Love, Laughter & Happily Ever After: A sweet romantic comedy collection

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Love, Laughter & Happily Ever After: A sweet romantic comedy collection Page 35

by Ellie Hall


  “A bike?”

  “A fast one. Well, I can make it go fast,” he says with a grin. “I’ve got a spare helmet for you and everything.”

  “Cool, thanks.”

  This is all a bit weird, but I decide to just go with the flow. What other option do I have? Go home and face Patricia’s scrutinizing look about her ruined bathroom floor? No, thank you.

  We walk back to the trailhead where Caleb hands me a biking helmet.

  “Hop on,” he says, patting the metal luggage carrier at the back of the bike.

  We wobble down the road, swerving left and right until Caleb finds his balance, and I gently put my hands on his sides to keep myself from falling off the bike. This is going to be an interesting ride, that’s for sure.

  4

  Caleb

  I’m so glad I decided to go to the trail this morning. If I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have met June, and boy, is she something. Before we got on my bike together, she was rambling about hygiene and brushing her teeth and some other things I didn’t quite register. I almost offered her a shower at my place as hers is having a water problem, but I didn’t want to come across as a creepy guy.

  Now, she’s sitting right behind me. Her body is so close that I can feel her breath on my back. I don’t have time to ponder what this does to me as I’m rushing around LA, trying to find the exact paint color Ryker wants. It’s not going to be an easy feat. I doubt there’s even a color that’s “the perfect mix of cobalt blue and morning sun yellow” as he described it.

  But hey, as his PA, it’s my job to do the impossible. If Ryker asks me to hire a bunch of superheroes for one of his parties, I’ll do it. I’ll dress up as Thor myself if I need to. People keep telling me I look like him, or at least like Chris Hemsworth, so I doubt it would be hard to pull off.

  “We’re almost there,” I say, spotting the paint shop in the distance. “Hang on tight.”

  June grabs my shirt a bit firmer than before. It feels nice. We swerve a bit as I try to come to a halt without her falling off the bike. I steady the thing and let her get off before I follow suit and lock my trusty stead.

  June lets her gaze travel over the shiny letters on the storefront. “Are you sure this is the correct address?”

  I nod. “It is. Why?”

  She motions toward the store again. “This looks more like a fancy store where you can’t shop unless you’re dressed in a gala gown—or in your case, a suit.”

  “As long as I discreetly show them Ryker’s credit card, they’ll let us in.”

  “Even if we’re wearing hiking clothes?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “What if I were dressed in a clown costume?”

  I try to keep myself from laughing. “That would be weird, but I’m sure we’d still get in. And if we didn’t, well… One phone call from Ryker is all it takes.”

  She shakes her head as we walk toward the entrance. “Being famous sure has its perks. Also, why do you have his credit card? Does he trust you with that?”

  “Of course. If I steal it, he’d know it was me, right? There’s no risk whatsoever. Besides, I don’t know about you, but I can’t pay for most of the things he asks me for anyway. It’s easier to carry his credit card around than asking him to pay me back. Sometimes, he tells me to buy something for myself when I’m out shopping for him, so it’s a nice perk.”

  “But then, where is the line?”

  “The line?” I ask.

  “Between your private and personal life.”

  She looks at me with the innocence of a baby deer. I can’t help but feel a tinge of affection spread through me.

  “The line, June, is non-existent. Seriously, once you’ve helped your drunk boss get into bed after he’s thrown up all over his expensive carpet, there is no line whatsoever.”

  She pulls a disgusted face. “Ew, that’s rough. Why did you take on this job in the first place if cleaning up vomit is part of your daily tasks?”

  I shrug. “Why are you catering at a movie set?”

  “Connections,” she says with a smile.

  “Same.”

  She puts her hands in her pockets and laughs. “That makes us both Hollywood wannabes then?”

  “Yeah, if you put it that way. I call it a way to make my dreams come true. One day, I want to direct a movie that’ll change the world.” I shake my head. “I know it sounds as cliché as can be.”

