She laughs, rushing away as the director, Lisa, calls her name. Sterling shuffles toward the long table spread with food and I step up beside him, unloading apple fritters from a bag, and his hand stops reaching for the fruit bowl when he sees what I take out next.
His lips smack together as I peel back the top of a purple-and-white-striped rectangular box, revealing twelve lemon-glazed pop tarts from Lotus bakery.
“It was you,” he says accusingly, dropping the banana faster than he picked it up.
“What was me?” I play dumb, because of course it was. I wasn’t letting anyone else take credit for that gigantic smile his lips are threatening to break into. It was going to be for me and me alone. They all will be from here on.
“You bought all the lemon-glazed pop tarts.”
“Wait, do you like these too? I didn’t know.” I smile on the inside, hoping I’m more convincing than I feel I’m being.
“Yeah . . . I . . . I sent one of the assistants to get me one and she said they were all gone.”
“Oh, man.” My lips downturn. “I’m sorry. I was hoping to bring some for everyone, but all they had was twelve.” I scoot the box closer to him. “Here. Go ahead and have first dibs.”
His eyes go round in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
He looks around, reaching out his hand only to retract it. “I shouldn’t. Too many people are around, and there was barely anyone here yesterday, but somehow my late-night pizza dinner got back to Lisa anyway.”
I look around and nod in understanding. “How about this . . . I’ll sneak some to your trailer in a few minutes. I’ll say I’m going out for some quick air or something.”
“I . . .” He scratches at his arm and tugs on the sleeves of his T-shirt. “You’d really do that?”
“Of course. I know what it’s like living in a house with strict rules, but luckily I had a next-door neighbor who’d occasionally leave cookies on my bedroom windowsill.”
“Dang, it sucks you had to grow up that way, but I’m glad you were still able to enjoy sweet treats every now and again. Everyone should get to.”
“Me too, and I agree. So, what do you say? Want me to be that neighbor who helps you enjoy them every now and then?”
He nibbles on his bottom lip, his gaze circling the room again, and he nods with a gentle smile. “Yeah, okay. I . . . how about you come around in ten minutes. I have to be in the makeup chair in thirty.”
“Ten it is.”
His eyes are warm, causing a wonderful sensation to bloom in my chest, and he dips his head, his face flushing. “Yeah. See you then. Thanks, Hayden.”
“That’s ‘camera guy Hayden’ to you.”
He barks out a laugh. “Right. See you in ten, camera guy Hayden.” He sets his empty plate back down and returns to histrailer. I snatch up the same plate and stack four pop tarts on top. Someone reaches around me to grab one too, and I keep myself from telling them they aren’t for them. Instead, I plaster on a smile and say, “Morning.”
He lifts his head, shoving a biscuit into his mouth, and strides away. He must be an actor. Most of them think they’re better than everyone else, acting like the sun shines out of their ass. Not my movie star, though. He’s kind to everyone and has never once looked down on any of the camera or makeup crew the way so many of his friends have. I’ve seen him complain about the bad behavior of others many times, like he wishes he can fix it, and I’m going to be the one to show him exactly how he can.
I fix myself a plate, balancing it on top of the other one, and head to the back room to drop my bag off before hurrying over to Sterling’s trailer. The door is cracked open when I reach it, and I stick my head in, knocking softly. Sterling pulls the headphones out of his ears and stands from the small bench. “Hey. Come on in.”
I make sure no one’s paying attention as I enter the trailer and close the door behind me. “Hey. It’s been more like eight minutes, but it was either that or fifteen. Once I start doing something else, it sometimes takes a while to walk away from it.”
“I feel ya, and yeah, two minutes is no big deal. You could have come five minutes early for all I care. I was just trying not to come off sounding too desperate.”
Desperate for what exactly? Me? The company? Or is this really about some lemon-flavored pop tarts he could have whenever he’s done filming this movie? I don’t ask him to specify, and instead I say, “Hey, baked goods are hard to wait for. Especially ones from Lotus bakery.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles, taking one of the plates from me. “Want to join me? I see you have your food too, and you did let me sit with you yesterday.”
“So you’re only doing it because you feel like you owe me and not because you want me to?” I tease, joining him at the small table he pulls over to the small couch.
“I mean . . . you were pretty nice company yesterday. I figured you might be today too.”
“Yeah, I might.” I scoot closer to him and our legs touch.