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"Are you Leila?"
I tilted my head toward the deep, sultry and very male voice. My eyes went over a bulging chest, barely contained by a powder blue polo, up until I hit a handsome face I'd seen plastered on glossy movie posters. When he smiled, lines creased around his mouth and eyes as he extended a hand.
"I'm Cade Wallace," he said, dwarfing my hand in his. "Jacob’s secretary told me I could find you down here."
My mouth started working but no words came out. The main reason I hadn't been completely star struck when I met Rachel was because romances and chick flicks were rarely my thing. I preferred to watch things go boom and laugh at roided up men delivering over the top one liners before the bad guys ate a bullet. I'd pretty much seen everything Cade had been in since he became the It guy 5 years ago, drawing comparisons to Bruce Willis with Cruise-like good looks. He definitely had the All-American thing going on with blond hair, green eyes, and a body both men and women salivated over. He was eye candy, sure, but there was always a realness about him that made me seek out his movies with a special brand of voraciousness—even his attempts at more serious, 'actors' movies that took him from a household name to a household joke.
I was sitting there, shell shocked and still shaking his hand as he gave me a strange look and repeated himself.
“I’m guessing your Leila Montgomery? I’m Cade-”
"Oh I know who you are, Mr. Wallace,” I said, finally speaking and knowing that word vomit was about to be in full effect. “I loved you in Medal of Honor and I literally cried in Blood and Chrome. And your storyline in the Last Resort was epic. Oh and Rites of Passage-" I burned red when I realized I was totally fangirling. In front of Cade freaking Wallace. "I'm so sorry." I bit my lip, still not believing he was standing in front of me. “I think you’re amazing.”
"Cade is just fine," he said with another smile that lit up his whole face. "And I always love meeting fans of my work so apologies aren’t necessary."
I cleared my throat, realizing he probably didn’t come over to sign an autograph. "Uh, have a seat. And you can call me Leila."
"Thank you, ma'am." Usually the whole ma'am would completely turn me off, but there was just something about a megastar that hadn't forgotten his down home roots and manners that I found endearing. "I didn't mean to interrupt your lunch-"
"Oh it's fine," I tossed a napkin over my barely eaten sandwich. "I just wasn't expecting to see you until Monday morning."
"Yeah, uh, that's what my assistant had written on the calendar." An awkward silence stretched out between us for a minute until he shuffled in his seat uncomfortably and got on with it. "You know I've been out of town, working on a new movie."
I nodded. "Soldier's Creed." I'd only skimmed the script and flipped through publicity shots on the plane back to the States, but even then I knew this would reinstate him back on the action throne. "I know all of us here can't wait for the premiere. The story sounds amazing."
"It is amazing," he said, arms flexing as he crossed his arms. "It's based on a true story, you know. We flew the guy out on location, got to hear it straight. He was a real fucking hero." His face scrunched as he apologized for the profanity. "Beg your pardon. It was just surreal to see what was written on the paper in the flesh."
"You don't have to apologize." But I felt like I needed to. 'Based on a true story' had become a cliché and I'd assumed they'd taken a grain of truth and turned it into a virtual bread factory of explosions and riveting soundtrack that had very little to do with truth.
"He's a true American hero," Cade continued, looking out the window like something transfixed. "Not a wannabe like me."
“A wannabe?” I repeated.
“National Guard,” he answered quietly. His whole demeanor changed, the sunny, charismatic force somewhat dimmed. He was somber and almost eerily silent compared to the guy who first sat down at my table.
I scooted to the edge of my seat, curious. "I had no idea you were military."
"Yeah," he said gruffly, not meeting my eyes. “I didn’t do anything worth remembering.”
“Don’t say that.” I reached out, putting my hand over his. Something about his demeanor, his sadness, made me forget he was Cade Wallace. “Anyone serving our country, fighting for our freedoms is worth remembering.”
“Is that right?” he said, halfheartedly.
“Yep,” I said firmly. “Most actors can only say they’ve played characters, researching experiences to tell an authentic story. You’ve actually done it.”
He glanced up and his eyes drank in my own nice and slow like he was seeing me in a whole new light. Or maybe even the first time. I pulled my hand away and let out a nervous chuckle, wondering what Cade’s story was, and why in a technology age where every booger celebrities picked was readily available, there was nothing at all listed as far as a military record.
"Anyway,” he began, cutting through my musings, “I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd come and meet the team that's going to help make sure it gets the box office reception it deserves."
I wrung my hands in my lap, refreshing the blush in my cheeks. "I'm just a small part of the team, Mr. Wallace."
"My mother was a nurse. She spent her life doing the grunt work while doctors got all the glory." He winked as he rose to his feet. "Trust me—I know what a big role the small parts play."
I sat a little taller, wishing Natasha or any of the handful of women that had been looking at me like I wasn’t fit to scrub the toilets were around to hear that. "Well, alright then."
"You take care and I'll see you bright and early on Monday." He stopped and turned back to me, giving me another dazzling smile. "It was nice meeting you, Leila."
****
