Confessions 02: Confessions of an Almost-Girlfriend by Louise Rozett

Author:Louise Rozett [Rozett, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-07-01T05:00:00+00:00

WINTER

reprisal (noun): retaliation

(see also: Conrad’s surprise)

9

“DIRK TAYLOR?” MY mother exclaims, blushing to the roots of her hair. She awkwardly tries to juggle the winter coat draped over her arm and the bag on her shoulder as Holly’s dad shakes her hand and gives her his million-dollar megawatt smile. “I certainly didn’t expect to meet you at the opening night of a high school musical.” She shakes her head a little in disbelief. “I’m such a fan of your films.”

It annoys me that everyone insists on referring to Dirk Taylor’s movies as films.

Also, what films are we talking about? He doesn’t even look familiar to me.

Well, maybe he does, a little. He’s probably one of those actors who gets small parts in everything and so while he’s totally recognizable, no one can name a single movie he’s ever done.

“I really thought you should have won for Rain in Spring. Or for Getting Out Good. Or actually, for any of the movies you were nominated for,” my mother gushes.

Okay, so women my mother’s age can name his movies.

Wait—nominated? This guy is an Oscar nominee?

“Look at your mother,” Tracy whispers in my ear. “She’s totally blushing—so cute! How awesome that she’s wearing her favorite outfit today.”

As Dirk Taylor stares appreciatively at my mother’s pencil skirt with his camera-ready, piercing blue eyes, I wish she’d chosen to wear something different.

“Do you live here?” my mother asks, clearly puzzled by the presence of a movie star in Union, of all places. I notice that he is still holding her hand and she’s not making any attempt to get it back. Holly—who is standing next to her dad, holding the biggest bouquet of flowers I have ever seen in my life—notices my mother’s response, too, and she grins at me in a conspiratorial way that I find alarming.

“Dad and I moved here this summer, Mrs. Zarelli,” Holly says. “He’s teaching at the Yale Drama School this year.”

“Well, talent certainly runs in the family, Holly. Your performance was extraordinary. What a lovely voice you have!” my mother says.

My mother is complimenting Holly on her performance without having said a single word to me about mine. So what if Passenger #3 only had two solo lines? No small parts, only small actors, right?

Of course, she didn’t really get a chance to say anything at all before she was blindsided by Dork Taylor, who, by the way, is still holding her hand.

“Holly’s amazing, isn’t she?” Robert says as he comes out of the boys’ dressing room, his red scarf carefully wrapped around his throat as if he might “catch a chill” in the hallway. Tracy takes out her iPhone and snaps a picture.

“Are you kidding?” I whisper.

She solemnly shakes her head. “That thing is three-ply cashmere.”

“Robert!” my mother exclaims. “I had no idea you were so talented! You were just magical up there!”

She’s not wrong—he is pretty amazing in the show. Robert looks so happy I think he might burst. “Thanks, Mrs. Z.,” he says, giving her a little bow.

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