I drop my car off with the valet and walk out onto the deck. The deck overlooks the ocean and has great lounge furniture and gorgeous views. I immediately spot Vincent. He’s leaned back on one of the platform lounges that is almost bed-like. There’s a silver wine bucket next to him that’s wrapped in a white napkin so it doesn’t sweat all over. He’s been staring out at the ocean, but he turns, looks at me, and gives me a little wave. Like in case I didn’t see him.
I smile and slowly walk toward him. He looks very handsome in a white cotton shirt, pale yellow shorts, dark yellow driving loafers, and black wayfarers.
He stands up to greet me, gives me a couple air kisses, and then takes my hand and sits down.
I perch daintily on the edge of the lounge, letting my feet dangle off the side.
“I’m really glad you agreed to meet me,” he says.
“I’m glad you asked.”
He holds his index finger up in the air, and the attentive waiter brings us two glasses that he fills with Chardonnay.
When the waiter walks away, Vincent leans close to me, clinks his glass softly against mine, and says, “To the beach.” He takes a drink then puts his head down slightly. Like maybe he’s saying a silent prayer.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I ask.
“Yes. Thinking about work helps.”
“Oh, so this is about work?”
He grins, takes a sip of wine, then says, “Now that I’ve found the perfect lead, work is about all I can think about.”
“What are you going to call the movie? Hopefully not something bad like Another Day at the Lake or A Day at the Lake: Part Deux.”
He laughs. “Those do sound bad. How about A Bad Day at the Lake?”
“Or Just Another Day at the Lake.”
“I actually like that one,” he says.
“So I don’t really get what my character will be doing besides screaming in a bikini.”
“She’ll kick ass in a bikini.”
“You mean I won’t get a cape and some tights? That’s it. I’m out.”
He laughs again and says, “You’re funny.”
“I wasn’t joking,” I say with a straight face to tease him.
He studies me, so I remove all trace of emotion from my face. Give him my poker face.
“Remind me not to play poker with you.”
A smile breaks out across my face. “I suck at poker. I always smile when I get a good hand. I can usually do a joke straight faced, but I’ll be honest. I’m not that good of a liar.”
“The key to lying is to convince yourself it’s the truth.”
I tilt my head and think about that. “So you have to lie to yourself first. That’s interesting.”
I drink a little more wine. Neither one of us is talking now. We’re looking at the ocean. Looking at each other. Drinking our wine. It’s a surprisingly comfortable silence. I don’t feel the least bit nervous around Vincent. I look at his expensive clothes, his handsome good looks, and wonder why he chose to be behind the scenes in the movie industry rather than in front of the camera.
“So why aren’t you an actor? You definitely have the face for it.”
“Well, thank you. I guess I’m more fascinated with what goes on behind the scenes. And I’m sort of a Type A personality. Very meticulous, very organized. Grandmother said you need to be very creative to act. I’m much more right brained. Facts, figures, deadlines. I’m good at those. Grandmother taught me a lot about the craft: how to spot talent, about the creation of the story—characters, story arc, plot tension, how special effects should enhance the story line not take the place of it.”
“It sounds like we have a lot in common. I grew up hearing about all those things too.” I take another sip of wine, and he immediately refills my glass. “And I’m pretty creative, but I can’t for the life of me figure out how you’re going to add special effects to A Day at the Lake. Are aliens gonna attack? Will I have to fight off a pack of rabid sharks?”
“Aliens. The movie blurb is gonna be, Saving the world, one bikini at a time.”
At first I start to laugh, but he looks serious.
“Ohmigawd, it's a spoof movie!? No way I'm doing that!”
He puts his wine glass up to his lips, and I notice his mouth break into a little smirk. He's got one knee bent up on the couch and I slap my hand down on it when I realize he’s lying.
“Oh my gosh! You’re doing it. You're lying to me.”
He laugh and then covers my hand with his.
It’s at this point I realize that I am touching his naked knee.
And that I probably shouldn’t have done that.
But Vincent doesn’t look offended. Instead he grins and says, “Part of me wants to teach you to lie. The other part of me loves that you can't. I watched four different emotions cross your face while you figured it out. I know you thought it was just a pickup line, but I was serious when I said you have a very expressive face.”