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“Basket food? My favorite,” she says with an adorable grin.
“And the best part is, I only picked foods that won’t stain our clothes if we drop them.”
“Genius.”
“I have my moments. Dig in,” I tell her, plucking a grape out of the bunch.
“I’m actually starving,” Allie says, picking up a cracker and placing a slice of white cheddar on it.
“I figured you might be. Women never seem to eat before these things,” I answer. “They’re always too busy getting ready.”
“It really was so much more work than I thought it would be. I can see why a lot of celebrities have an entire team for these types of things.”
“Yeah, that’s why I generally don’t show up at most of the award shows. I can’t stand the idea of wasting an entire afternoon having my hair done when I could be out surfing or doing something else I love.”
She has a bite of cheese and cracker, and I watch her while she chews and swallows it, knowing she has something to say. “But the guys must not need hours to get ready, right? Can’t you just throw on a tux and go?”
“Oh God, you should see all the stuff we do. Skin treatments, hair masks, it’s a whole thing. Mind you, it’s a lot easier than what the women are doing, but still, it’s ridiculous.”
“Do you ever want to just quit?” Allie asks, her enormous brown eyes fixed on me.
My gut tightens at the thought of my career ending. “I don’t know what else I’d do.”
“You could … open a surf shop or go back to college and become something boring like an engineer or a lawyer.”
“I like the surf shop idea,” I answer. “Somewhere down in Mexico maybe, right on the beach. That sounds pretty good.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” she says. “Afternoon siestas in a hammock under some palm trees, watching the sun set over the water every night.”
“Oh man, my agent is going to hate you because you’re literally talking me into giving it all up.”
We both laugh a little, then her face grows serious. “We can’t have that. You’ve got dozens of wonderful movies to make.”
“Well, one, anyway,” I tell her. “After that, who knows? Maybe I will be waxing surf boards for a living.”
“You’re worried about it, aren’t you?”
Nodding, I say, “This one is … really important. If I don’t blow the audience away, and more importantly, the critics, I’m done for.”
She scrunches up her face in confusion. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most popular actors in the world.”
“Yeah, as the young, fun guy, but my last couple of movies didn’t perform the way they used to, and I made one a few months ago that tested so poorly, the studio decided not to put it out,” I tell her, my jaw clenching.
“Oh Hudson, I’m sorry. That sounds awful. All that hard work for nothing,” she says, placing her hand over mine. It’s warm and soft and comforting, and I flip my hand so I can lace my fingers through hers. We both stare at our intertwined hands, and for a brief second, I’m worried that she’s going to pull away, but she doesn’t. She looks up at me instead. “But I’m sure it wasn’t you. It must have been a bad script or poor directing.”
Shaking my head, I say, “The audience didn’t like me in it. They actually said I should’ve been the villain.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, not ideal.”
“So that’s why you’re here. I thought it was just a PR thing.”
“That’s part of it, for sure. Laying the groundwork for my new image. I have to convince the world I am Dr. David Todd, or this whole life,” I say, pointing around the limo, “is over. And even though there are parts of it I don’t enjoy, I really love the job itself. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been really good at, you know? And if I lose that, I don’t know who I’ll be.”
“You won’t lose it, Hudson. But even if you did, or you decided to walk away, there’s so much more to you than just your acting ability.”
I shake my head. “Before I got into this, I literally never had a day in my life when I felt remotely good about myself. I was pretty much just a screw-up.”
