Page 90 of Anyone But the Superstar

‘Hope you don’t mind.’ Trish sets the computer between us and flips it open. ‘I didn’t wanna put you on the spot asking you for them because I wasn’t sure if you were legally allowed to, so—’ she lifts her slim shoulders ‘—I went straight to the source.’ She turns the laptop to me, my storyboards already on screen. ‘Ilovethem.’

My chest, feeling battered after everything that happened with Felix since last night and shaky from nerves, warms at her compliment.

‘I’m a bit of an Asian pop culture nerd. I love all the graphic novels that have come out recently. They remind me of manga, even though the modern ones are all in color.’ Pulling out romance book after romance book from her bag, she stacks them on the table. ‘I’m interested in turningallmy romance novels into webcomics. And when I saw your work—’ she pauses to point to the computer screen ‘—IknewI wanted you to do it.’

I eye the considerable stack of books, feeling both excited and overwhelmed. ‘Me?’

‘Yes.’ Finished, Trish resituates herself on her chair. ‘Whew.’ She exhales a long breath, resting both palms on her belly. ‘Being pregnant really takes a lot out of you.’

Flagging down a waitress, I ask for water to be brought to the table.

‘Thanks.’ Seemingly recovered enough to resume talking, Trish points to her computer again. ‘I think what you did with the storyboards isexactlywhat I had in mind for the manga.’

Looking at my work from a different perspective, I can see what Trish means. While the compositions were driven by required camera angles and the finished storyboards aren’t asclean of a finished project as I would normally make, they do tell a story. Trish’s story. ‘I never considered being a webcomic artist.’

‘Well, now that you have—’ Trish props one elbow on the table, leaning toward me ‘—what do you think about it?’ Her elbow slips off the edge, her belly having prevented her from sitting close enough to the table. ‘Oops.’ She giggles her jingle-bell laugh.

I can’t help but smile with her.

I like Trish. She’s genuine. Nice. And a talented writer. And now that she’s planted the idea of being a webcomic artist, it feels…right.

Although I haven’t enjoyed the Hollywood nonsense involved in my internship, Ihaveenjoyed the work. Drawing all day and getting paid for it. Creating art from words on a page. It made me feel like the talent I have, the talent that Stanley Moore always said was useless, is actually worth something.

My smile, unrestrained and engaging every muscle in my face, stretches the corners of my mouth. ‘I think I would really, really like it.’

Trish claps. ‘Great!’

The two of us spend the next thirty minutes discussing her books, timelines, and costs. Afterwards, she insists I take all of her romances home. She even signs them for me.

Pulling my tablet out of my bag to make room for the books, I lay it on the table. ‘I don’t have my hard copy portfolio with me, but I save most of my work on this.’ I click the screen open and hand it to her. ‘I know you liked the style of what I did with the storyboards, but you can compare it to the other things I’ve done in case you see something else you like.’

Trish lights up over the drawing I did of my niece Mary holding King Richard. ‘I should start implementing more animalsidekicks into my novels.’ She swipes right, moving through the images I’ve saved.

Still lifes, portraits, the cartoon I made of Mike Hunt in space.

She snorts at the one with Mike on the spaceship. ‘These are great.’

Feeling a little embarrassed over the praise, I busy myself and take a sip of water.

‘Oh.’ Her fingers pause over the screen, her brown eyes meeting mine over my water glass. ‘Ireallylike this one.’ She sounds like she’s holding back laughter.

Placing the glass back on the table, I lean forward. And when I see what’s there, my mouth drops.

Felix in his blue apron.

I’m surprised there’s no smoke pouring from my lips because my insides are combusting from embarrassment.

I’d forgotten that I used my tablet to take pictures of my sketch book. I transfer the drawings I’ve done into my illustration app to save time online work when I want to convert the sketches into a digital file.

Which is why Trish, looking more amused than shocked, is holding a tablet showcasing my deprived inner fantasies of a Hollywood action star.

‘I love how the sky blue of his apron contrasts with the deeper, olive tones of his skin,’ Trish says, turning the tablet back to her. ‘You have a gift for color.’

‘I, ah…’

Trish laughs at whatever expression I’m making. ‘I take it you didn’t mean for me to see this?’ She pats my hand. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll pretend I didn’t.’ Returning to the tablet, she swipes again. ‘Oh.’ Trish’s cheeks match her lips. ‘Maybe I should just hand this back to you.’

She clicks the screen off, but not before I remember what else I transferred to my tablet.

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