Page 7 of Cinematic Destinies (Red Carpet Romance #3)

“I’m glad I bring you out of your shell,” Ryan replied. Albert blushed and Ryan continued, “It’s cute how into it you get. You come alive.”

Albert smiled. “It’s fun when we pretend to be characters, like we’re in a TV show or action movie or something. It makes me feel . . .” He trailed off.

“What?” Ryan asked, taking his hand.

“I don’t know. Like I’m not just me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with just being you,” Ryan said, putting his hand on Albert’s cheek. He kissed him softly and added, “I like you the way you are.”

“I like you too,” Albert replied, and they kissed again.

“So, since I dragged you out practically the second you got back, you never told me about your weekend at home.”

“It was really nice just to spend time hanging out with my family. Sometimes it’s hard being far away.

I miss them. Georgia’s hysterical. She always makes me laugh.

You’d get a kick out of her. Betty’s the smartest person I know.

I like listening to her talk about her job.

And my parents are great. They’re into my new drawings and the classes I’m taking this summer. ”

“That’s because you’re super talented.”

Albert blushed. “My folks celebrate their thirtieth anniversary on October first and they’re doing a vow renewal, so we’ll all be at that. My dad’s flying us back home. So at least I know when I’ll see them again.”

“That’s cool,” Ryan said. “I actually have a couple relatives in LA. Maybe I can tag along with you, and we can have some fun in sunny Cali. There’s an amazing arcade that has the sickest virtual reality stuff. Completely next level. We would have a blast.”

Albert looked down and fidgeted.

Ryan touched his hand. “I wasn’t asking you to introduce me to your family or anything. I just thought it would be a chance to go somewhere fun. It’s not a big deal. Forget I mentioned it.”

“Look, I know things were weird when I left. I thought about it. I thought about it a lot. The whole time I was gone.”

“And?”

Albert looked into his eyes. “I want us to keep seeing each other, but I’m still not comfortable with public displays of affection.”

“Al, all our friends know about us.”

“I’m not worried about our friends. It’s strangers.

Friends of friends. Everyone takes pictures on their phones.

When we’re at an arcade or a party or someplace like that, I just need to lay off the physical stuff.

The last thing I want is someone snapping a picture of us and posting it online for the whole world to see. My dad can’t find out like that.”

“What are the odds that’s going to happen?”

“Being a celebrity’s kid makes you a target,” Albert explained.

“It’s hard to understand unless you’ve experienced it.

I’ve dealt with it my whole life. I’ve been followed by the paparazzi.

Kids at school have tried to become friends with me just to meet my parents.

Sometimes I see people staring at me a little too long, pointing, whispering.

All kinds of stuff. It makes me extremely uncomfortable. ”

“I’m sorry. That sucks. I guess I never really thought about what it’s like. When we met, I didn’t know who your parents were.” Ryan ran his hand through his hair. “But . . .”

“What?” Albert asked.

“It’s just that I guess some amount of that stuff is going to happen anyway. You can’t let it stop you from living your life.”

“I know, it’s just that my dad doesn’t know. I thought about telling him over the weekend. Honestly, I did. We were just all having such a good time, and I didn’t want to mess it up.”

“It’s never going to be easy, but you’ll feel so much better when you do it,” Ryan replied. “From everything you’ve said about your dad, there’s nothing to worry about. He sounds like a good guy.”

“He’s the best.”

“So, how come you told your mother and not your father?”

“I didn’t intend to.” Albert took a moment and explained, “Junior year of high school I had a crush on this guy, Brett. I was too shy to do anything about it. I kind of watched him from a distance.”

“Is he gay?” Ryan asked.

“Oh yeah. Totally open. He definitely dated and hooked up, but he never had a steady boyfriend or anything like that, so . . .” He took breath and continued, “It’s stupid and embarrassing, but I always hoped that maybe he liked me back.

He used to look at me sometimes. I thought that somehow we’d end up going out. ”

“What happened?”

Albert sighed. “One morning I was walking down the hallway in school, and he was coming toward me, holding hands with some other kid. People were whispering that they were going out. My heart sank. I was so distracted looking at them that I didn’t notice there were a couple stairs in front of me.

I flew down, falling flat on my stomach.

All my stuff scattered everywhere. Some kids laughed, but Brett stopped to help me up.

