle. I talked to my parents about it and they said you’d turn out like your people.”

My people?

“It didn’t matter so much in high school. All the times we broke up, it was in my mind. I had to let you go before I couldn’t. At graduation, I jumped on the excuse.”

People like that? Did he mean poor? “My family hasn’t changed.” My bewilderment at this news kept me from becoming angry. “You didn’t dump me because I wouldn’t sleep with you. You dumped me because you didn’t believe I was going anywhere.”

“Don’t be pissed. I’m being honest here. It’s hard enough in life to make it, and carrying a whole family would have sunk us. We could have slept together, and then I could have dumped you, but I didn’t do that. You don’t know how difficult graduation night was for me.”

Poor Evan. I was pissed. He’d pushed a button I didn’t know I had. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to smash Evan with a scathing reply, but I hit the
end call
button instead. Finding my legs, I went back in and headed for the kitchen. I washed my hands, got out bowls and measuring spoons, went over to the cabinet, and stared inside.
Stop thinking about unreliable men. Think about recipes.
I used the word like a mantra. Recipes. The possibilities flooded my mind and the tension eased. Cake or Cookies? Both. I’d make a Seven Layer Coconut Pineapple Cream cake and Double-Decker Chocolate Chip cookies. I went to work.

Two hours later, both were in the oven and I looked up. Garrett had an action movie on and the booming background noise paused occasionally for character lines. He glanced over his shoulder at me. He’d done that a number of times since I came back in, but I’d refused to meet his gaze. I washed my hands, letting the cool water run over them, dried them and joined him on the couch. “Cookies will be ready in fifteen,” I said.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Tell me you’re not going back out with that loser and I’ll let you pick the next movie.”

I grabbed a loose cushion and pinched its edges. “I’m not going back out with that loser and I want to watch something gory.”

Garrett pulled up the TV menu and put on a science-fiction flick: a train station set in space. “
Hyper-Track
’s just starting.”

I touched his wrist to draw his attention from the opening credits. “Garrett, what do you see when you see me? Do you think I’ll be a cook one day?”

 He put down the remote. “I know your future. You’ll own your own restaurant and you’ll be too proud to take my investment money and I’ll lose out because I’ve eaten at your table and your restaurant will be huge.”

“Garrett?” My stomach tightened and I spoke without looking at him. “What your agent said. What I said before…I’ll say it again. I don’t want to hold you back. I won’t.”

“The only person screwing with my career right now is intentional. And that’s Karla Quintos. Not you. So stop it, okay? Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

The doorbell rang in sync with the oven timer. I went for the cookies while Garrett got the door.

Feminine squeals wafted through foyer. “It’s him. I told you it was him.”

“I knew you hadn’t left the country, Garrett. I just knew it,” the second girl sobbed.

Uh oh. I checked the cake, turned the oven down ten degrees, and peeked at the entry.

Two teens, about fifteen, stood beyond Garrett. Both wore heavy makeup, perfect hairdos and matching T-shirts for Garrett’s upcoming movie,
Haven Hill
.

“Always good to see fans,” Garrett said. He glanced out at the gate and I knew he was thinking he should have shut it when he returned from his morning run.

I scooped some of the hot cookies into two baker’s bags, snagged a Sharpie marker, and went to his rescue. “Garrett, do you want to sign this for the girls before they take off?”

He took the first bag from me. “Sure.”

The taller of the two girls elbowed the other one and eyed me. “Are you Garrett’s sister?” Her voice raised in hope, though clearly I didn’t have a Scottish accent.

“No.”

“Oh.” She looked at Garrett who held the pen poised over the bag. “I’m Candace and she’s Kursten.”

Kursten, the one with the side pony braid stared at me, frowned, and gasped. “You’re Star Stalker Marissa. You found Garrett’s house too.” She turned to her friend. “My mom watches
Scoop Out
. She’s Star Stalker Marissa!
”
Her voice rose to an impossibly high squeal.

Garrett signed the bags front and back and handed the cookies over. “Yeah, she stalked me until I gave in and granted her access to the house. Now she bakes for me and I give the extras over to my fans.”

“Ooh.”

Candace, the tall one, sniffed the bag. “Chocolate Chip is my favorite.”

Kursten said, “Marissa told this one guy to ‘crawl back to the swamp.’ And he was cute too.” She turned to me. “Is Cajun Cal seeing anyone?”

“Nope.”