  For a moment, I think she’s going to burst out laughing. Most people do when I tell them about my dreams. I can take it. Their opinion doesn’t matter to me in the slightest. I know what I want, and I won’t throw away my dreams because of someone’s opinion. But June surprises me. She puts her hand on my arm, right above the crevice of my elbow, and smiles softly at me. “I, too, have big dreams, Caleb. Do I want to cater all the hottest parties in LA? Yes, I do. Do I want the most successful actors to have me on speed-dial and beg me to bake them a cake for their wedding? Yes, I do.”

  I return her smile with one of my own. “Well, then you understand why it’s important to me that I buy Ryker his paint and make sure he’ll be ecstatic when he sees the result.”

  She drops her hand from my elbow, as if she only just now realizes she was touching it this entire time. “I understand. We should be partners in crime—if you want to, of course,” she adds.

  Her eye catches mine, and the look she gives me makes my heart skip a beat. “I’d love that.”

  “Shall we go inside then?”

  “Ladies first,” I say, and we make our way to the entrance. A man in a dark-blue suit opens the door of the paint store for us, and we both step inside. I don’t know what I expected from a paint store, but it certainly wasn’t this. A giant, sparkling chandelier hangs from the ceiling like the ultimate sign of extravagance and luxury. Soft classical music fills the room, and a guy who can’t be older than nineteen rushes toward us to take our drink order.

  June’s eyes grow wide. “Drink order? Isn’t this a paint shop?”

  “It sure is, Miss. That doesn’t mean we can’t pamper you, though. Bringing color into your life, in all possible ways, is our motto after all.”

  I grin. “Is that so? I’d be careful with that motto if I were you.”

  The guy looks at me with a frown. “What do you mean, Sir?”

  “In all possible ways. Like…really? This is LA. Haven’t you ever had any weird requests after you tell customers about that motto of yours?”

  June snorts. She pretends to sneeze to cover up her laughter, which makes it even worse. The sounds coming from her mouth remind me of a wounded animal’s cry for help, and now I have to try my best not to follow suit.

  The guy keeps smiling through all of this. “I haven’t experienced anything out of the ordinary, no.” I’ve got to applaud him for his professionalism. “I’ll be helping you with all of your paint needs today. I’m Rich, by the way.”

  “You are?” June asks. This time, I’m unable to stop myself from laughing. Even Rich himself can’t keep his cool.

  “Rich is my name,” he explains with a chuckle. “I’m not rolling in cash from working here, if that’s what you think.”

  “Oh, right. Of course,” June says.

  “How can I be of service to you two today?”

  “My boss needs one of his rooms repainted.” I take the paper that I scribbled Ryker’s requests on out of my pocket. “He’s looking for the perfect mix of cobalt blue and morning sun yellow. Oh, and it needs to emit a relaxing vibe, but not so relaxing that people will fall asleep as soon as they see the walls.”

  Man, saying these ridiculous words out loud makes me feel awkward. Thank goodness Rich here knows it’s my boss who’s asking these things, not me. I don’t even know what kind of paint emits a vibe, but I guess that’s Rich’s problem now. Poor fella.

  He scratches the back of his head and lets out an almost inaudible sigh. “Cobalt blue and morning sun yellow? If you mix those two, you’ll get a green color, so your boss wan
ts green walls?”

  “No, he wants a mix that isn’t green. I know this sounds crazy.”

  Silence falls between the three us of. I can see Rich thinking. His forehead is all wrinkled, and I bet he’s panicking already.

  “You know what? I’ll consult with my boss again about the colors.”

  Rich’s face lights up. “That would be lovely. I’ll give you some space. Come and find me when you know more. Oh, and if you need anything else, let me know. A foot massage perhaps? A facial? Manicure? Some caviar?”

  June chuckles. “We’re fine, thanks.” She turns to me. “Unless you’re longing for a foot massage and a plate of caviar after our hike?”

  “I’m fine,” I say with a laugh.

  “Great,” Rich says before rushing away.

  I turn to June and groan. “Ryker is not going to like this.”

