Page 48 of Take It Till You Make It
“Oh, man, I’m truly sorry,” Crispin replies. “I was just picking up a friend and couldn’t find a place either. Really bad luck that I chose the single place that wouldn’t be open for the five minutes I was inside.”
“Most people just text,” the guy says. “Hurry up, that’s my sister now.”
“Consider me gone.”
“Wait a minute. Are you? Holy…you’re Crispin Moore. What are you doing in my parking place? What am I saying? Who cares that you’re in my spot? You’re flipping Crispin Moore. Dude, can I get a selfie with you?”
I laugh and sit back while Crispin accommodates the guy.
“It’s the least I can do for the inconvenience. Would your sister like to join us?”
The guy snaps a couple selfies of the two of them leaning in toward each other. Crispin is a lot taller, so he hunches to be in the frame.
“Sandy! Sandy! Come here. It’s fricking Crispin Moore! Come get a picture.”
I see Crispin scan our surroundings, likely hoping the guy’s bellowing doesn’t draw more people in besides his sister.
“Are you fricking kidding me?” Sandy climbs out of her car, which she leaves right where she was waiting for us. “I’m such a huge fan of yours. I’ve seen all your movies. But my favorite isGoodbye Song. Cried like a baby when your girlfriend died.”
Sandy doesn’t stop sharing her favorite scene from each of Crispin’s movies while she stands between him and her brother, as her brother continues to snap selfies. I consider climbing out and offering to take a real photo, but honestly, I don’t want them to know I’m the one who knows Crispin Moore. They’d probably show up on my doorstep daily, asking questions about him.
When the photo session finally ends, Crispin shakes their hands and apologizes for taking the spot, then hops into the car. I keep my head down, hoping they can’t get a good enough look at me. As he backs out of the spot, he waves and smiles a couple more times.
Finally driving away, he whistles. “What ironic timing that was.”
“You just made their day, though.”
“Honestly, I’d rather be recognized than pummeled any day. I really thought that guy was going to pound me for taking his spot.”
“It would have been tragic if he hadn’t recognized you and instead ruined that pretty face.”
“I knew you thought I was pretty.” His pleased expression makes me laugh.
I study him. “Honestly, you aren’t. There are men who I would say are pretty, but you have a roguishness about you that defies that description.”
“Oh, you think I’m ruggedly handsome? That’s even better.”
“Not rugged, per se. More like a London street rat.”
The way his expression folds up makes me burst into laughter.
He huffs a couple of times. “I don’t even understand what that means.”
“I’m not going to try to describe it. That expression is way too much fun.”
“Wow, Ari. You have a mean streak. Who would have thought such a tiny girl could pack such an emotional wallop?”
“Who knew your self-esteem was so easily bruised?” I snicker as I watch nighttime beachgoers out my window. I point at a bride and groom with their wedding party getting pictures taken on the sand. “Oh, fun. And sweet!”
Crispin nods, a smile curving his lips. “I love when a bride and groom fill their wedding with the things they love instead of following tradition because it’s expected. Everybody in flip-flops. The surfboards in the background. It’s clear the couple are surf junkies. Maybe the bride wore heels for the ceremony, but she’s showing her true colors now.”
“It is fun.”
“What kind of wedding will you have?”
I startle like he zapped me with a taser. “I’ve literally never thought about it.”
“You haven’t?” He sounds stunned.
