Heidi's Guide to Four Letter Words(20)

Sharleen’s eyes are so wide they’re on the verge of popping out of her head, and her hand is pressed tightly to her throat, like she’s clutching an imaginary set of pearls after what she just heard. Aunt Margie is practically panting like a dog as she blatantly looks him up and down, probably taking mental notes about the things that Jameson said and compiling a list of questions for him on the subject. Me? I’m just standing here cringing.

Jameson quickly ends his call and shoves his phone in his back pocket when he gets next to me, giving Sharleen and Aunt Margie a heart-stopping smile as he gently bumps his shoulder against mine in greeting.

“Heidi, why didn’t you tell me you had two gorgeous sisters?” Jameson asks.

Aunt Margie snorts, because she knows he’s full of crap, but Sharleen actually titters with glee, her cheeks blushing as she brings her hands up to her head and tries to neaten her hair with her palms.

I make quick introductions, watching in fascination as Sharleen giggles through her handshake with Jameson, and clearing my throat loudly to get my aunt to let go of his hand after clutching it for an uncomfortable length of time.

“Well, we better get inside. Lots of work to do,” I say with a smile, grabbing Jameson’s elbow and pulling him toward the door of EdenMedia before Aunt Margie thinks it would be a great idea to ask him about the phone conversation we overheard.

Wait! What am I doing? Am I seriously manhandling a Hollywood movie star?

I should let go of his arm. He can walk by himself without me pulling him. And yet, I can’t bring myself to let go. Now that I’ve grabbed onto him, it would be weird to immediately drop his arm like it’s on fire, right? And apologize for just reaching out and grabbing him all willy-nilly like he’s an unruly child, and not like he’s a famous person whom I barely know? Yes, that would be weird and awkward.

Oh look! We’re already at the door. The voices in my head can stop arguing now.

“It sure was lovely meeting you, Jameson!” Sharleen gushes. “Heidi, I’ll be sure to tell your mother what an… interesting job you have.”

I sigh in defeat and hang my head. “Have a good day, kiddo!” my aunt shouts to my back as Jameson and I turn around and he opens the door for me. “You should use the back door next time. I’ve heard it’s much more thrilling going in the back way.”

Jameson chuckles as I quickly walk past him and into the office, shaking my head with a groan.

“I guess it’s my turn to apologize. But look on the bright side. Your aunt is hilarious,” he says as he follows me over to the front desk and I stow my purse in one of the drawers.

“Oh, it’s fine! No big deal!”

Jameson slowly shakes his head at me with a grin.

“You’re too nice. My wife would have already threatened to chop off my balls if I said something like that in front of people she knew, without realizing they were standing there.”

A tiny smile forms on my lips as an idea begins to bloom. “How soon before she gets here?” I ask eagerly.

“That’s who I was on the phone with. Her plane just landed, so she’ll be here as soon as her Uber driver finds the place.”

Boldness and self-confidence, here I come! As long as my mom doesn’t kill me first.





Chapter 10





“It wasn’t that bad. You were adorably drunk. And look! You had seven more views on the second podcast than you did the first one. It’s pretty rare for someone to be absolutely amazing at something the first time they do it. You just need more practice.”

Aubrey Kenter, aka Penelope Sharp, aka Jameson’s wife, hands my phone back to me in the break room at EdenMedia, where she convinced me to let her listen to my podcasts. I met her exactly an hour ago when she burst through the front doors and flew into Jameson’s arms, where I practically swooned in my chair behind the desk, watching them reunite after being apart for several weeks while Jameson was filming. After they broke apart and Jameson introduced us, he disappeared into a recording booth and Aubrey dragged me in here for some girl talk.

Just like with her husband, I immediately felt at ease with her—like I’d known her for years. Since Jameson had already told her a little bit about me and my recent dilemma of being unable to do anything about the crush I have on Brent, I filled her in on the rest, including how unhappy I’ve been with my life, and that if we hear a fifty-six-year-old woman screaming from the reception area, “Heidi Marie Larson, come here right this minute!” we should run and hide in the nearest closet. Which then led to her convincing me to pull up my podcasts, where I covered my ears and hummed the tune of “Mary Had a Little Lamb” until she was finished.

What surprises me the most about Aubrey is how… normal she is. I’ve seen pictures of her and Jameson on red carpets over the years, and she’s always looked so stunning and glamorous. She sits across the small, circular table wearing an oversized Cleveland Indians sweatshirt and a pair of ratty jeans. Her long blonde hair is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun with strands falling out all over the place like she just woke up from a nap, and she’s not wearing a stitch of makeup. She’s definitely pretty, but I don’t feel like I thought I would sitting next to her—small, and inconsequential, and boring, and like an ugly troll who could never catch the eye of her handsome neighbor. I feel like I’m on even footing with her. Like, if we were both out in public somewhere, a man’s eyes wouldn’t immediately dismiss me and latch onto her.