Page 6 of Cinematic Destinies (Red Carpet Romance #3)

B etty and Khalil were walking down the hospital corridor after rounds.

“How’s Kate O’Connor doing?” Khalil asked.

“She’s great,” Betty replied with a smile.

“It’s cute how she’s your favorite patient.”

“Doctors aren’t supposed to have favorites,” she replied matter-of-factly, before leaning closer and quietly confessing, “but between us, yeah, I really like her.” Khalil smiled and Betty continued, “Kate’s a modern-day superwoman.

Instead of getting distracted chasing some Prince Charming fantasy, she focused on building a career.

Now she’s got a corner office on Wall Street and the guys follow her lead.

As if that’s not enough, she was like, ‘I want to be a mother, so I’m doing it on my own.

’ Such a total badass.” She stopped to giggle.

“She’s also wickedly funny. Dirtiest sense of humor.

Has me laughing hysterically during every exam.

Today it was a bit about how there should be more pregnant porn stars, for instructional purposes. ”

He laughed. “I still can’t believe you came straight here from the airport.”

“You know me, work is my life.” He started to mutter a response when she continued, “Besides, you’ve been here for days without me. Can’t let you race past me.”

“Not a chance. You’re the best one in the program,” Khalil assured her as he opened the door to the residents’ lounge.

She smiled bashfully, dropped on the couch, and announced, “I’m starving.”

“I figured you would be. I ordered us food. From that new Indian place you wanted to try. It should be here any minute.”

“Thank you. That was sweet,” she replied.

Soon they were eating dinner and laughing uproariously. Betty was devouring the vindaloo. “This is awesome. Best curry I’ve had in ages.”

Khalil tried to smile, but it came out as a strange, pained expression.

“Too hot?” she asked with a giggle as he gulped his water.

“Nah, it’s all good,” he gasped, his forehead glistening.

“Here, dip this in the raita. It will bring some relief,” she said, handing him a piece of naan.

“Thanks,” he said, and took a bite. “That’s better.”

She smiled.

“So, how was your weekend? Did you have a good time with your family?” he asked.

“Yeah, it was great. Too short. They asked about you. Said to send their regards.”

“That was kind.”

“It turns out I’ll be going back again this fall. My parents celebrate their thirtieth anniversary on the first of October. They’re renewing their vows,” she said with a playful eye roll. “It’s just so them. Hopeless romantics. Super weird.”

“They have quite the iconic love story. I admit, I’ve seen pictures of their famous engagement at the Cannes Film Festival.”

“Have you been googling me?” Betty joked.

Khalil laughed. “Maybe I’m just trying to figure out how someone who descends from a classic Hollywood fairy tale could be so anti-romance.”

“Oh, please. I’m just a realist. If it makes you feel better, I was obsessed with fairy tales when I was little. I fancied myself a princess waiting to be swept away into a grand love story.”

He seemed stunned by the admission. “So what happened?”

“I grew up, realized that ‘happily ever after’ is ridiculous, threw away the tiara, and picked up the schoolbooks.”

“But your parents, they . . .”

“They’re freaks of nature. Madly in love. I’ll give you that.”

“When I met your parents, they seemed completely down-to-earth. You’d never guess how famous they are. It’s hard to imagine what it’s like being the daughter of one of the biggest movie stars in the world. What was it like for you and your siblings growing up in the midst of Hollywood?”

“Our parents tried to keep things pretty normal for us. Once in a while we’d be out somewhere, and the paparazzi would hassle us.

It freaked me out, so my dad would scoop me up to shield me until we could get away from them.

Georgia, on the other hand, loved it. Even as a toddler she would laugh and make jokes, trying to get their attention.

I think she thought they were following her!

” Khalil laughed and she continued, “Seriously, my parents would have to drag her away! Albert’s always been the shyest, the most private.

It was the toughest on him. I could see it took a toll.

He’d retreat into himself.” She paused and added, “But like I said, it was only once in a while. Mostly, we lived like everyone else.”

“You must have had fun going to movie premieres.”

“Ha! Fat chance. I’ve never been to a single one.”

“Seriously?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“My dad sees acting as his work, not his life,” Betty replied.

“To him it’s just about making cinematic art.

And I told you, my parents tried to shield us from all the Hollywood stuff.

They never took us to those kinds of events, even when Georgia was old enough to beg.

