Chapter 9

chapter

nine

Andrew

I quickly end the video chat with my family because something is very wrong with Maxine and I need to find out what it is. I toss on some shoes and grab a travel neck pillow—advice from my mother—for me to sit on in lieu of a donut pillow. Stupid ass injury. So that slows me down more than I'd like.

By the time I pull into the lot at the studio, I'm nearly two hours behind her.

I barge into the main studio and there she is, standing at the craft services table talking to Scarlet and Laura. There are a few other of the main actors and crew members around as well.

She looks up and sees me and immediately starts shaking her head. She tries to set aside her plate of food, but she's trapped by some equipment, the table, and me.

"What the hell was that about, with you barging out of my house like your hair was on fire?" I ask her.

"We're not doing this," she says.

"Yes, we are. We're so doing this."

One of the cameramen steps forward to take her plate.

"Thank you," she says.

"You spend one amazing night in my arms, in my bed, then you just rush out like it meant nothing," I say. "That is not how this is gonna work, sweet thing."

She pops her fists on her hips. "No, evidently the way this is gonna work is you're going to call me horrible names to your family when I'm not in the room."

"Andrew," Scarlett scolds.

"Oh no," Laura says.

And I just laugh.

"Oh, so you just think this is all hilarious?" Max asks.

"Go ahead, tell them what you overheard," I say. "What's this horrible name you heard?"

"You called me a whale," she says.

"Nope. Be more specific."

"A narwhal!" She tosses her hands up. "He called me a fucking narwhal. Like it's any better to refer to me as a specific kind of whale?"

Scarlett gasps, looking from me to Max and back again, her eyes widening. "Is she really, Andrew?"

"Oh yeah."

Then Scarlett and Laura are both wiping their eyes and side hugging. "You've waited so long."

The cameraman who took Max's plate and has since been snacking off of it, comes and claps me on the shoulder. "Congrats, man."

"Hold up!" Max yells. "You are all crazy people! Why is everyone so excited that he's calling me a fancy unicorn whale?"

I close the distance between us and cup her face. "You're beautiful when you're angry," I say.

"You're a lunatic."

"Shall I explain?"

"By all means. Not going to deny that I'm curious about this. Especially since everyone seems to know about it but me."

"I already told you how I ended up in Hollywood and this line of work, but why I stayed, well, that's a bit of a different story. The truth is, I just felt like my narwhal was here and that someday this was where I'd find her."

Her brow furrows.

"You know how people talk about their perfect someone? They'll have a list of attributes, characteristics, traits, features, etc. But to put them all together in one person seems to be asking too much of the world. So, they refer to this perfect someone as ‘the unicorn.' Why? Because unicorns are mythical creatures. They actually don't exist. In essence they're saying before they even start, I'll never find what I'm looking for so why even try."

I grab her hands and squeeze them, then run my thumb across her knuckles. "But in my family, we're raised to believe that our perfect someone isn't mythical, but also might not be right next door. You might have to actually go look. Narwhals are hard to find. They're magical and cool and majestic. But they're totally fucking real."

She opens her mouth, then closes it. "So, you weren't calling me fat?"

"What? God, no. I love your body. I thought I made that abundantly clear last night."

"You did. That's why this felt like such a kick in the teeth. And maybe I was hearing someone else's words or meaning this morning. I don't know." She gives me a watery smile. "So what exactly does all that mean?"

"Do you believe in soul mates, Max?" I ask her.

"I used to. But then life experiences kinda taught me that love like that only exists in the movies and I know more than anyone how fake that is."

"Why is that?" Scarlett asks.

"Because I'm heiress to Lionheart Productions . Or I was until I pissed off my grandfather. Now I'm heiress to exactly nothing."

"Wait, so that means you're Ridge Sawyer's daughter?" the cameraman asks.

"That would be me." She holds her arms up in a ‘ta-da' movement. "I assumed everyone knew."

"I don't think anyone knew," I say. "I mean I had no idea. Not that it matters."

"Your family is like movie royalty though," Scarlett says.

"Yes. The Kennedys of Hollywood as my aunt used to say. And we have the curse to go with it."

"Give Andrew a chance to prove your theory wrong," Scarlett says. "He really has been looking for his narwhal since I've known him and that's been a really long time."

I thread my fingers through Max's and lead her away from the cast. Once we're alone, I cup her face.

"I'm not playing games here, sweet thing. Especially with your heart. I would never want to hurt you. The fact that you thought those things this morning kills me." I squeeze my eyes closed. "I mean you thought my entire family was having a good old laugh at your expense. Darlin,' I'd never, never do that. To anyone, but especially someone I love."

She gasps and looks up into my eyes. "Wait, what? You love me?"

"I'm in love with you. Now and forever, amen. Stick a fork in me, I'm done, kind of love. Put a ‘sold!' sign up in my yard, kind of love."

She laughs through tears. "I'm not even sure I know what all of that means, but I'm willing to find out. I love you too, Andrew. I'm not sure I know how to do the forever thing. No one in my family has ever been any good at it."

"That's all right. Everyone in my family is. I'll teach you and we'll take one day at a time."

Then she kisses me.