Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
But we both choose to be here together and are enjoying each other’s company. How lovely.
The bar is in an old building near the Art Museum. Dean, of course, drives a cool dude sleek silver Porsche 911. Given how low to the ground it is, wearing jeans is working out well for me so far. My brown booties are a slightly more manageable two inches high, and my cute, fitted sweater is dark blue. Chances are, if I spill anything tonight, it won’t be as visible. Not that I intend to spill anything. I am nervous, but not as bad as the night before for some reason. Guess it’s because I have more of an idea of where I stand with the man. My hair is in a high ponytail, and my makeup worked out well. When I walked out of my room, Dean did a double-take. Then he gave me the slowest, hottest smile in all of creation. A worthwhile thing to do would be to catalogue his smiles. So many of his moods show through them. Or maybe I’m just obsessed.
But I can do this. I can date someone who is cool.
And I believe this, right up until we approach the table where Jimmy and Lena are waiting. Oh no. Jimmy Ferris. My fangirl kryptonite in the flesh. It’s like I’m fourteen with bad acne hiding out in my bedroom at home all over again. The decidedly not cool kid who never got invited anywhere. But I had plenty of big dreams. So much yearning.
I resist the urge to giggle and sigh. Just the sight of him brings all of my fourteen-year-old nerves roaring back to life. It’s not even attraction so much as it’s being in the presence of a real-life rock star. This needs to stop. Now.
Dean pulls out a chair for me, and I give him a nervous smile. Maybe if I just don’t look at Jimmy for the remainder of the night, I won’t embarrass myself. It might work.
“Hey, guys,” says Lena with a broad smile. She, of course, looks amazing. Her dark hair is hanging in long loose curls, and her sweater dress is siren red. I can’t help but admire the way she goes through life loud and proud and with such style. When I grow up, I want to be just like her.
“Hi,” I say, picking up the menu. A perfect aid for blocking out any views of the elder Ferris brother.
Beside me, Dean pauses before taking his seat and giving Lena a nod. Which is interesting.
A close protection officer stands nearby, keeping an eye on everything. It must be so strange being rich and famous. Having people standing guard over you. The lack of privacy would have to get to you now and then. But I guess it’s part of the price you pay for fame and fortune. We’re situated near a back exit just in case the crowd gets rowdy or if fans start to flock. No wonder some celebrities hide away in their mansions. I’m not even anyone important, and it’s taken me a while to get used to all of the attention and security over the years. The way you can feel all of the eyes on you. Like we’re an exhibition at the zoo or something. A couple of people who pull out cells and point them our way are talked to by waiters or management. But most of the bar’s patrons are content to just sneak looks now and then. Stage Dive has been living in Portland for a while now. Seeing them around and about isn’t unusual. And the proudly weird residents of the city are generally pretty cool.
“Something came up last minute with Lizzy’s work, so Ben won’t be joining us,” says Jimmy.
Dean grimaces. “That’s a pity.”
“Hey, Jude.” Jimmy tips his chin at me. Dammit. I’m not supposed to be looking at the man. “How are you?”
I duck down behind my menu once more. “Good, thank you.”
Dean turns to me and says, “Ask me another get-to-know-you question.”
“Um,” I say, gathering my thoughts. “What was your favorite book as a child?”
“Good question. My father used to read The Hobbit to me at bedtime. He was a roadie, so he was away a lot for work. But whenever he was home, he’d read to me. I’ve got a lot of great memories attached to that book.”
“It is a great book.” I start to relax a little. “So being in the music business is in your blood?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I guess it is. What was your favorite book?”
“A Wrinkle in Time,” I answer instantly.
“Why that one?”
“Not only was it about a girl going on an adventure, it was the message that you could be yourself and think for yourself, and that was okay. And they told her to stay angry. Not many books tell girls that being angry can be useful and good and right.”