“I dunno, haven’t figured it out yet. Being a celebrity stylist would be fun, but I probably should study fashion or something first. I’ve been saving money for school eventually, but at this pace, I’ll be fifty before I have enough. I took a few acting classes, just for the heck of it. They were all right, but acting is not for me.”
“Why not?”
“My God, are you kidding me? It’s the toughest fucking job—the competition, the rejections. Shit, I couldn’t deal with it. I’m not half as tough as Sandy.”
“Yeah, she is tough, isn’t she?”
“As nails,” Olly agreed, and they sank into another stretch of comfortable silence. It ended with the ringing of Olly’s phone. “Hey, Hunter,” he warbled into the phone. “Uh-huh… He’s fine, slept it off. Thanks for asking. … Yeah, me too. Okay, see you in the store? Sure. Bye.”
“The guy from the other night?” Rich asked. He disliked this Hunter without even having met the guy.
Olly beamed. “Wanted to know if Dylan was all right. Nice of him, isn’t it?”
Rich kept his opinion to himself. “Sure. I’m gonna call Sandy, try to find out how much longer she’ll be. We’ve been here for well over an hour.”
“Hey, Chard, where did you run off to?” she asked before he could even say hello.
Rich evaded. “Nowhere. Sightseeing with Olly.”
“Oh. Sorry. Did I interrupt something?” she cooed.
“No!” Good God, what was she thinking? “He’s just showing me around. You told me I needed to make new friends.”
“I’m just surprised you listened to me. It’s a first.” Her words were playful but not without an edge.
Some other time, Rich would’ve argued, but it wasn’t in him now. “I listen all the time. I just don’t obey. How was the screen test?”
“Good! Very good. I think.” She sounded anxious.
“It’ll work out. You’ll see. Where are you?”
“At home. Where would I be?”
“I dunno, wherever you Hollywood big shots go.”
“Ha-ha. This big shot is spending the rest of the day waiting for the kitchen-cabinet delivery. Are you coming home any time soon, or should I leave the porch light on?”
“Nah, I’ll be back before dark.” Rich’s plan to catch the blackmailer had gone bust, but the whole day didn’t have to go to waste. Something Olly said had given him an idea.
“Good, because I think the porch light needs a new bulb, and I don’t know if I have one or where,” she replied.
Rich hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket. “She’s not coming.”
The news seemed to please Olly. “So she won’t pay the guy? Good for her!”
“I hope it won’t fuck up her career. Maybe I should stake out the mailbox tomorrow at dawn, in case the asshole leaves another envelope.”
“Okay.” Olly started up the engine. “I need to go to work, but I can drop you off first.”
“Nah. Take me to Hollywood. I feel like sightseeing.” Rich wasn’t about to share his ulterior motive.
“Are you sure? Public transportation isn’t so great around here.”
“I’m a big boy.”
“That’s what he said!” Olly tittered and rolled out of the parking lot, paying no heed to Rich’s burning cheeks.
Before being dropped off on Hollywood Boulevard, Rich made Olly swear not to breathe a word about their adventure to anyone, including Sandy.
Chapter Five
Olly had a short shift that afternoon, but a full nine-to-six the next day. It was also Sunday, the busiest day of the week. Between restocking dairy, register, and collecting shopping carts in the parking lot, he had no time to think of anything not grocery related for hours. His first chance came at lunch break. He and Jem sat together at the Formica table in the break room, Olly eating a yummy salad and Jem one of those carb-loaded sandwiches.
“I thought you hated him,” Jem said, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth.
Olly stopped skewering bits of arugula with his fork. “Hate is such a strong word. My mother says if you hold on to hate, it’ll turn you hard and bitter—like a dried-out old lemon. And she should know, she’s plump and sweet and doesn’t hate anyone.”
“Well, I guess she has a point. So you and this Rich are all buddies now?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Olly lifted his fork, but instead of depositing its contents into his mouth, he paused. He struggled to shape his impressions of Rich into words. “It’s strange… He can be civil, but it’s taking him an effort, I can tell. As if his mind was elsewhere. I think he’s troubled.” He shoved the fork into his face.