All of a sudden I felt guilty for one of the films I starred in last year: Broken Promises. I played an engaged lawyer who fell for one of his clients and dumped his bride to be. Of course, my “fiancé” had been cheating on me the whole time so that kind of evened things.
I wondered how Melody’s fiancé broke it to her. Surely he told her in private and not in front of all the wedding guests like I did in my movie.
“I’ve got everything here,” Joan pulled up in a golf cart. “I opened a tab in your name at the winery and told them I’d call with the credit card tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thanks…Do you know how to build a bonfire?”
I walked around the blazing bonfire, throwing wood chips towards it to ease my nerves. Joan was picking Melody up from her villa and it was taking forever.
I rearranged the bench. I re-aligned the snacks on the small table. I changed the song on my iHome. I thought about potential conversation starters, potential drinking games.
I saw moving lights in the distance and stood still. The golf cart stopped a few feet in front of me and Melody stepped out. As she walked closer I saw that she was wearing a tight red dress.
WOW.
“Good evening, Melody.”
I should’ve suggested a night on my yacht instead…
“Good evening,” she smiled.
Joan flashed the cart’s lights twice, her way of saying “call me when you need me,” and drove away.
“You want something to drink?”
“Sure,” she walked over to the bench and sat down.
“Would you like wine or a beer? I got the lightest stuff so you won’t fall asleep on me.”
She blushed. “Wine’s fine. How was your day?”
Absolutely perfect now…
“It was okay. Joan and I just walked around the island.”
“Are you two friends outside of your business relationship?”
“She’s pretty much my only friend. She does everything right most of the time so it doesn’t really feel like business. Whenever she wants a day off, I give it to her. And if she tells me she’s interested in a nice item or something, I never allow her to pay for it. We have our own way of communicating the friendship aspect.”
“Must be nice.”
“What about you?” I sat next to her and handed her a glass of white wine. “What’d you do today?”
“I did a three mile hike and went parasailing with my sister.”
“Sounds like a tiring day,” I went over my list of conversation starters. “Have you been here before?”
“No, this is my first time. This is where me and my fiancé would’ve gone for our honeymoon.”
Damn. What do I say to that?
Melody continued, “It was an open ticket so I waited until now to use it.”
“When was the wedding?”
“Almost a month ago. I can’t believe it’s been that long. I was such a mess after he left me. Everyone was staring at me with their pity eyes.”
“He left you at the wedding?”
“In front of everyone,” she sighed. “It was right after we said our vows. The girl he cheated on me with showed up and just like that, he didn’t want to marry me anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. At least I don’t have to be in a relationship with someone who is just pretending you know?”
“I can relate to that,” I sipped my drink.
Should I tell her about me and Selena? Do I possibly have a chance? She’s clearly still hurt by her ex…
“Hey! You let me talk about personal stuff!” she giggled. “Don’t let me do that again.”
“I wasn’t going to cut you off. I want to know more about you.”
She’s blushing again…
“What do you want to know?” she asked.
“For starters, why don’t you ever go to movie premieres?”
“I just don’t see the point,” she shrugged. “It all seems so fake to me, no offense.”
“None taken. I sometimes feel that way too, but I have to see my fans.”
“Do the fans really matter though? Like, once you get to a certain point where movie studios are paying you ridiculous money and everyone knows your name, why do you even care?”
I gave her my best “Did you really just say that?” look and shook my head. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a cynic? Of course the fans matter. They’re the people who see the movies and actually enjoy them, unlike someone I know.”
She flashed her smile and sat back. I resisted the urge to lean over and kiss her.
“My turn to ask you questions, Matt.”
“Go ahead.”
“What made you leave Broadway?”
“You want an honest answer or a politically correct one?”
Please say the politically correct one…
“Both.”
“Okay, for the politically correct one: I wanted to expand my repertoire and learn new techniques. For the honest one: I wanted the bigger paycheck and all the perks that came with being more famous—beautiful women wanting me and VIP treatment everywhere I go.”
“Now I regret even asking,” she crossed her legs.
I wonder what she’s wearing under the dress…
“Just being honest.”