Finn

Don’t fuck this up. This is the chance of a lifetime. She just confirmed that the rumors are true and she is the final decision-maker on casting. Who knew she’d be an early riser and a runner. Yeah, Sebastian told me that’s where she was staying, but I didn’t think I’d run into her. Divine providence, maybe? So glad I asked her where she was staying, now I don’t have to worry about that slipping out and her wondering how the hell I knew that little piece of information.

C’mon, dude, convince her you are Griffin Chase. This is your chance.

“Anything you want to know? If I can answer it, I will.” She smiles at me and seems very sincere in her offer.

There’s a messy lock of hair that’s slipped out of her loose ponytail and it’s distracting the hell out of me, seriously interfering with my brain’s ability to come up with coherent questions, questions that will impress a writer. I have the urge to reach across the table and tuck the errant, loose blonde spiral behind her ear. But I’m kind of digging the sexiness of how real she looks with it all messy. This woman has never seen a plastic surgeon in her life and everything that is imperfect is actually refreshing. And beautiful. And I don’t usually have a thing for blondes. But this one, she’s really cute.

“But hold that thought.” She smiles, abruptly getting up and going to the counter at the front of the shop.

It’s impossible not to admire her tight bottom, muscular legs, and the natural sway of her hips. Damn, that is sexy. I wonder if she even knows she’s sexy.

Returning with a plate covered by two large cookies, she shrugs, giving me an impish grin. “They were called cowboy cookies. How could I not?”

I can smell the dark chocolate and butter as she sets them down. “What exactly are they?”

“Oatmeal with chocolate chip.” She breaks off a piece of the one closest to her.

“Raisins are overrated anyway,” I assess with my first bite as the dark chocolate bathes my taste buds. Like everything else this place serves, the cookies are delicious.

“I figure we’ve already run off these calories.” Washing her cookie down with iced Americano, she locks eyes with me and asks, “Okay, I’m ready. So, what questions can I answer for you?”

Taking a deep breath, I tell myself not to overthink this. Just let it flow. “Okay, so they met as kids, Griffin and Gabriela, but I didn’t necessarily sense the love story then. Was it a love story at that point? Did I miss it?”

“No, it wasn’t a love story. He was seven years older than her and when you’re kids, that’s a big age difference. When he was leaving for college, she was still in elementary school. I think he thought of her as a cute little girl, more like a friend’s little sister, although she was the daughter of the domestic help who worked for his best friend’s family.”

“Right.” I’m slowly savoring my cookie. This might be the unhealthiest thing I’ve put in my mouth in months. Well, that’s if you don’t count Eva Armeni. Definitely unhealthy for me and nowhere near as sweet. “Coming from a well-to-do background, I was surprised that he enlisted after college.”

“He came from a family where public service was pretty much expected and his father had political aspirations for him from the time he was in the womb. In some ways, his military career was an expected part of his resume, but even with that said, it was his choice. I think what we saw in Griff was a deeply patriotic man with a sense of duty that had been instilled in him from the time he was young.”

“Griff,” I chuckle at the intimacy of the nickname, as I mindlessly roll a straw wrapper between my fingers and consider my next question. “So, when he comes home after having been away at college and then being overseas, he was late twenties?”

“Yeah, because he runs for office at twenty-nine and he’s about two years into his term when they cross paths again.”

“Has she always loved him?”

“I think when she was young it was more of a crush. From the time she was little, though, she was definitely in awe of him. He’s this big, tall, handsome blond guy and she’s maybe eight when she dubs him Captain America.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Remembering that scene has me smiling. “When he sees her again, he’s already in Congress, and it felt like he knew immediately from that very first moment he saw her, what was missing in his life.”

“Yeah, well there’s that immediate kinship you have with people you’ve known your entire life, that shared experience and memory that is uniquely yours. Are you on Facebook?”

Why the heck does she want to know that? Her question puts me on high alert. Have I posted anything questionable lately? Like I’m reading the book a movie script was adapted from and it sucks. “Uh, yeah. I am.”

“Okay, so have you reconnected with people from childhood whom you had no contact with for decades?”

I nod, internally letting out a sigh of relief. I see where she’s going.

“And the memories you share with these people bring back good feelings, because it’s experiences that belong exclusively to you. It’s the story of your life. Even if you couldn’t stand the other person way back when, right?”

“It’s true.” I laugh, thinking of some of those douches I said I’d never speak to again and now meet for drinks every so often.

“So, there’s that bond between them, that shared history. And at twenty-four, standing before him is a woman, not that cute fourteen-year-old from the summer he graduated from college, who, by that point, had a huge crush on him. This is a very direct woman with a Masters in Journalism from Columbia and she’s calling him out on his policies.”

“I don’t think either of them expected that spark. Well, at least, that’s how I read it.”

“Especially him. His memory was of a little girl whom he had always found bright and engaging, and if anything, had brotherly feelings toward her. Like he’s an older kid from the neighborhood kind of thing, so he’d protect her if someone were beating up on her or picking on her or something.”

“Even though she was clearly the child of his friend’s housekeeper and not really a neighborhood kid. There’s always that class distinction,” I’m thinking out loud.

“Yes, to some extent. But when the kids are out on a hot, summer night playing tag, they’re all just kids and they are part of one another’s worlds without the socio-economic distinctions instilled in them by adults.”

Nodding, I take the last bite of my cowboy cookie. “Yes. But now they are the adults.”

Frankie pushes the plate toward me, half her cookie still uneaten. “Kill it.” She smiles.

“You don’t have to ask twice.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I pop it in my mouth.

This woman has me eating processed sugar. What the hell? Am I such a Hollywood whore that I’ll do anything for the part?

“And yes, they are now the adults, and the day when they first reunite at his press conference, she gets under his skin immediately. Calling him on the carpet, and all of a sudden, his policy decisions take on a very personal tilt. The things he has enacted have adversely affected people who were very good to him while he was growing up and that is an eye-opener for him, something he doesn’t take lightly and something he had not previously considered.”

“She really does become his touchstone to the past and the future.” God, I hope what I’m saying is right.

“Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it.”

There’s that smile again. Her teeth are not capped, I note, and not perfectly aligned. Only someone in this town would notice those details.

“I’m going to steal that from you,” she adds.

“Only if you give me the part,” I quip back, wanting to slap myself down the minute those desperate words are out of my mouth.

Oh Frankie, Frankie, Frankie, if you only knew how much I need this part for so many damn reasons.

“If you’re the right actor to play the role, you’ll get the part.”

I can tell that I’ve made her feel uncomfortable.

“I appreciate that. And I really appreciate you taking the time this morning. I really hope you’ll take the chance on me.”

“I promise you’ll get a fair shot, Finn.”

“That’s all I can ask.” I hope I haven’t blown this. “Well, there is one other thing I can ask.” I smile at her. “Would you share an email address with me, so if I have questions, I can shoot you a note.” What I really want to do is ask for her phone number, so that I can text her, but my fear is that will be crossing a line she doesn’t want me stepping over.

At least, not yet.

 

 

Staring at my laptop screen, I delete the email for the fifth time.

Frankie-

Great running into you today and thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts with me about the characters. Obviously, it was invaluable, so again, thank you. Oh, and thanks for the cookie and a half.

Finn

Hey, if you want to go running, let me know.

I started my second reading of the book when I got home. I’m seeing how much I missed the first time around now that I know how the story ends.

 

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