” He got quiet for a moment before adding, “It was humiliating.”

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. I forced myself to hold it together at school, but as soon as I got home, the floodgate burst. I exploded into tears and raced up to my room. My mother saw and followed me. She sat on my bed and threw her arms around me, rubbing my back, whispering that whatever it was would be okay.” Ryan smiled softly and Albert continued, “When I finally calmed down, she asked me what happened. I just sat there, looking at her through puffy eyes, unable to speak. She took my hand, looked straight into my eyes, and said, ‘Albert, I know exactly who you are. I do. And I love you with all my heart. You can tell me.’ So, I told her everything.”

“Wow. She sounds like an amazing mother.”

“She’s the sweetest person in the world.”

“Are you sure she never told your father?”

Albert nodded. “She respects my privacy. She wanted me to tell him myself.”

“Then . . .”

“I’m not ready yet. I’m working myself up to it. Can that just be okay? For a little while?”

Ryan leaned forward and kissed him. “We’ll lay low on the public displays until you’re ready.”

Albert smiled and they kissed again.

GEORGIA RELAXED IN THE BACK SEAT, marveling at the unique landscape during the hour and a half drive from the Reykjavík airport.

For all her travels, she had never seen any place like Iceland.

At first there were seemingly endless vistas of moss-covered lava rocks with rolling milk chocolate–colored mountains in the distance.

The stark terrain eventually gave way to vast green fields covered in mysterious purple flowers, punctuated with streams and waterfalls, and dotted with small horses that looked like they walked off the pages of a fable.

Soon the landscape morphed again into a series of volcanoes and mountains, surrounded by rocks and dirt in all shades of brown.

It was desolate and opulent all at once.

She felt as if she had been dropped off on another planet.

“We’re here,” the driver announced as he pulled into the dirt driveway of a rustic-looking home facing a massive midnight-black volcano, no other signs of life as far as the eye could see.

They spilled out of the vehicle, and the driver began unloading her luggage from the trunk. Georgia took a deep breath and looked at the volcano. He noticed and said, “Don’t worry, she won’t blow. You’re a safe distance. There’s a trail if you’re adventurous. It’s quite beautiful.”

She smiled and followed him into the house. An older couple with snow-colored hair hurried over to greet her, warm smiles on their faces. “Welcome. I am ástríeur and this is my husband Gunnar.”

“Hi. I’m Georgia Sinclair Forrester.”

“Yes, of course,” ástríeur said. “My husband and I are the caretakers. This property is usually used as an artists’ residency house.

We host visitors from all over. Mr. Mercier rented it during the duration of your film shoot.

The cabin that’s being used as the set is just down the road.

There are trailers set up for the actors, and a car will take you back and forth.

” Georgia nodded and she continued, “So, about the house. Common rooms are on this floor: a living room with a television and an old DVD collection, a kitchen that you’re free to use, a dining room where meals are served, and there’s also a self-serve bar and a large workspace that can be used as an office, a rehearsal room, or some have even used it to do yoga, as there’s a sublime view.

There’s also a small library and an even smaller gym.

Just a treadmill, an elliptical machine, and some free weights.

Guest rooms are on the second floor. You’ll be in seven at the end of the hallway,” she said, holding out an old-fashioned skeleton key.

“Thank you,” Georgia replied.

“Mr. Mercier and Mr. Hennesey are relaxing in the dining room. I can take you to join them if you like. I’ve put out afternoon refreshments. Dinner will be served in a couple hours. My husband can assist the driver with your bags. Unless you prefer to get settled in your room.”

“No, I’d love to join the others, please.”

“Right this way,” ástríeur said, while the men ferried the luggage upstairs.

Georgia followed her into a casual dining room featuring wood furniture that matched the floors, with a wall of windows overlooking the volcano. Jean and Michael were sitting at the oval-shaped table, with pots of coffee and tea and a smattering of bite-size sandwiches, pastries, and fruit.

“Georgia!” Michael bellowed, jumping up to hug her. “Great to see you.”

“You too,” she replied.

Jean slowly rose, leaning on his chair for support as he labored to his feet. He looked at her with a glint in his eyes and in his thick French accent said, “ Ma chérie , welcome,” before pecking her on each cheek.

Michael lent Jean a hand as they all sat down.

“Wow, that view is something. I’ve never seen any place like this,” Georgia remarked.

