Wildest Dreams

24. Pierre

PIERRE

M y stomach is in knots for hours after I leave Kendall’s apartment.

Not once in my career have I been late for anything and, of course, today I am late in the most public and embarrassing way. Belladonna is mad, the entire town saw me come out of Kendall’s door, and Marina has been on me like a hawk, wanting to know what’s going on.

“What were you doing in the accounting office while we were supposed to be filming?”

“None of your business, Marina.”

“Who were you with?”

“None of your business, Marina.”

“Did you even spend the night at your place? I heard the studio rented some fancy house on the river for you.”

“None of your business, Marina.”

It’s like this all day.

To top it off, I felt terrible for Kendall. The entire time I’ve known her, the last thing she’s wanted is attention. Now the whole town will be talking about me stumbling out of her place with my shirt on inside out. Last night was spectacular—she’d finally let her guard down in every way. I hope this morning doesn’t set us back again.

I send her a text when I get a break between scenes. Luckily, she answers, which is reassuring after she ignored me most of last week.

Once I get back to the lake house, I take a much-needed shower after spending all day in the Alabama heat, then settle on the back deck to watch the sunset and enjoy a cold beer. Bertha is waiting, of course. I go back in, retrieve yet another rotisserie chicken, and chuck it towards the water, where I watch her disappear into the orange and blue reflection of the sky.

I crack open my beer, a Swamp Ass Stout from Cattywampus, of course, and call Kendall. I hold my breath until I hear her voice.

“Hi, Pierre,” she says, sounding a little defeated.

“Kendall, I’m so sorry about how the morning ended.”

She sighs. “It’s okay. I should’ve thought about setting an alarm.”

“No, it’s entirely on me. I don’t want it to put a damper on the night we had. Everything was magical until I overslept.”

She’s quiet for a moment and I find myself holding my breath again.

“It was,” she finally says. “But we need to be more careful going forward. My phone has been blowing up all day.”

“I agree. I’m just happy you’re not mad at me.”

“Of course not.”

“Listen, I have tomorrow off. Do you want to do something?”

“Yes! I actually have a great idea for a date. No one will see us, I promise. Let me get everything set up and I’ll text you the details. I also have a surprise for you.”

“I can’t wait.”

After I hang up the phone, I take a long sip of my beer. I didn’t realize how tense and worried I’d been all day.

I lean back and close my eyes, consumed with the memory of Kendall’s skin on mine.

* * *

I wake up to a text from Kendall letting me know that Patsy and her husband will be at the house to drop off a boat around lunchtime.

My heart skips a beat. If this is her idea of a perfect date, we must be soulmates.

I pick out some light clothes to wear, then have a cup of coffee on the deck while I check my email. There are no fewer than five from Belladonna excoriating me from the day before. There is also a note from my agent about not getting a reputation for tardiness, and an email from Marina asking if she can see me today to go over some lines.

I delete them all.

At noon on the dot, a pontoon boat captained by a guy with a mass of curly dark hair pulls up to the dock. I walk down the steps, on the lookout for Bertha, and wave to him as he ties up the boat.

Patsy startles me when she comes around the corner of the house from the driveway, hair curled, wearing heels and a white dress covered in lemons. “Hi, Pierre!” she says. “We’re just dropping the boat off!”

“Thank you! I’m looking forward to taking it out.”

“Y’all have fun!”

I go back inside to wash my coffee cup when Kendall texts me to let me know she’s outside. I notice she still doesn’t want to come in.

The thick, humid air slaps me in the face as soon as I open the door to meet her. I pick her up and spin her around before kissing her. She looks amazing. She’s wearing a white sheer cover-up over a pink bikini with flip-flops. Her hair is pulled back and she doesn’t have a bit of makeup on her face. This is exactly how I like her—natural and effortless.

“I’m so happy to see you,” I say.

“You just saw me yesterday.”

“Yeah, but I was afraid the way I left and everyone seeing it would freak you out.”

“It did, but I’m trying to get better at letting things go. Speaking of which,” she says, digging through her purse. “This is for you.” She hands me a tiny memory card in a plastic case. “They turned out really well.”

“We took those for you.”

“This is a copy. I want both of us to have them.”

“Thank you, Kendall. This means a lot to me.”

“Well, it’ll have to wait,” she says, “because I’m ready to hit the water.” She walks to the back of her SUV and pulls out a small cooler and a bag. “Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

We walk down to the dock and get on the boat. Kendall drives since I don’t have a boating license, and she looks like she’s been doing this her entire life. Growing up here, she probably has. She’s relaxed and in her element, smiling ear to ear as the wind whips her ponytail around like a propeller.

We pull into a creek and drop the anchor. It’s narrow, but private and serene. There isn’t another boat in sight, nor are there any buildings nearby. It’s a thick forest of oak trees with masses of Spanish moss hanging from the branches. A few cranes dot the edge of the water, and nearby a family of turtles are sunbathing on a piece of driftwood.

As many movies as I’ve been in, I’ve never felt more like I’m in a fantasy world.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Kendall says as she digs into her bag and pulls out two sandwiches and some water. “I remembered your order from Bread Crumbs, so I got us some sandwiches.”

We sit on the bench in the rear of the boat. Kendall takes out a water bottle and mists herself to stay cool.

“Do you ever swim in the river?” I ask, noting her bathing suit.

“You’ve seen Bertha. Would you get in this water?”

“Good point. Geez, I hope she isn’t waiting for us when we get back. I didn’t think about bringing something to feed her.”

“Crap. I didn’t think about it either. We’ll hope for the best. Worst case scenario, we take the boat to Patsy’s house and have her drive us home.”

“Was Bertha there the entire time you lived in the house?”

“Yeah, pretty much. That whole area was wooded before they built the subdivision. She’d probably lived there for a while. Patsy’s husband offered to shoot her for me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of it. Besides, he’d just end up stuffing her and putting her in their living room. After a while, I got used to her.”

“You know, you’re right. I find myself assuming I’m going to need a chicken every time I walk outside like it’s no big deal.”

“Yep! She trains you to be her little human vending machine.”

After we eat, we relax on the back of boat. We talk about everything from favorite movies to travel plans to embarrassing childhood memories to how many kids we want (we both said three). Before we raise the anchor, we even make time for some kisses… and more.