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Starstruck

Page 18

by Rachel Schurig


  “That’s it,” he snapped, adjusting the fanny pack. “We’re going now.”

  “Wait, what? You’re not going to change?”

  “I absolutely am not.”

  “But, but…look at you.”

  He took a step closer, his face set and determined. “Sofie, I know you seem to think that I’m some kind of clothes snob, too stylish for anything less than Prada—”

  “You are! It’s not just some unfair judgment I’ve made. Jackson, I pack your clothes for these trips. I know what your wardrobe consists of.”

  His eyes narrowed further. “That doesn’t mean I’m incapable of rising to the occasion.”

  He walked to the door of the trailer, leaving me gaping at his back. “Wait, you’re seriously going out like that. Around New York City. In a fanny pack.”

  He raised his chin, his dignified, gorgeous face at complete odds with the schlumpiness of the outfit. “I most assuredly am.”

  And with that, he marched right out of the trailer, leaving me to wonder what in the hell I had gotten him into.

  Chapter Sixteen

  To Sam’s credit, he lasted thirty whole seconds without laughing when we met him and Beth at the hotel. “Uh, you look…different,” he muttered, mouth twitching, as he climbed into the car.

  “I’m going incognito,” Jackson said. “I think I’m pretty good at it.”

  Sam let out a snort. “Um, yes. Pretty good.”

  Jackson merely shook his head. “An actor is always willing to injure his pride for a role.”

  Sam was flat out giggling now, trying to hide his mouth behind Beth’s head. “Is that a fanny pack?”

  I turned to Jackson. “And what role are you playing today, Mr. Serious Actor?”

  “I’m playing the role of normal guy sightseeing,” he said. “And I plan to play it to the best of my ability. Fanny pack included.” He relaxed back into his seat. “Though we really must stop calling it that. Fanny has a completely different meaning in England. So. Where are we headed?”

  I shook my head, not sure if I should be impressed by him or join Sam in snickering. “We’re going for lunch first,” I told him.

  “The Seinfeld restaurant?”

  “Yup.”

  But when we pulled up in front of the restaurant, there was a huge line. “Really?” Sam muttered, rubbing his stomach. “That show ended years ago. What are all these people doing?”

  “I guess the same thing as us.” I looked between him and Jackson. “How hungry are we? Do we want to wait?”

  “Wait?” Jackson asked, sounding blank. “Like, in the queue?”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “If you want to be believable in the role of normal guy sightseeing, you might want to pretend like you’ve actually waited in a line at some point in your life.”

  He looked abashed. “I guess I usually just…you know…get in.”

  “You can put the movie star into a windbreaker,” Sam told Beth seriously. “But you can’t make him a normal guy.”

  “I have another idea,” I said. “Our next stop was going to be Battery Park, right? There are tons of food carts over there. Let’s just grab something quick.”

  “From a food cart?” Jackson practically yelped.

  “Yes, Jackson. From a food cart. Normal people do that occasionally.”

  “But…but…how do you know if it’s, you know…safe. Or good?”

  “Us normal people tend to be more spontaneous,” Sam told him seriously. “And, you know, cheap. Let’s do it.”

  In spite of the clear trepidation on Jackson’s face, I directed Bill to take us to Battery Park. “You’ll be fine,” I assured him. “It’s just a hot dog.”

  I pretended not to notice the way he shuddered.

  His mood seemed to improve once we had actually ordered. I got us all hot dogs, soft pretzels, and cans of soda, and we ate on a park bench under a sunny sky, Beth strapped into her stroller. “This isn’t so bad, you know,” he said, taking a bite of the hot dog. “If I try not to think about it too much…”

  I caught Sam’s eye, and we both snickered.

  “I can’t believe this,” Jackson said after a minute. “Look at all these people passing. And not one of them has noticed me.”

  “Behold the power of the dad jeans.”

  Once we were finished, I pulled a little stack of tickets from my purse. “Okay, looks like the boat dock’s over there.”

