Rendezvous

by Zondervan

  When Paige puts in the movie, I offer to be the cleanup crew. As I clear the table and fill the dishwasher, I catch glimpses of the movie, which is actually pretty funny. Then the phone rings in the kitchen and, not wanting it to interrupt Mom’s movie, I quickly answer it. To my surprise, it’s my old friend Lionel Stevens.

  “Am I interrupting anything?” he asks me.

  “No.” I move deeper into the kitchen so that the movie-watchers can’t hear me. “Just cleaning up after dinner.”

  “I tried your cell phone and it seemed to be on voicemail, so I thought I’d try your home phone. I actually wondered if you and Paige might be off doing a show somewhere.”

  I fill him in on our upcoming Paris trip, but as I speak, I’m wondering why he called. Ever since I started doing more things with Blake, Lionel has treated me almost like a stranger. At first it hurt my feelings, then I realized that it might’ve been his way of showing me that I’d hurt him too. I guess that’s just a hazard of being good friends with the opposite sex.

  “So…you’re probably curious about why I’m calling…”

  “Yeah, I am. I mean, it’s been awhile.”

  “Well, I’m not sure if you and Blake are in an exclusive sort of relationship and—”

  “No,” I say quickly. “It’s nothing like that. Mostly we’re just good friends.” Okay, that might be a bit of an understatement. But the truth is we’re not that serious. Although Blake has really been there for me these past few months, I still have a slight reservation when I remember how he broke my heart a year ago.

  “So, anyway, I have tickets to a premiere tomorrow night. It’s Andy Dresden’s film, the one about—”

  “The film that’s set in Nepal?” I ask eagerly. Lionel and I assisted him in some of the editing to earn extra credit for a film class.

  “Yeah. It’s called Edge and it’s supposed to be pretty good. It even won an award last month.”

  “I’d love to go!”

  “Great.” Lionel’s voice lightens. “How about if I pick you up around seven thirty. Well, unless you’d like to grab a bite to eat first. It might be fun to catch up a little.”

  “That does sound like fun,” I tell him. “I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to.”

  “Then, let’s say around six thirty.”

  “It’s a deal.” Okay, I know that sounds lame, but I almost said it’s a date then stopped myself. I’m not even sure why I didn’t want to say it was a date. I guess I feel slightly guilty about Blake now. Although, to be fair, I’ve made it pretty clear to him that we’re not actually a couple. Not yet anyway…and, who knows, maybe never. And I really do want to see Andy Dresden’s film. But, just to be on the safe side, I decide to gently let Blake know what’s up. It seems the right and mature thing to do.

  So I finish in the kitchen then go to my room to call Blake. “How’d the French dinner go?” he asks.

  “It was pretty good,” I tell him. “Mom really liked it. They’re watching the movie now.”

  “But you’re not?”

  “I’m taking a break.”

  “To call me?” he says happily.

  “Yeah…well, Lionel Stevens just called me, and he invited me to go to a premiere with him. It’s this film that’s set in Nepal that a friend of ours produced and Lionel and I did some editing on it last fall and it won some international award and anyway I told Lionel I’d go.” This pours out of my mouth all at once, and probably sounds a bit uneasy, which for some reason I am.

  “Oh…?”

  “And, I don’t know, I just wanted to let you know.”

  “Uh-huh. When is the premiere?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, all right.” His tone becomes kind of disinterested and suddenly I feel totally lame for calling. Like why did I think I needed to inform Blake? I don’t need his permission to attend a premiere. It’s not like we’re a real couple. I must sound like an idiot. But the truth is I’m not used to this. This is the kind of problem Paige usually has. Last year I felt like such a reject—Blake’s reject. I honestly thought no guy would ever be interested in me again. And now there are two?

  “So anyway,” I say quickly, “I wanted to let you know. I should get back to the movie now.” We both say an awkward good-bye and I wonder: Am I imagining things, or did I just make a total fool of myself? I try not to think about that as I watch the second half of To Catch a Thief with Mom and Paige and Jon. And that ends up being easier than I thought it would be. In fact, I’m surprised that the movie is kind of interesting, in an Alfred Hitchcock retro sort of way.