  She shakes her head. “Ryker is a pompous donkey, if you ask me. Sorry. I always thought he was this amazing guy, but after the way he treated me and lied about me hitting his dog, I had to rethink my opinion of him. And now this?”

  I put my hands on her shoulders. “Relax. I’ll deal with it.”

  I find myself a quiet corner to call Ryker and explain to him that he can’t have the paint mix he wants unless he’s okay with having green walls. Unfortunately, he finds that news hard to process.

  “I can’t go against nature’s laws,” I reply. “Colors are colors. I don’t have a clue how to fix this. I would if I could, Ryker.”

  “That’s nonsense. Just give them more money, okay?”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, more money isn’t going to solve this.”

  “You have to do something! Why am I paying you if you can’t even do something simple like buy me paint?”

  I swallow and tell myself to stay calm. “There might be a better solution.” One that doesn’t involve me rewriting the laws of the universe, I think to myself.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why use one color? It’s so mundane,” I tell him, knowing all too well that he hates mundane things. “The new rage is color blocking. You could divide the wall into geometrical patterns, then paint every one of them in a different color. People will go crazy over it when you post a pic.”

  “Hmm. You think so?”

  “Definitely,” I say.

  “Okay, then do that. Both colors, but instead of mixed, block them out.”

  The muscles in my neck relax as soon as he speaks those words. Hallelujah. He ends the call and I walk back over to June.

  “Problem solved. Now all we have to find are the right colors.”

  I call Rich back over, and he leads us to a plushy sofa. He puts five binders filled with paint swatches and samples on the table in front of us. June leafs through them. She gasps when she arrives at the price table at the back.

  “Four thousand dollars for a few buckets of paint? Caleb, this is crazy.”

  I shrug. “It’s not our money, remember.”

  “But don’t you have an obligation to tell Ryker he’s wasting his dollars?”

  I turn to June and lock eyes with her. “My job is to do as he asks and to affirm his ideas. He doesn’t care about my opinion. All he wants is the affirmation that his view of the world is right. And as long as it’s about innocent things like paint and snacks, I don’t care. I just go along with it.”

  “But these prices… I can’t believe it. What is this paint made of? Baby sweat?”

  I snort. “Babies don’t even sweat.”

  “Really? Huh, I didn’t know that.”

  “We could convince Ryker that there’s baby sweat in this paint, though,” I say, and we both burst out laughing because we know it’s true.

  “I never thought being a PA was this exciting,” June says. “I always believed it entailed running normal errands, not…this.”

  I grin. “If you think this is extraordinary, just wait and see.”

  5

  June

  Ryker’s house is huge. Enormous. Giant. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. The sheer size of it alone would be big enough to fit ten normal-sized houses. But even though I have come to dislike the guy, I must admit that he’s got great taste when it comes to decorating.

  I’m waiting in one of the living rooms until the delivery guys arrive with the paint while Caleb is taking a quick shower. I absolutely admire his strong legs. He biked the two of us up the hill without complaining once.

  I snap a few selfies to remember this moment. I’m not planning on posting them on the Internet, because Ryker doesn’t even know I’m at his house right now. He’d probably think I’m here to injure his dog again—even though that’s not what happened. Despite all that, and not taking my dislike for him into consideration, I still want to remember this moment forever. He’s one of Hollywood’s biggest actors at the moment after all.

  It’s crazy how much you can learn about someone just by looking at their stuff. I wander into the kitchen and let my hands trail over the marble countertops. The fridge is stacked with protein drinks, bags of seaweed, and vegetables. I open a few more cabinets and drawers. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Ryker seems to be a health nut, just as I expected.

  I tiptoe around, completely unnecessarily as it’s only Caleb and me, but I guess some part of me doesn’t want to believe that. Why have this gigantic house if you’re going to live alone in it? As far as I know, Ryker doesn’t have a girlfriend. Believe me, I’ve checked. Before I knew he was an arrogant donkey, I might have had one of those celebrity crushes on him. That’s why I took the catering job for Sunshine and Waves Entertainment. Don’t get me wrong, I do like to bake, but I turned down a job at an actual bakery for this one—a bakery that caters important parties and could’ve been a stepping stone for me.