  “We’re going in a boat?” Jackson asked, sitting up straighter. He was starting to regain some of the excited gleam in his eyes. “Where to?”

  “We’re going to see the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island,” I explained, suddenly worried he might think the plans were boring. “Sam and I have always wanted to see it…”

  “Sounds great,” Jackson said, standing. “Let’s carry on.”

  “We better hope no one gets close enough to hear him,” Sam breathed into my ear. “He sounds straight out of Harry Potter. No one is going to buy he’s a Midwest tourist if they hear him talking.”

  It was a little difficult, juggling the baby, her stroller, her diaper bag, and the Baby Bjorn onto the ferry, but having three adults there definitely helped. Jackson was eager to practice his baby-holding skills and seemed to have a calming effect on Beth whenever she got fussy. Just like every other girl in the world, I thought, watching as she stared up at him with wide eyes. Totally under his spell.

  “Is it too windy for her out here?” he asked, pulling her blanket up a little to cover her head.

  “I think she’s okay. Sam, did you bring the bear hat? It covers her ears a little better.”

  Sam found the hat in the bag and handed it to me, but Jackson plucked it from my fingers when I moved to put it on her. “I’ve got this, thank you.”

  As I turned away, I saw Sam watching me, shaking his head. Belatedly, I noticed that I was smiling. The soft, ooey-gooey smile of a woman watching a cute guy take care of a baby. I tried to straighten my features, but my cousin only rolled his eyes. Could I be any more obvious?

  When we neared the statue, I forgot my embarrassment. “That’s so cool,” Sam said, leaving the bench to go and stand at the railing, staring up at the iconic landmark.

  I looked at Jackson and he nodded me over. “I’ll take some pictures of you two.”

  So I joined Sam at the rail, and Jackson, balancing Beth in one arm, took our picture. “Let’s get the girl in here,” Sam said. “This is part of her heritage, too.”

  We took turns holding Beth and taking pictures. “Don’t you want one?” I asked Jackson. “Just because you aren’t a Yankee doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get a picture. It’s a pretty famous landmark.”

  I watched the confliction on his face for a moment before I finally burst into laughter. “Oh my God. You don’t want your picture taken in that outfit, do you?”

  When he just shot me a sheepish smile, I grabbed his arm, pulling him to the railing. “You do realize that I’m going to take as many pictures of you as possible now, don’t you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “If you try to sell any of them, I will make it my mission to destroy you and your entire family.”

  We got off the boat at Liberty Island so we could see the statue up close before re-boarding for the ride to Ellis Island. I couldn’t help but feel a little solemn as we approached the red-bricked building, and I knew that Sam was feeling the same way. Our family may not have come to the country this way, but the immigrant story hit us both close to home.

  We wandered through the exhibit downstairs. Beth had fallen asleep on the last leg of the boat trip, so I had moved her to the Baby Bjorn where she could nap close to me. I paused in front of a display featuring an artist’s rendition of a woman in a nearly identical pose—holding her baby in her arms.

  “It’s hard to imagine,” Jackson murmured, coming to stand next to me. “Crossing the ocean with nothing but the clothes on your back, no job or family waiting for you, no real idea what you’re going to find on the other sid
e. It seems like such a big risk.”

  “My grandparents on both sides did that… Well, not crossing the ocean. They came from Mexico. But neither of them had any family here yet. They had no money, no papers. Just themselves.” I let my words trail away as I wondered, for the hundredth time, whether I would have been brave enough to do that.

  “Sounds really brave to me,” Jackson said softly, once again seeming to read my thoughts. “I’ve never done anything half so courageous.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “Oh, come off it,” he said, sounding surprised. “You had a baby all on your own!”

  I rubbed the top of Beth’s soft head. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a lot of choice once the test came back.”

  “Of course you did. Things could have gone a dozen different ways, Sofie. You chose to make a life for yourself and your daughter. I think you’re incredibly brave.”