They didn’t want us exploited or scrutinized by the media.

I think they were trying to let us figure out who we were in the most normal way possible.

You know, if your version of normal includes a private jet,” she said with a chuckle.

Khalil laughed. “Let me guess, you had a chauffeured limousine take you to school and a fleet of nannies to accommodate your every whim.”

“I wish!” Betty replied with a laugh. She got quieter. “Seriously, though, my parents are awesome. We never had nannies or anything like that. They did everything themselves.”

“Really? How did they juggle that with your father filming movies and your mother doing book tours and university fellowships? I just assumed that . . .”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know how they managed it with three kids, but they did.

We never had a nanny. My parents had a rule that we always stayed together as a family.

So, we would all travel together when my dad had a location shoot or my mom had a fellowship.

Whoever wasn’t working would take care of us, but really, they both always did. They were super hands-on.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Yeah. Even though we lived in a big house and flew on a jet, they tried to make things family-centered and DIY as much as they could.” She laughed.

“My mom was kind of extreme. When I was maybe six and Georgia was three, we wanted to make cookies in the shape of butterflies. Most parents would buy a cookie cutter. Not our mom. She taught us how to do it with what we already had at home. We made homemade sugar cookie dough. Then we used a butter knife to cut strips for the butterfly’s body and a drinking glass to cut out circles, which we sliced in half.

When faced opposite of each other, they looked like wings.

” Betty smiled. “The cookies really looked like butterflies. We each got to decorate half. I took so much time to make each one perfect. Georgia just dumped food coloring and colored sugar on hers Jackson Pollock style.” Khalil laughed and she continued, “I realize now that my mom wanted us to be able to get by no matter what we had. To rely on our own creativity and imagination, not buying stuff or having it handed to us.”

“What a wonderful gift,” he remarked.

“Yeah, well, when I was a teenager, I would have loved it if they didn’t make us set the table and do our own laundry and all that other kind of stuff that they could have easily outsourced, but in hindsight, I wouldn’t change a thing. I know how lucky I am. In every way.”

He smiled, unable to take his eyes off her. Softly, he whispered, “Betty . . .”

“So, should we clean this food up? You ready for a game of Scrabble? Medical terms only.”

“Sure.”

ALBERT GLANCED OVER AT RYAN AND their friends as their nearly empty trolley whizzed beneath the streets of Cambridge. Ryan bumped his shoulder and said, “Let’s reenact our laser tag battle.”

“Here?” Albert asked.

“Yeah,” Ryan said, jumping up. “We have this car to ourselves.”

Albert shook his head.

Ryan turned to their two friends. “Come on, guys.”

The three began pretending they were in an adventure movie, using their hands as guns. Albert sat watching, a huge smile on his face.

“Come on, Al,” Ryan encouraged, waving his hand. “Don’t miss the moment.”

Albert nodded and rose to join them. Soon it was a full-scale medieval battle, up and down the trolley car. After a series of clever moves that took out his opponents, Albert raised the toy sword he’d won at the arcade and declared, “I am king of laser tag, and you are my loyal subjects.”

Ryan laughed. “See, aren’t you glad I told you to pick the sword and not the stuffed animal?”

Albert had been smiling and laughing for so long, his face hurt.

He thought about how many times in his life he had stood on the sidelines, too shy to join in, and how Ryan changed all that.

He gazed at Ryan—his chiseled face with coffee-colored eyes and dark hair that effortlessly fell into place—and wondered how he could make everything so much fun, even a ride on the Red Line.

As the trolley turned the final corner, roaring into Harvard Station, Albert, Ryan, and their buddies grabbed onto each other to keep their balance.

Albert and Ryan exchanged smiles as they all hopped off the train and headed back to their apartment building, joking and laughing along the short walk.

“Al and I are gonna hang for a while at his place,” Ryan told his roommates, who headed into their apartment as Ryan followed Albert into his across the hall.

“That was so much fun,” Ryan said as they both plopped onto the couch. “Don’t get a big head, but it’s true that you’ve become the king of laser tag. Glad you were my partner. We kicked their asses.”

“I’d never go to places like that if it weren’t, well, if it weren’t for you. I’d probably spend all my time just drawing or reading. I lived in Boston for years before I even knew that arcade existed. I never played laser tag or any of that other stuff before I met you.”