  Then, as Cary Grant and Grace Kelly are bantering back and forth in a convertible, I can’t help glancing over at my sister then back to the screen. Finally, I can’t stand it—I have to say something.

  “Mom,” I begin quietly, “do you think Grace Kelly looks like anyone we know?”

  Mom chuckles. “I didn’t want to mention it, but yes.”

  Jon nods. “I can see it too.”

  “Who do you mean?” Paige asks, oblivious.

  I roll my eyes at her.

  Paige looks suspiciously at us. “You guys think she looks like me?”

  Mom makes an innocent shrug and Jon just grins.

  “There’s a slight resemblance,” I say nonchalantly. Now, this is a total understatement. I grab the remote and put the movie on pause, leaving Grace Kelly looking over her shoulder, with her pink scarf frozen in the wind.

  “We don’t want you getting a big head, Paige,” Mom says in a teasing tone. “But, yes, Erin’s right. There’s a striking resemblance.”

  “There really is,” Jon agrees. “It’s no wonder the camera loves you.”

  Paige leans closer to the TV, studying the frozen shot of Grace Kelly and a slow smile creeps onto her face. “Wow, thanks, you guys. Grace is so beautiful. That is a compliment.” She throws her head back and laughs. “And, hey, I even have the Kelly bag too.”

  “So maybe you should cut your hair to look more like hers,” I suggest. Okay, I’m teasing now, probably to get back at her for suggesting I change my hair to look like Audrey Hepburn.

  “You know, that’s not a bad idea.” She grins at me. “I will if you will.”

  “Yeah, right.” I toss her a skeptical look.

  “Why should Erin cut her hair?” Mom asks. “I like her in a bob.”

  Then Paige launches into how much I look like Audrey Hepburn and how I should wear the Sabrina haircut, which is extremely short.

  Jon looks closely at me. “You know, she’s right, Erin, you do look a little like Audrey Hepburn. Too bad you’re so camera shy.”

  I pick up a throw pillow and toss it at him. “I’m not shy around cameras,” I challenge him. “As long as I’m behind them.”

  Mom gets a slightly worried look. “Suddenly I’m feeling a little anxious about having Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly strolling around Paris together. What if the paparazzi goes crazy or someone tries to kidnap you two gorgeous girls?”

  Paige and I just laugh, assuring her that we’ll be perfectly fine. Then, before Mom gets any more concerns about abductions, I turn the movie back on.

  “You look nice.” Paige gives me a quick head to toe when I finally emerge from my room. I’m wearing about the fifth outfit I’ve tried on in the last hour. I’m not even sure why I’m being so finicky about my appearance tonight. I tell myself it has more to do with attending the premiere than trying to impress Lionel. At least I hope so.

  “Thanks.” I look down at the rather simple dress, a Michael Kors “little black dress” that I scored in New York. An Audrey Hepburn style, although I hope Paige won’t mention this.

  “You still need a little accessorizing,” she says with a scrutinizing look. “Those sandals are all wrong for that dress. You need something more classic. Where are you going, anyway?”

  I give her a quick lowdown on the premiere as I follow her into her room and kick off my shoes.

  “Sounds like fun. And s
ince it’s a premiere, you definitely need different shoes.” She pulls out a pair of red sling-back pumps and holds them out. “These are a little too small for me. I was going to give them to you anyway.”

  I can tell by the red soles that they’re Christian Louboutin. “Thanks!”

  “And you say the movie’s set in Nepal,” she says as she digs through her closet. “I have the perfect pashmina.”

  I’ve barely slipped on the shoes and Paige is wrapping a red paisley shawl around my shoulders. “Voila!” She steps back, nodding in approval.

  “Thanks.” I finger the delicate fabric. “This is nice.”

  “Now switch out those earrings for some silver hoops and slip on a silver cuff bracelet and Blake will be fighting the guys off—”

  “I’m not going with Blake.”