  I looked up from Beth’s head to see that he was staring at me intently, his eyes as sincere as I had ever seen them. Normally, I would have argued, would have made some self-deprecating joke, but something in his eyes stopped me. “Thank you,” I said, my voice soft. “That means a lot.”

  He rewarded me with one of those breathtaking smiles, the kind that abruptly reminds you of just how blue his eyes are, how gorgeous his lips are. I had to turn away so I wouldn’t lean over and kiss him, right there in the exhibit, Sam only feet away.

  When he next spoke, his voice was slightly shaky, and I wondered if he had noticed the sudden shift in my mood, if he could sense the reason for it. “I don’t think I met your grandparents at Christmas.”

  “Most of them have passed. My mom’s mom moved back to Mexico after she lost her husband, to be close to her sister. I haven’t seen her in years.”

  “Were you close with the others? The ones who stayed here?”

  I nodded. “We lived with them, for a while. Before we moved out of the city.”

  Jackson didn’t respond as we moved to the next display. “I think that’s amazing,” he finally said, voice soft. “The way you’re all so close. It’s… Well, it’s quite different from anything I had growing up.”

  I frowned. How had it taken me this long to notice that Jackson never talked about his parents?

  “You don’t talk about that much,” I said cautiously, my eyes on his face for his reaction. “Did you always live in London?”

  “We had a house in London, yes. I spent most of my time at the country house, though. Surrey.” He gave a sheepish little smile. “Until I went to boarding school, at least.”

  Wow. So Jackson hadn’t come into his wealth purely through his own celebrity—he had clearly been raised very upper class. No wonder he thought it was such a novelty to run around the city and pretend to be a normal guy.

  “What do your parents do?”

  “They own a financial services company in the City. And despair over the fact that their only child became something so unrefined as an actor.” He was chuckling a bit as he said it, but I couldn’t help but note the undercurrent of bitterness in his voice.

  “I’m sure they’re proud of you.”

  The forced laughter immediately cut off. “I can assure you, Sofie, they are not.”

  The bitterness was no longer an undercurrent. What a terrible way to feel about your own parents, I thought. I tried to imagine any future circumstance under which I wouldn’t be proud of Beth. I couldn’t find one.

  “Then they’re seriously misguided,” I said.

  He didn’t smile, didn’t respond in any way, just continued on to the next display.

  “Jackson.”

  He turned to me, his lips barely upturned. “It’s okay, Sofie. I’ve come to terms with it. A long time ago.” The sadness in his eyes told me he wasn’t being entirely truthful.

  “Have they… They’ve told you this?”

  “They’ve made their feeling perfectly clear. Do you know how much they spent on my education? They’ll tell you the first chance they get. All money wasted, according to them.”

  “How could it have been wasted? Look at how well you’ve done!”

  “Yes, but I never went to University. I cashed in on my good looks and my charm, as far as they’re concerned. Not much to be proud of.”

  I was shaking my head before he was finished talking. “Jackson, you’re a fantastic businessman. Look at the way you handle your endorsements. And the clothing line. You have a whole staff reporting to you. Dozens of people on your payroll. And you keep it all organized and running smoothly. You work so hard. You’re amazing.”

  I didn’t realize how passionate my voice had grown until I caught sight of his face. He was looking at me closely, as if trying to determine if I was serious or not. Then he reached for my hand and squeezed it gently, once, before letting go. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “Of…of course. I meant it.”

  His smile grew slightly less anemic before he turned to examine the display. We both read the captions in silence. I felt a little embarrassed by my outburst.

  “They were always so busy,” he finally said, staring straight ahead. “They were never home. I saw my nanny and my tutors way more than I saw them. They sent me to boarding school when I was only eight.”

  Eight years old. Damn.

  “I have to think that must have been very hard.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t like there was much at home that I missed, you know?” He shot me a quick, very fake smile that looked more like a grimace. “We never had a bunch of cousins running around, or aunts and uncles I could talk to when I needed help. At least at boarding school there was some noise.”