“It’s wild, isn’t it?” Michael asked. “We’re definitely not in Hollywood anymore.”

Georgia giggled. “It should be an amazing backdrop for filming. So otherworldly.”

Jean smirked. “The landscape is actually ugly in a way, all the brown and black rocks and dirt as far as one can see. Yet it’s spectacularly beautiful and singular too.

Breathtaking. Almost as if the ugliness has turned inward on itself, creating something extraordinary, something one can hardly turn away from.

” He stopped to huff before adding, “Beauty from despair. Like much in this fucked-up wasteland we call life.”

“Glad to see age hasn’t softened those hard edges,” Michael joked. He and Georgia both laughed.

Jean shrugged. “We are who we are. Life is what it is.”

“And on that dystopian note, tea or coffee?” Michael asked Georgia, gesturing at the pots.

“Perhaps something a little stiffer after the journey. There’s a bar over there,” Jean said, pointing to the corner. “Your mother has always enjoyed a good bourbon. Your father as well.”

“Maybe tonight after dinner. For now, tea would be lovely.”

“How are your folks?” Michael asked as he poured the tea.

“They’re great. Same as always. You know how they are.

It’s like they’re starring in an epic love story.

They can’t get enough of each other, even after decades together.

Betty and I think it’s super weird,” she replied, making a face.

“When I landed, I got a text letting us know they’re going on some grand trip around the world this summer.

Oh, and their thirtieth wedding anniversary is coming up, so they’re doing a vow renewal.

” Georgia rolled her eyes. “Hopeless romantics.”

The subtlest smile flickered across Jean’s wrinkled face. “Michael, do you remember when Ella and Finn met, during our summer together in Sweden?”

“Oh, yeah,” Michael replied. He looked at Georgia and said, “Your father fell for your mother the second he laid eyes on her. She was a knockout. There was a spark between them. A palpable connection right from the start. We all saw it.”

“They’re pretty much a fairy tale. It’s so strange,” Georgia said. “I mean, who in the real world gets hit by lightning the moment they meet someone and then rides off into the sunset? Who even believes in that?”

Jean’s eyes were intense. He looked as if he was studying her. “You remind me so much of your mother when she was younger, not just your beauty. Ella was always a free spirit too . . . bohemian ideals, wanderlust. She wasn’t exactly ready for your father.”

Georgia raised her eyebrows quizzically and opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Michael said, “Yeah, well we were all young then. Hell, I slept with half the crew and extras on that set. That was before Lauren and I got serious, of course.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Georgia said. “I can’t imagine being tied down. There’s a lot to be said for casual lovers, going with the flow, living freely.”

“Jean’s right. You’re so much like your mother. That must scare the hell out of your father!” Michael joked.

Georgia giggled. “What can I say? I’m all for great sex and big adventures, just not fairy tales.”

Jean pursed his lips, a twinkle in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but ástríeur walked into the room with a tall, dark-haired young man in tow. “Mr. Reed is here,” she announced, before scurrying away.

“Jean, it’s wonderful to see you,” Rupert said in his British accent.

“You as well, Michael. My mother asked me to send her regards to you both,” he added, shaking their hands.

He turned to Georgia and fell silent, staring at her as if no one else were there, his mouth slightly agape.

After a moment, he caught himself and stuttered, “Uh, hello, I’m Rupert.

My uh, my friends call me Roo.” She rose to shake his hand, noticing his striking blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Forgive my cold hands. They don’t call it Iceland for nothing, I suppose,” he finished with a warm smile.

“It’s a pleasure. I’m Georgia.”

He gazed deeply into her eyes like he couldn’t turn away.

“Uh, forgive me. Travel day. Made the mistake of renting a car and driving myself from the airport, so it’s been harrowing.

” She smiled and he continued, “I’ve seen some of your work, but you’re even more beautiful in person. How is it possible?”

She looked down, blushing, and then looked into his eyes and said, “Thank you.”

A long moment passed, their gazes locked and no words spoken, as if they were suspended in time.

Jean and Michael exchanged a glance. Eventually, Michael cleared his throat and said, “Roo, how about some hot tea to warm up?”

“Ah, yes, sure,” Roo stammered, his eyes still glued to Georgia. They smiled bashfully at one another and sat down.

Jean looked them over, smirked, and muttered, “Just like Ella, indeed.”