Page 71 of Love On and Off Set

“We’ll stop at a wine store before heading over. The weather’s supposed to be nice, so why don’t we walk? To the Quay, I mean. Quick hop on the SeaBus and their condo is about a twenty-minute walk.”

“Sounds great. Won’t be too hot?”

I checked the forecast. “A bit cooler tomorrow. We should be fine. There’s a nice wine store by Waterfront Station. A lovely bottle of Okanagan red would be great.”

“Okanagan?”

“That’s a wine region in the interior of British Columbia.” I waved my hand eastward. “Heading toward Alberta.”

He cocked his head. “Didn’t you say Alberta was like Nebraska?”

“Yes, on many levels.”

“Right. And Okanagan’s before that?”

“Between here and the Rocky Mountains, yeah.”

“I want to see the Rocky Mountains. I mean, I drove through them to get to Stanford, but I’d like to see them, you know, as a tourist. Not some teenager hellbent on getting out of Dodge.”

Showing him was out of the question. Suggesting we might do anything other than work alongside each other to get through this film was absurd. And yet I couldn’t deny the pull was still as strong as it had been seven years ago. I cleared my throat. “Maybe someday you will.”

“Yeah.” He put his fork down. “I was telling my publicist I was thinking of heading to New York when I’m done filming. A fresh start.”

My jaw dropped. “You don’t want to go back to LA?”

He shrugged. “Not exactly anything waiting for me there.”

“Andreas—”

He popped up. “So can I get my script and we can do lines?”

“Well, sure.”

He piled our plates and headed down the stairs.

I could’ve followed, of course. We still had our glasses of soda to finish, though, and I suspected he needed time. So I sipped my drink and waited for him to return.

Chapter Seven

Andreas

“Okay, so your friend is Troy.”

“Yes.” Freddie kept up with my loping stride as we walked south from the water and over to Yaletown in downtown Vancouver.

“And he’s dating Rocco.”

“Yes. They’re living together.”

“And Troy’s best friend is Marco.” I was about to try to cross, but the hand was flashing and Freddie put his hand out to stop me. I huffed my displeasure.

“Yes. Marco and Troy were friends growing up.”

“Okay.” I frowned. “Rocco is Marco’s dad.”

A cyclist came out of nowhere and blew through the red light.

Thank God the intersection’s empty. I would’ve expected more people on a Sunday afternoon.