of laughter in my eyes.
“You cheat!” I scolded him.
“Who, me?”
“Yeah you, Mr. Innocent!”
I was getting ready to take my next shot when he stood behind me. I looked over my shoulder; he made me nervous standing back there.
“What?” he asked with a grin, like he wasn’t up to no-good.
I looked back at the table and tried to hit the ball when he grabbed the end of my pool stick.
“You suck!” I teased him after barely hitting the cue ball.
“No, you suck. You missed the shot,” he fired back at me.
I tried to crack him with the end of my pool stick but he quickly sprinted away, laughing.
Ryan leaned down to take his shot; he was just about to hit the cue ball when I faked a loud cough.
“Huh, um, you suck.”
He miss-cued and didn’t even hit another ball. The cue ball slowly rolled into the cushion. That’s when he chased me around the table.
“That’s it – you asked for it! Hey, where are you going? Like you could get away from me!”
I made two laps around the table, laughing and smiling all the way.
Eight games of pool and a pitcher of beer later, we were tied – four games a piece. We were having a really, really good time. The whole time
we played, his charm never faltered. Even though we teased each other, he still complimented me when I made good shots, he encouraged me
with kind words when I had a difficult shot to make, and he smiled at me incessantly.
We carried on just like two long-time friends. He made me laugh a lot. Being around him was surprisingly easy. That whole celebrity persona
slipped away and he was just - Ryan - a genuinely nice guy.
“All right, this one’s the tie-breaker. Winner gets all the bragging rights,” he said, playfully tapping me on my rear with the end of his pool stick.
His face took a serious expression as he lined up for his next shot.
“Can I ask you a question, Taryn?”
“Yeah sure, what?” I was curious about what he wanted to know.
“Well I was sort of wondering if you’re married or seeing someone. I don’t know if I could handle having a jealous guy attack me today, too,” he
admitted.
“Um, no. I’ve never been married. And, you don’t have to worry - there’s no jealous boyfriend either,” I answered quickly, trying to be lighthearted
and reassuring about it.
After the words flew out of my mouth I wished I could have rephrased them. I stared down at the ground with embarrassment. This is why I
shouldn’t drink beer – you get too honest with people, you idiot. He probably thinks you’re some basket case that no man wants.
But I rationalized that he had already been accosted once today; I’m sure a bar fight would be the last thing he needed to deal with.
“You’re not dating anyone?” He sounded sort of shocked.
Looking him in the eyes was like taking a shot of truth serum.
“No, no one,” I answered honestly.
My mind flashed back to the last man I dated. How Thomas (‘The Asshole’ as he was referred to now) asked me to marry him, how he promised
to love me forever, and how I gave the ring back after I found out that he had an insatiable appetite for random sex with strangers. He was the last
entry on a short list of guys who smashed my heart into pieces.
“Hmm, that’s good to know.” Ryan nodded while leaning over to take his next shot on the pool table. “So why is that?”
“I suppose the right man hasn’t walked through my door yet,” I answered casually, trying to redeem myself.
In reality, men walked in and out of my door every day, but I’d been numb for so long I didn’t even care to notice them. My need for selfpreservation
was stronger.
His eyes locked on mine as he purposely missed the last shot of the game.
“Guess I get all the bragging rights then,” I whispered after I sunk the last ball on the table. He congratulated me with another soft high-five.
I noticed him glance at his watch as he finished his drink. I assumed he was thinking about leaving so I peeked behind the window blind slightly
to see if there were still people loitering on the sidewalk.
“Is the coast clear?” he asked, even though he knew my answer.
“No. There’s still a crowd out there. I see guys with cameras and a lot of women.”
“This is ridiculous,” he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers.
“What’s worse, the paparazzi or the T-shirt ripping psychos?”
“They’re about even,” Ryan muttered. “Most of the fans are great, but some of them go to scary extremes – like today. And the paparazzi, well,
they’re relentless.” His voice sounded so defeated.
“You really have no freedom or privacy, do you?” I said matter-of-factly as I glanced back at him.
“No,” he whispered. “Not anymore.”
He looked completely forlorn. I felt so bad for him. How someone could have everything and at the same time, have nothing at all. I had to fight
back the urge to go over to him and wrap him in a big hug. I didn’t know what else to say, besides, “I’m sorry.”
He gave me a brief smile, but the anguish on his face was so plain to see.
“They aren’t going to leave until they’re sure you’re not in here, are they?” I didn’t want to say this out loud but it was a question that had to be
asked.
“No.” His eyes shot up to lock on mine.
“Well, you can’t just walk out into that! No way!” I envisioned him leaving through the front door and getting attacked again by the throng of
screaming women.
“What choice do I have?” he sighed. “Even if I manage to get to the street...” his voice trailed in defeat.
My mind was plotting – how to gain him safe passage out of here. The thought of him getting accosted by that horde out there pissed me off.
“Let me go check the back door, see if the way is clear. Stay here, okay?”
Ryan didn’t reply; the gleam of hope in his eyes was confirmation enough that he was willing to accept my help.
I peeked out the back door; the alley was empty. Where the heck would he go from here though? My eyes searched the alley to be sure that
there was no danger and then I had a brilliant idea.
“Can someone pick you up?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He nodded assuredly.
I reached for my cell phone.
“Maggie? Hi, it’s Taryn. I need to ask you a favor. Well, you see, I have a very special guest inside my pub and he is in need of a safe exit. I
mean, he’s very well-known and, um, there are cameras and crazy women outside my bar. Yes, he’s one of the boys from the movie.”
My eyes shot up to him and I gave him my best crooked sorry-smile. “Can I send him through your shop… through your back door? No, he just
needs to get to the street - safely. Okay, thanks Maggie. You’re the best!
“Tell your driver to park directly in front of Maggie’s Bakery on 5 th Street, between Elm and Mulberry Streets, and to call you when he is in
position.” Why did I all of a sudden feel like I was masterminding some great caper in a really bad thriller?
“You’ll be safe. Maggie is a nice, older lady. She won’t even know who you are. She’ll leave you alone.”
I looked up to see him beaming at me – like I was a lifesaver.
“The things we take for granted,” he muttered.
“Hmm? What do you mean?” I wished he would explain.
“Nothing,” he whispered, shaking his head as a twinge of a smile touched his lips. He pulled his phone from his pocket to call his driver.
Ten minutes later he said his goodbyes.
“Thank you, Taryn, for everything. I’m very sorry for putting you through this today.”
“It’s okay, Ryan. You don’t need to apologize. It was nice to meet you.”
“It was very nice to meet you, too. Huh, I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed. It was nice feeling normal for once, even if it was only for
a couple of hours. I had a really great time!”