  Paige’s blue eyes get bigger. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m going with Lionel.”

  “Lionel?” She frowns. “What about Blake?”

  “I told Blake about it.”

  “But I thought you and Blake were—”

  “Good friends,” I finish for her.

  “How does Blake feel about this?”

  I kind of laugh. “I don’t think he’s too concerned.”

  “Don’t be too sure.”

  “Well, anyway, Lionel and I worked together on this film last fall and I’d really like to see it.”

  She just nods, but I can tell by her eyes that she’s still concerned.

  “I really don’t think Blake cares,” I assure her. “He sounded totally fine.”

  Paige smiles. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing, Erin.”

  I shrug. “I hope so. Mostly, I just want to see this film.” Just then I hear the doorbell ring.

  “Have fun,” she calls as I head out.

  I greet Lionel, and as we go down the stairs, I notice that his hair’s a bit longer, cool in an artsy sort of way, and he’s going for a retro look with a fifties-style jacket. “I like your fedora,” I tell him. “Nice look.”

  Lionel’s smile grows as he pauses on the walkway to check me out better. “You look awesome, Erin.”

  “Thanks to Paige,” I say lightly. “My live-in fashion consultant.”

  “She’s really good at that.”

  “She’s a pro.”

  “When your show first started, I was a little skeptical,” he admits as we cross the parking lot. “I thought it was going to be total fluff.”

  I laugh as he opens the passenger door of his car for me. “You mean it’s not?”

  He smiles. “It’s not as fluffy as I expected. In fact, I’ve been enjoying it.”

  “Seriously?” I feel caught off guard.

  He nods and closes the door. As he walks around to the other side, I try to take all this in. First of all, I can’t believe the way he’s treating me—like this is a real date. And equally surprising is that Mr. No Nonsense Lionel Stevens not only watches our show, he sort of likes it. Very surprising indeed.

  “Andy invited me to be on the film crew for another project this summer,” Lionel tells me as he drives. “Not as exotic as Edge. But it sounds interesting. Kind of a historic documentary that will be shot in Idaho.”

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “Absolutely.” Lionel nods.

  A small wave of envy rushes over me. “Man, I wish I could do something like that.”

  Lionel laughs.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Well, I’m sure a lot of people wish they were doing what you’re doing, Erin. Maybe it’s just that old ‘grass is greener’ sort of thing.”

  “Maybe. But doing a reality show about fashion doesn’t seem to compare to shooting a documentary in Idaho.”

  “Hey, your show will look great on your résumé, Erin. Don’t kid yourself.”

  “You’re probably right. I just need to remind myself that it’s only the beginning. There’ll be plenty of time to do film projects that interest me more in the future.”

  “And think about the traveling you’re getting to do,” he reminds me. “Paris next week. London after that. You know how many people would kill for a job like that?”

  I nod. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was complaining. I’m happy for you that you get to work with Andy on a documentary.”

  “And tonight’s film is going to be at Cannes,” he says.

  “Cool. I know the Cannes Festival is in the spring, but probably not while I’m over there.”

  “It’s not until May.”

  “Maybe we’ll be in London then.”

  “Maybe you can pop over,” Lionel says lightly. “You know, hop a ferry or go in the Chunnel.”

  I laugh. “Who knows.”

  It turns out Lionel has picked out an Indian restaurant for tonight’s dinner, which is appropriate, since the movie we’re going to see is set in that part of the globe. As soon as we are seated, I’m realizing that Lionel isn’t quite how I’d been remembering him. For some reason I’d been thinking he was kind of an old stick-in-the-mud, probably because he sort of hurt my feelings when he first heard about our TV show. He acted like it was going to be just another trashy reality show. Now he actually seems to appreciate it. Still, I honestly doubt he’d be watching it if I wasn’t part of it.

  “I really liked those segments you did on environmentally conscious fashion designers,” he tells me after we’ve placed our orders. “Kudos to you, Erin.”

  “Thanks!”

  As we eat paneer and kofta and baigan, we talk about some recent indie movies and how things are progressing at film school. It almost seems like we’re in the same comfortable place where we’d been last fall. I must admit it’s rather nice.

