The eggs popped and sizzled as he stood at the stove. While he waited to flip them, she moved over to his mantel to examine the framed pictures he had there. “Don’t tell me this is Simon O’Neal!”
He could understand why that might surprise her. Simon was one of the biggest movie stars in America. “Actually, it is,” he said. “A few years ago, Gail, one of my best friends, opened a PR agency in LA. She took Simon on as a client, and long story short, they fell in love. They’re married now and have three kids.”
“And you hang out with them?”
“They’re in LA most of the time, or on location, but we get together whenever they come to visit.”
She moved on to the other photographs. “All the rest of these people are...”
“Those are my parents, on the left. The kids you see are my niece and nephew.”
“Your sister’s children, the one who lives in Pennsylvania?”
“Since she remarried and moved there a few years ago, yes. For a while, she was living in one of my rentals.”
“And these other people?”
He glanced over. “My friends.”
“You have a lot of friends,” she said.
“I’m guessing you do, too.”
“New friends aren’t the same as old friends.”
Was she referring to the paradox of being famous and yet lonely? “Are you missing home?” He supposed that would explain why she’d come to the Sierra Nevada Foothills.
“I’m missing something,” she said.
He flipped the eggs. “And that is...”
She turned away from his pictures and came back to the table. “Nothing. Never mind.”
*
Lourdes enjoyed dinner. Kyle—they were now comfortably on a first-name basis—was down-to-earth and didn’t seem too affected by her celebrity. He wasn’t overly solicitous, just real. Somehow that put her at ease, made her feel at home when she’d been on edge for so long. Maybe, since he was used to socializing with someone far more famous than she was, he didn’t consider her to be any big deal.
Or maybe it was just that Kyle was so comfortable in his own skin. Had she ever met a man more self-assured? She’d seen plenty of arrogance in her line of work. And vanity. The vanity was worse than the arrogance. But Kyle was different. He seemed to be at peace with who and what he was, and she admired his quiet strength, even though she didn’t know him very well.
He was the calm at the center of the storm, she thought and felt a spark of creative excitement. That was it! Her first idea! She’d write a song about how one person could provide a safe harbor for others in the middle of life’s chaos and confusion.
The fact that she felt like writing anything lifted her spirits. This was the first time she’d experienced that desire since her last album...
“What are you smiling at?” Kyle asked.
She sobered. “Nothing. It just feels good to be full. And warm.”
“You can turn the thermostat up higher, if you like.” He raised one eyebrow. “But I might have to go sleep in the garage if you do.”
She laughed as she handed him her plate, since he was standing at the sink, and went back to finish clearing the table. “You’re safe. The temperature’s perfect in here.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“So...you’re single,” she said as she brought him their cups.
He seemed startled by the comment. “Yes.”
“An entrenched bachelor?”
“Not quite. I’m divorced.”
She hesitated before going back to get their orange juice glasses. “Do you have kids?”
“No. And considering what my ex-wife is like, that’s a blessing.”
She wanted to ask him more—how long ago he was married, how he met his wife, whether or not she still lived in town. Lourdes also wondered, but wouldn’t ask, why they hadn’t had children. But then her phone buzzed on the counter, where she’d put it earlier. She’d left Derrick several messages while she was at the airport and then when she’d arrived in Whiskey Creek, and he was getting back to her.
Finally...
“Excuse me,” she said, taking her phone into the spare room where Kyle had put her bag.