She turned back to her friend. “Oh, and there’s this sweet grandmother. She was going on and on about someone moving her knives. And Marissa told her…” She stopped to laugh. “Marissa told her to ‘Get a grip,’ right in the middle of her meltdown.”

Her rendition made me grin. The other girl just stared.

“It was so funny, you have to see it.”

Garrett eased back a step and smiled at the duo. “You girls have a great day now and thanks for wearing the T-shirts.”

“Bye, Garrett.”

Kursten stepped forward and held the bag out to me. She grinned with pink braces. “Sign it too, please. To my mom. Tracy. Her name is Tracy.”

I felt heat in my cheeks and a weird embarrassed pleasure. I took the white paper bag from her and the pen from Garrett. My mind blanked, then I decided to go for simple. I scrawled.
To Tracy. I hope you like the cookies. Marissa,
and handed it over.

“Thanks,” Kursten said and the two girls backed away as we shut the door.

Garrett moved to the window. When the girls had cleared the gate, he used the control panel to close it. “Nice kids.” He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “First autograph?”

I grinned up at him. “Yeah.”

He gave me a high five. “First of many, you’ll see.”

“Weird that we’re not that much older than them.”

“We’re decades older than them.” Garrett took my arm and pulled me to the couch. “Let’s watch the movie now, Stalker. And have some cookies.”

***

Hannah sat drawing in the corner. I knew her new haircut’s jagged ends were more out of necessity than style, but it was cute, kind of anime like her drawings. She wore a heavy sweater today. Because we were using the ovens, they had the room fairly cold, even more than usual.

The director got in front of Hannah. “Any word on Sara?”

“I’m not her keeper,” Hannah said, not looking up from her sketch. Anger underlay her words.

I could see her as an anime character, strolling across a desert wasteland seeking vengeance. I didn’t think she’d appreciate the characterization. Though I wanted to talk to her about her problems with her mom, I hadn’t shaken my hero-worship for Sara and all that she had achieved. Looking at Hannah’s bent head, I bet my defense of Sara would not be welcome right now.

“No, but you are a production assistant on this show,” the director said.

“I’m also a PA for the art department.” Hannah checked her cell phone. “And you know what, they need me right now.” She stomped out. “Call me if Mom bothers to appear.”

The director checked the clock and huffed out a breath. “Okay, we’ll record Sara later and add her in. Let’s get started. Do some final touches on your Height Challenge project and bring them to the judging table so the cameraman can get a good shot.”

I sprinkled powdered sugar over the top tier of my ten-tier dessert and carried it to the front. Will poked pixie sticks into his circular blob of a project and sat it beside mine. He swirled a variety of colors over each of the nine circles: one blue, one red, one yellow. Aesthetically I had his circles and Cal’s regular round pie beat, even if it was tall for a pie. My project reached eye level.

“Get a move on, Cal,” the director said, prodding Cal, who still worked at his prep table. Cal waved at the camera.

“When you’re left with no resources, you use what you can. I’ve got old Gator here to help me out.” Cal wiggled the gator out from under the restraints on his cap. He used the immobilized tail to poke holes in the crispy top of the pie. He lifted his pie high to the camera lens. “In olden days, for royal feasts, cooks would put on a show. They’d roll their dessert to a primo spot in the room.” Cal carried his pie plate to the front. He nudged Will’s dessert aside so his could go in the middle. “And demo the big reveal.” He positioned the gator at the edge of the piecrust. “I’m ready.”

The director nodded. “Hold off for now. Marissa put hers up first.” She moved in front of me. “Present your dish.”

“My dish is called Ten Tear Dessert.” I winked at the camera. “The ten-tier blown sugar dessert has a strong base and each layer is lighter in weight so the hard candy can hold it together. Each tier represents the chances you give a relationship and how your patience thins out by the top.”

“Excellent choice for the Height Challenge.” The director moved to Will. “Will, Can you top Marissa’s ten tiers? Please, present your dessert.”

“With height as the theme, I went as high as man can go. Our solar system.” He looked straight into the camera. “Moms, if you can’t get your kids to study, feed them with knowledge. On my dessert a sweet syrupy sun anchors the piece, followed by Mercury Meringue, Vanilla Venus filling, edible Earth cake, marshmallow Mars, caramel Jupiter, Saturn sorbet, lime Uranus, and nuts for Neptune. Pixie sticks are a whimsical addition to hold my universe together.”

“Extraordinary,” the director said, and then moved in front of Cal. “Please present your dish. Can you go higher than the sky?”