“What are we doing today? Before golf?”
“Spending the day together, are we?”
“Stop acting like you don’t already know this. We have a week, Indie.”
Her face falls enough for me to notice the change. “You’re definitely staying out there then?”
“For a while.”
“Then what?”
“It depends on what comes up. I want to keep working.”
“Yeah, of course.” Her solemn expression disappears with a blink. “You’re clearly good at it. Do you know how many women are gushing over you from Quarantine’s trailer alone?”
I shrug, still not quite used to all the attention. I can’t walk down the street without being asked to pose for selfies in LA. My notifications are off the chart every day, and Denny is busy fielding calls in his shiny office. Jared takes care of everything I need on the ground—the same ground as me because he has to be wherever I am.
I’ve reached a level of fame where you can’t be trusted to get yourself to an appointment.
Not this week, though. I’m here alone. We both get a break.
“Come on, I still need that coffee,” she says, tugging on my arm until I follow her.
“Hey, love,” Mum says to Indie, putting two mugs on the counter and giving Indie a quick hug. “I hope you’re hungry. Andrew has cooked enough for a small town.”
Dad grumbles something about the lack of help Mum has been, and he cracks an egg into a pan.
“I’m starving. This smells so good.” Indie says.
While my parents dish up, Indie and I sip coffee by the counter.
“What is that?” she asks, looking around me.
I groan. “Nothing.”
“No way, it’s a poster of you!”
She’s far too amused by this. I don’t think her grin could be any wider.
“Oh, funny, isn’t it?” Mum stops by us with a serving platter of sausages and bacon. “Mary down the road dropped it by first thing. Her granddaughter is a huge fan, apparently. Spencer signed it for her.” She quickly disappears into the dining room, leaving me with Indie again.
Her eyes meet mine. “Wow. There are posters of you.”
“I swear to God, if you get one…”
She laughs. “Oh, I’m absolutely getting one.”
“Indie,” I groan.
“You’re pouting in it.” She tries to grab it again, but I block her.
When her body presses against mine as she tries to wriggle around me, I almost forget what we’re doing. I don’t get to touch her nearly enough.
I grab the poster and lift it above my head.
“Try seeing it now, shorty.”
Stepping back with a frown, she folds her arms the way she’s done a thousand times before when I’ve held something out of her reach. “No fair, you always use your height. Doesn’t matter, though. I will never forget those sultry eyes and pouty lips. I bet that granddaughter kisses that poster every night.”
“Have you finished?”
“Not even close.”
“I have to do stuff like that. Photoshoots are part of the package.” I put the poster face down on the counter behind me.
I remember the shoot. It was about a year ago, when Denny booked a fuckload of appearances and shoots to push my ‘image’. We released some short backstage videos from set, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t leave the apartment without Jared.
She grins. “Yes, and you have clearly accentuated your package.”
“Are you insinuating that I stuffed a sock down there?”
“Not at all. No one could fit anything else down those tight jeans.”
“All right, that’ll do.”
“Do you think they sell them on Amazon?”
I grab her wrist as she goes for her bag. “You can be uninvited, you know.”
“Oh, please!”
Sighing, I shake my head, pretending to be discouraged. That couldn’t be the furthest from the truth. Being here with her, messing around—even at my expense—is like walking on water.
I cannot stop smiling.
“This has made my day, Spence.”
“Glad it’s made you happy.”
We carry our coffees to the dining room with her smirking over her shoulder every few steps.
She is so tempting.
“I wonder how many teenage girls stare at you on their wall.”
“You need food.”
We sit with my parents and eat breakfast. It’s so normal and familiar. I had no idea how much I’d missed it.
Indie occasionally looks at me and laughs around her bacon. I should have taken the damn poster back straight away, and I fucking swear down, everything in my jeans is my own. I won’t be telling her that I had to peel the jeans off and almost had to cut them from my heels after that shoot.
What am I going to do when I don’t have her teasing me over breakfast again? I’m not sure how I’m going to make myself get on that plane. I should have let Jared come with me. I’ll have to go back. You can’t stay somewhere just for your best friend. What would I do here? I can’t hang out with Indie all day. She’ll eventually graduate and start her counselling career. She might even move to the city.
I’ll never be happy doing anything other than acting. It’s in my blood.
We’re doomed to be side stories in each other’s movies.
Indie finishes her breakfast and slumps back in her seat. “I’m so full. That was amazing.”
“I almost forgot how much you can eat.”
“I don’t know how anyone could give up whole food groups.”
No one in LA eats like Indie. Ella will love her.
I’ve not eaten like that in months. I’ve been on a strict diet—Ella’s diet—working out five times a week, and sometimes more. The camera adds ten pounds and all that. I have a well-defined six pack now but it almost killed me getting it.
“I think I’m set for the rest of the weekend,” she tells me.
“What do you two have planned today?” Mum asks. “Dad and I are going antiquing.”
I do a double take. “That’s ridiculous, Mum. Everything in this house is from IKEA.”
Indie laughs and taps the Norden table that took three hours to assemble. We were dumb seventeen-year olds when we offered to make it. Indie threw the instructions, and I almost took the fucking thing outside to burn
