Page 41 of That Weekend in Paris
“I can see I’m not going to change your mind about this, but you should think about it, really.”
I laugh a little and shake my head. “Let’s get back to the song we were working on. I think we’ve got something going here.”
“I agree,” he says, strumming out the chords again. He then starts over, singing the words from the beginning. The sound of his voice over the words I had written gives me a thrill I can’t deny. It never gets old, this part, creating something that gets put to music with a beautiful voice delivering it.
As the guitar chords fade into silence, the next line comes to me. I say it out loud. Klein looks up, nods once in agreement, and starts over, adding the line at the end. He throws out the next line, and it’s perfect, better, I think than I would have come up with myself. We keep at it until we’ve got the first verse and part of the chorus. I’m so excited I feel like a little girl at Christmas, anxious to unwrap the next present under the tree and see what it is.
The knock at the door interrupts us. A polite young woman rolls the cart into the room and opens up the side doors to pull out our plates and set them on top of the table. Once she’s done, Klein signs the check, gives her a tip, and she leaves the room, wishing us a good evening.
“This smells so good,” I say.
“It does,” he agrees.
We pull a chair up to the table and start eating, silent for a few moments as we indulge our hunger.
“Oh my gosh,” I say. “Could this be any more delicious?”
“They pretty much make every dish a work of art.”
My salad is exactly that, simple, with greens, shredded carrot, and cherry tomatoes. The dressing is simple as well, a lemon and olive oil vinaigrette, but it is absolutely wonderful. “I could eat five of these,” I say.
Klein smiles. “We can order more if you like.”
“This is plenty, but it is just so good.”
We take our time with the meal, mostly eating in silence, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable. I have to admit I find this surprising, given that I’ve never spent this much time alone with Klein, and he is for sure the most drop-dead gorgeous man I’ve ever known. And while I would expect that to make me tongue-tied and awkward, it doesn’t with him.
“You’re easy to be around,” I say.
He looks up, putting his fork on his plate and smiling. “You sound surprised by that.”
“Well, to be honest, I guess I am a little surprised.”
“Why is that?”
I decide to be completely honest. “You’re a big star, and you have women falling all over you all the time.”
He laughs a little. “Not exactly. Sometimes, I think it was a lot easier when I wasn’t well-known.”
“Why?”
“People are more reluctant to approach you. There’s this thing that they think you’ll rebuff them, and I guess no one wants to experience rejection. It’s not really like that, though,” he says. “I actually like it when people come up to me and tell me what they think about my music or what they’d like to hear me do next. It’s a lonelier life once you get famous.”
“I guess I’m not too surprised by that,” I say. “In a way, it seems like you have kind of everything at your fingertips and people wanting to do things for you, get in your good graces. But at the same time, I’m sure it’s like you said. People are intimidated by fame and what all they think it includes.”
“The thing is,” Klein says, “you’re the same person as you were before. Nothing has changed really, except making a lot more money and finally achieving your dream.”
“That’s a lot,” I say.
“It is. Don’t get me wrong. It doesn’t change who you are, though. It doesn’t take away the insecurities and doubts that plague you before you’re famous. It seems like they would all just be washed away, but they aren’t. I think it’s a little disappointing to people sometimes, actually, when they’re around me long enough to see some of the mystery disappear.”
“Was that how it was with Riley?” I ask.
He’s quiet for a few moments, and then he says, “No. She has all these ideas in her head about the ladder of success and the things you should be doing along the way, the house, the neighborhood, the kind of car you should be driving.”
“And that didn’t work for you?”
“No, not really. I mean, who doesn’t enjoy the finer things in life? I have the ability now to have a lot of them. I’m grateful for that, but as far as obtaining stuff to mark my success on the way, no, that’s never really been me, and I don’t see it being me. It’s not things,” he says, “that are going to make a person happy. Comforts, yeah. I like comfort as well as the next guy, but what’s given me the most happiness so far about whatever financial success I’ve obtained is giving some of it back, especially to the community where I grew up.”
