Behind the Scenes(35)

“That explains why every time they landed on a new planet it looked just like Southern California.” What I said isn’t particularly funny, but the corner of his mouth creeps up anyway. “Which Star Trek do you like the most?”

“The original. I wanted to be in it. When I was a kid, there was this cottonwood in our backyard and I took all these wooden boards and made a fort in it. I pretended that I was a crew member stranded on an alien planet waiting to be rescued.”

I laugh. “And were you rescued?”

He smirks. “Maybe I would have been if I had more patience. It’s hard to stay marooned past dinner.”

“So which were you? The nameless crew member who always gets killed right after landing?”

“Kind of. I was the nameless one you think has been killed but is really alive. The crew goes back to the ship, leaving his body behind, thinking he’s a goner when he’s actually just sustained a shoulder wound and is busy learning how to grow his own crops.”

I’ve rarely heard him say so much in one go, and the subject is hilarious. I burst out laughing and he joins me.

“That’s quite a plot twist,” I say. “Maybe you can buy the rights to the series and start it fresh with that new spin.”

The first cave looms in front of us, a small gaggle of people hanging out around its entrance. We stop and wait for a group of slow walking tourists to pass through.

“I’ll always think of it as the bat cave entrance,” I say.

His eyebrows shoot up. “That’s way before your generation.”

“Star Trek is way before you generation. I know you’re not that old, Mr. Mulroney.”

“Maybe I just have good skin. Mulroney Pictures has been around for a while, you know. Who do you think cleared the land and killed the mountain lions so the back lot could be built?”

I giggle and look down at my feet. I had no idea he was this funny. Maybe it’s being away from the confines of the office that allows him to relax and let loose.

“You know they used the crushed rock from here to make nearby city streets,” I say. “That was from nineteen oh three to the late twenties, but some movies filmed here while the quarry was still in use. Lightning Bryce. Riders of the Purple Sage.”

I look back up to find Mr. Mulroney staring at me.

I bite my lip and look away.

“You’re a human encyclopedia,” he says, his words so low I can barely hear them.

I self-consciously tuck my hair behind my ear. “Just when it comes to some things. Try telling that to my high school math teachers. I was dumb as a bag of rocks when it came to calculus.”

“And now you don’t use calculus,” he says. “By the way, who’s even seen Lightning Bryce? I don’t even know what that’s about.”

“It was a Western serial. I’ve only seen one.”

He’s still staring at me. A hot flush begins in my stomach and rises up.

“Come on,” he finally says.

The spell broken, he heads for the tunnel entrance. I follow behind at a fair distance. The cave is slightly cooler than outside, simply because there’s no sun beating down on our heads. The short tunnel splits into three. Mr. Mulroney goes in the direction the few people ahead of us take, and we come out into the canyon like area behind the cave. Hills are visible in the distance. Pressed against the face of one of them is the white Hollywood sign.

“Do you feel it yet?” I joke.

He turns around to face me, his face blank. “What?”

“Like we’re in Star Trek. I can pretend to shoot at you with my blaster if you want. You can run and hide behind that rock over there.”

Mr. Mulroney laughs, and the sight of it is so beautiful I can’t help but stare. Who is this man standing in front of me? He’s shown so many faces, but which one belongs to the real him?

Or maybe he’s just a psycho with bipolar disorder. That would explain everything.

I chuckle as well and kick the dirt around in front of me. His legs edging closer jerks my attention back to him. He’s less than a foot away and still looking down at me.

My breath hitches. Is he going to try something? Here, in front of half a dozen or more people?

They would just think he was my boyfriend. No one would know he’s my dick boss.

The dream sends a sweet shudder through me. If Mr. Mulroney were to kiss me, I would let it happen. I’m already swept away in this fantasy. I committed myself to it before I even got out of the car. One afternoon of letting go; of simple enjoyment.

He reaches forward and the side of his hand brushes against mine. My chest swells. It seems like he’s about to grab my hand, but he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers just graze against mine before falling back to his side.