  “So…” he begins as we’re finishing up dinner. “Did I understand you correctly—that you and Blake aren’t seriously dating?”

  “Not seriously. Although I haven’t really gone out with anyone else for a long time, I’ve made it clear to Blake that we’re only just friends.”

  “Just friends?”

  “Well, Blake wants that to change. At least it seemed that way. To be honest, I’m not even sure.”

  “So he won’t mind that we went out tonight?”

  I shrug. “I don’t see why. I told him about the premiere.”

  Lionel seems relieved. And, once again, I feel slightly off balance. I’m wondering what our conversation implies. Does going out with Lionel tonight send the signal that I’m interested in dating him? Am I interested in dating him? Is this really a date? Well, of course it is. When a girl dresses up, gets the car door opened for her, is taken to a nice restaurant and film…Of course, that’s a date. Who am I fooling?

  As we go out to the car, I wonder what this means in regard to Blake. I remember how he kissed me after our Valentine’s date last month—our first kiss after the breakup last year. He’s given me a few good-night kisses since then too. Nothing too heavy, since he knows I’m still being cautious. Plus, we’ve never said anything about being serious. Or about being “exclusive.” I’m not ready for that anyway. Does Blake even care that I’m with Lionel tonight? And if Blake doesn’t care…do I?

  I push these conflicting and confusing thoughts out of my mind as Lionel drives us to the theater. I know I’m being obsessive. And, I remind myself, I will be in Paris in a few days and I won’t need to think about either of these guys. Just enjoy the moment. Menez la vie.

  Andy’s film turns out to be even better than I remembered when we were still editing it. And to my surprise, we’re invited to an after party in the producer’s nearby apartment. By the time we find the place, a couple dozen other film students and newbies in the industry are already there. Some faces are familiar and some are not. One girl that I never really hit it off with comes straight toward us.

  “Lionel!” She takes his hand. “So good to see you here tonight. Wasn’t Andy’s film nearly perfection?”

  He nods then turns to me. “Nevada, do you remember Erin?”
r />   Now she peers curiously at me. “Weren’t you at UCLA last year? Film school?”

  Without going into detail, I explain about quitting after fall term.

  “Erin got the opportunity to work on a TV series,” Lionel tells her.

  Nevada frowns like she’s bitten into something disgusting. “Oh, I remember, you’re the girl who dropped out of the program to do a reality TV show, right?”

  “Erin works on the film crew as well as on the show,” Lionel continues. “It’s a great hands-on experience.”

  “If you like that sort of thing.” I swear Nevada has tilted her nose up ever so slightly.

  “They’re filming in Paris next week,” Lionel says.

  “Did I hear that you’re going to be on Andy’s next film?” she eagerly asks him, totally ignoring his bit of Parisian bait. Suddenly they are discussing the upcoming project, and several other people who are also planning to work on the Idaho documentary are joining in. I step away and, feeling very much like an outsider, mosey over to the refreshment table.

  “Erin Forrester?”

  I turn to see Andy Dresden emerging from another room and coming straight toward me. I can hardly believe he remembered my name. “Yes.” I smile and shake his hand. “Congratulations on a really great film,” I say quickly. “I loved it! The storyline, the cinematography, the music—everything came together so flawlessly. Really impressive!”

  “Thanks. I’ve seen some of your work too.”

  “You’re kidding.” I blink in surprise.

  “My kid sister is a big fan of On the Runway. She forced me to watch it once, and when I told her I knew you she went absolutely nuts. She’s in love with you and your sister.”

  I can’t help laughing as Lionel joins us. “I’ll bet she’s more in love with Paige than me.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” Andy grins. “Anyway, congrats to you for a hit show.”

  “Lionel was just telling me that he gets to be on your crew this summer.” I sadly shake my head. “I have to admit to being seriously envious.”

  Lionel laughs. “Don’t tell me you’d rather be out in the desert eating dust and swatting flies than trekking around those fashion hot spots like Milan and Paris.”