  Accepting my current job was an impulsive move, but I guess it’s like Caleb says: working on a movie set has amazing opportunities. People get to know you, and they might, one day, introduce you to the right person, which then leads to landing your dream job, and then more opportunities arise.

  I keep looking around for nothing in particular until my eye spots the wall to the left. It jumps out to me. I can’t put a finger on it, but something seems off.

  The white paint shows an almost undiscernible black line in the middle of the wall, which is so weird.

  I strain my ears. I can still hear the water running in the distance, so Caleb won’t show up any time soon. I walk over to the wall and gently touch it. As I push on it, I hear a small click. Huh. I push again, using a bit more force this time, and I realize this isn’t a wall at all. It’s a hidden door. Oh my goodness, it’s the entrance to a secret party room. Or maybe I’ll find a staircase leading toward a portal to another dimension or something. Oh, or a secret library!

  Okay, calm down. Deep breaths. This is real life, not some fantasy novel.

  My heart skips a beat. I pull the hidden door open and step through. Too bad it’s way too dark for me to see anything. I use the flashlight on my phone to look for a light switch.

  I flip it, and as soon as the room illuminates, my jaw drops. This room is not a portal to another dimension. This is a portal to severe cardiovascular disease. Right behind a row of empty buckets, two vacuum cleaners, and some brooms, there’s a floor-to-ceiling open pantry crammed full of unhealthy snacks. Rows upon rows of candy bars, bags of different flavored chips, tins filled to the brim with cookies, and soda bottles stare me in the face.

  Ha! So Ryker isn’t as perfect as he lets out to be. I snap a few pics. I don’t know why, but I can’t stop. This is just too good to let it pass without any proof. Next time he’s rude to me, I’ll look at these pictures and realize he’s not better than me at all.

  I hear stumbling in the distance, which must mean Caleb has finished showering. I shove my phone back into my pocket and get back to the fake door.

  Only…it doesn’t budge. What the—

  Oh no. There is simply no way to open it from the inside. T
here’s no doorknob. Now what?

  “June?” I hear Caleb calling out.

  Darn it! How can I get out of here without him finding out I’ve been snooping? I get my phone back out and call my best friend, who’s all the way back in Minnesota.

  “Hello?”

  “Margot? You’ve got to help me. I’m in big trouble.”

  She gasps. “Did you get arrested? Is this your one and only call from prison?”

  I roll my eyes, even though that’s a useless gesture as she can’t see me. “No, why would I get arrested?”

  “I don’t know what kind of stuff you get up to there. Maybe you broke your curfew and your landlord ratted you out,” she says with a laugh. Ever since I told her I have to be home by ten p.m. every night, she can’t stop making fun of that rule.

  “That’s not what happened. Listen, I don’t have much time. I’m stuck in a pantry.”

  She lets out an even bigger laugh. “You got stuck in a pantry? How? Why?”

  “The details don’t matter. I’ll tell you later. All I need right now is advice for getting out of here without the guy who’s here with me knowing I’m in his boss’s pantry.”

  “Hold the boat, Junebug. What’s this about a guy? And his boss? Where the forking macaroni are you?”

  I sigh. “The guy is someone I met at work. Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I need to get out of here.”

  “Sounds like someone’s nervous about impressing this guy from work,” she states with a chuckle.

  “I’m not. It’s nothing like that. I only just met him this morning. You know how much I despise all those love-at-first-sight stories. This is not one of those,” I say with a shudder.

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Let’s focus.” She’s silent for a moment. “Have you tried picking the lock with a bobby pin?”

  “A bobby pin? It’s me, June, remember? Not Nancy Drew. Besides, this door doesn’t even have a lock. It’s kind of a wall that functions as a door.”

  “June, I’m going to ask you a question, and you need to answer me honestly, okay?”

 

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