Page 25 of The Princess and the Paparazzi
I barely got two hours of sleep on Kenna’s lumpy futon before dragging my ass back to this place. But that’s fine. As a working actress, I’m used to early call times and faking it on little to no sleep. I can do this. It’s a small price to pay to experience what it’s like to be a regular person.
The smell of coffee and pastries, bacon, and fresh-squeezed oranges helps. It’s comforting and familiar. This, if anything, is the real smell of my childhood kitchens. The actual kitchens in whatever apartment near the studio the momager rented smelled like cleaning products and old Formica. But there was always a diner nearby where we would stop on our way to work.
By 8 a.m., there’s a line snaking out the front door of the diner, and I am fascinated by the people coming in. None of them recognize me. Well, none of them recognize who I really am. Several of them seem to recognize “Kenna.” It’s working!
“Hey, Kenna. The usual,” a pretty, brown-haired woman says absentmindedly to me. “Actually, make it extra strong? I’m on deadline for an article and need all the caffeine I can get.” She tosses her curls and digs around in her massive satchel before pulling out a pen and a notebook. “Just got an idea. I don’t want to forget it!” she says, rapidly scrawling something in her moleskin notebook.
“Are you sure you don’t want a mocha macchiato?” I say hopefully, suggesting the one drink I’ve mastered, which happens to be the only coffee drink I really enjoy. It’s basically cocoa with a shot of espresso. I point at the chalkboard sign by the register on which I’ve written:
Switch it up! Swap your regular coffee drink for a mocha macchiato today! Only $2!
I’m pretty proud of myself for coming up with this idea. I figure I can just watch some YouTube tutorials to figure out how to make all the other ones.
“Mocha macchiato? For me? You think?” She eyes me suspiciously, then shrugs. “Okay, sure, why not. If you’re suggesting it, it’s probably the right way to go. Got any interesting pastries today?” She glances sideways at the pastry case that I filled earlier with a variety of goodies from the local artisanal bakery. I consider her carefully. This part is easy.
“You should try the carrot cake donuts,” I suggest. “They’re new.”
“Okay, sure. Add it to my order,” she says.
The next three customers order plain, old, drip coffee, but when they overhear me suggesting items from the pastry case, they groggily ask me for recommendations. Carlos, the old guy who seems to do pretty much everything around here, rings them up, and the line starts to move faster.
There’s a pretty even mix of men and women, most of them in casual clothes. A police officer comes in, oozing authority and self-importance. His eyes do a sweep of the surroundings like he’s looking for a perp. But then they settle on me. “Morning, Kenna,” he smirks. “Late night last night?”
Something clicks. Kenna mentioned something about a married cop messaging her on a dating app, wanting a three-way.
“Oh, you know …” I shrug. “Things got really interesting with this girl I met.” I lower my lashes and conjure a blush onto my face, knowing that the real Kenna would probably never wind this jerk up. But how can I resist?
“What?” His eyes pop wide, and his face explodes into an expression of hungry delight. Bingo! “You and anothergirl? Who is it? Anyone I know?” He leans in closer and speaks in a lower tone. “Anyone I’d like to get to know? You know I’m open …”
He’s handsome-ish, if you like the short, brawny types, but I can’t help but notice his morning breath and the stray hairs between his eyebrows. But more than that, it’s the dullness behind his eyes. He’s not the brightest bulb.
“Sorry, Jed,” I say, pushing a cup of coffee at him. “I don’t think she’d be into you. You’re not her type.”
“But you and me matched.” He juts his chin out, staring at my boobs.
“Yeah, there must have been a glitch in the app,” I say. “Oh hey, you should try the strawberry tartlets, by the way. They are really good. The strawberries are super juicy this season.”
His eyes light up, and I can practically hear his stomach rumbling. Such a simple creature, this one. I can’t help him with his carnal appetites, but at least I can send him off satisfied with something.
I’m feeling pretty confident once I’ve got the line shortened down enough that it no longer snakes out the front door. The rush slows a bit, and the short-order cook and the waitress settle into a sort of dance between the tables and the kitchen. If Carlos suspects anything, he doesn’t say so. He chats up each customer patiently as he rings them up, and I file away the tidbits that I overhear for future use.
Just when I think I’m done with the morning rush, the bell on the door rings, and a tall, wolfish, floppy-haired man with a trekking stick in one hand and a briefcase in the other limps in.
“Morning, everyone!” He waves, taking a seat on a swiveling stool at the counter.
“Morning, Noah!” the waitress announces. “Be right with you!”
“No hurry.” He waves her off, then reaches into the briefcase and pulls out a padded laptop case. He takes out the laptop slowly and carefully polishes the screen with a microfiber cloth.
“Can I get you anything to drink, Noah?” I ask, thanking the waitress for inadvertently giving me his name.
“I’ll just have a regular cup of coffee for now. Thanks, Kenna.” He smiles warmly and familiarly at me. Those medium-brown eyes of his are just like melted chocolate, and I love how swoopy his upper lip is. His brows could use a quick cleanup, but nothing so serious as the cop earlier.
“Oh, and I have something for you.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a folder. Long, strong fingers, clean nails. No ring. I have to wonder why Kenna didn’t mention this guy in her briefing. He seems really nice.
“I know you said you had it covered, but I was curious for myself, too. I did a little research on the latest DSLR cameras. There are several new ones on the market that aren’t prohibitively expensive. But if your heart is set on the Sony, I think you should just rent it. I’d hate to see you give up a great opportunity just because you’re embarrassed by your equipment.”
“Thanks for doing this research for me, Noah.” I smile at him and take the folder. The contents are bound, and flipping through it, I can see he’s highlighted a few cameras and made notes. “Very thoughtful.”