  And people to talk to, I thought, feeling my heart twist at the thought of a very lonely, quiet little Jackson.

  “Come on,” he said, nodding ahead. “We’ve gotten way behind Sam.”

  I followed him to where Sam was standing, the conversation effectively ended, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said. A lot of things about him were starting to make more sense. The way he always wanted to surround himself with people, even people he admittedly didn’t like very much. The little glimpses of self-doubt I had picked up on. The way he always seemed so fascinated by my family.

  He’s lonely. He’s so lonely, he can barely stand it.

  I couldn’t imagine going through life that way. Without a family, without those roots to ground me. As much as they drove me crazy at times, there was something incredibly comforting in knowing that they were always there. I never had to doubt my place with them, never had to doubt that they were concerned about me, that they would welcome me. That they would care for Beth if something happened to me. Not just my parents or Carla, either. Look at how close I was with Sam, with Lizzie.

  What would it be like to not have that?

  No wonder he wanted to spend Christmas with us, I thought, following him and Sam up to the second level.

  And then it hit me—I finally understood the reason behind his attraction to me. I had never been able to figure out why a guy like Jackson would be interested in a girl like me, but suddenly, it was all very clear. The stark reality of it sent a sharp pain through my chest. I had the family he had always wanted, but never had. My life was basically the complete opposite of his. Acting like a normal guy wasn’t the novelty—I was.

  The awareness of how much I cared about him washed over me like a tidal wave. I could barely breathe, because suddenly, the idea that he only liked me for what I represented made me feel sick to my stomach. All of my talk about not wanting to bring another guy into my life, all of my insistence that we just be friends—it was bullshit. I wanted him to like me. But I didn’t want him to like me for my family. I didn’t want to be a novelty.

  I wanted us to be something real.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I spent the rest of the day trying to push those negative thoughts from my mind. It shouldn’t matter, I told myself, over and over again. You don’t want a relationship with him, anyway. Che
er up. He deserves to enjoy this day. So does Sam. So do you.

  By the time we made it back to the boat, I had actually started to believe it.

  After Ellis Island, we moved into the second phase of my plan. I had sent Bill and the car away after he dropped us off at Battery Park, because we wouldn’t be needing transportation anymore. I had purchased us all tickets for one of the Hop-On Hop-Off buses that made its way around the city. It seemed like just the cheesy, touristy kind of thing Jackson wanted to try. I had guessed right. He insisted we sit on the open-air top section and spent most of the time listening to the recorded tour guide on the headphones provided by the tour company.

  “A step down from your noise-canceling Bose ones, eh?” I asked, but he merely grinned happily and pointed at his ears, indicating that he couldn’t hear me.

  We got off the bus at Times Square so we could wander around and take pictures. It was crowded with tourists, and I was glad Beth was in her baby carrier. Even so, I brought my arms up around her and kept them there until we were finally back on the bus. The tour continued, and we snapped pictures of the library, Grand Central, and the UN building, where I insisted we get off and take a picture of Jackson standing under the flag of the United Kingdom.

  We did the tourist thing again in midtown, stopping outside 30 Rock and the Ed Sullivan Theater to take pictures. I remembered that Jackson had been on Letterman just a few short weeks ago and made sure to get a shot of him standing under the marquee in his new get-up, teasing him about the difference.

  By the time we reached FAO Schwarz, Beth had had enough of our sightseeing. We’d stopped several times for diaper changes and for feedings, but she was tired of both her stroller and the carrier. And probably all the noise and crowds, as well.

  “I guess I won’t be getting her that giant bear I had my eyes on,” Jackson said, nodding his head in the direction of a stuffed toy the size of my bed.

  I snorted. “Yeah, cause that would totally fit in our suitcase.”

  “I wanted to see the trains,” Sam said wistfully as we made our way to the front of the store.

  “Sorry, buddy. You’ll have to come back on your own.”

 

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