Better than the Book (Charitable Endeavors #4) - M.E. Carter Page 0,3
hundred bucks since she never paid me back for that pogo stick she bought.”
She really does. It was during her alternative exercise phase and she was convinced jumping up and down on a stick had some sort of muscle building properties. That died a quick death when she ate it on the pavement her first time. Now she claims amnesia for her IOU.
“Will do. Love ya, friend.”
“Back atcha.”
I shuffle the twenty feet from the couch to my bed and climb in, tossing my phone on the small dresser beside me.
For just a minute I entertain the idea of trying to write the screenplay I’ve been working on. But I can’t muster enough energy to grab it off my small nightstand before I’m asleep, dreaming of Hunter Stone’s beautiful face and throwing up all over his shoe.
Chapter Two
Celeste
One Year Later
“I am so excited!” I singsong to myself as I do some last minute touches on my hair and make-up.
Today is the day I’ve been waiting for since my unfortunate flu last year. It is the day that I will finally meet Hunter Stone. I have tickets in my purse to prove it and have checked my temperature twice this morning to ensure I won’t have a repeat of last year’s fiasco.
Yesterday was actually the first day of the convention and while it was beyond amazing, it was a little, well, paranormal. It was a small price to pay to see so many of Hunter’s new fans. His popularity has increased tremendously since his character is doing more on screen than nodding and showing his fangs. The word is seeing what I’ve always known—Hunter’s talent is hard to ignore.
The only downside to this year’s event is the steep price of the tickets I bought for a photo opportunity and autograph session. Those were more expensive than last year, but I have no doubt they’ll be totally be worth it.
Admittedly, so far, the entire event has been worth it. Even for a non-paranormal fan like me. There are all kinds of vendors in the lobby of the hotel selling swag and paraphernalia. And I had to have the super cute T-shirt I found with Hunter’s face on it. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a size that will fit my Double-D’s, but my hunt is not over. I’ve got two more days to search the piles.
Once they opened the doors to the giant ballroom yesterday and welcomed us in, we watched some of the stars strut on stage and then listened to them talk about pranks on the set and the non-glamourous side of creating a TV show. The stage manager in me enjoys hearing what goes on behind the scenes of any production so I found it very interesting.
Not as interesting was the super fangirl who asked the first Q&A question, and promptly brought up the naked photo of the leading man that was leaked a couple years ago. It was obvious he was less than happy to be reminded of the encounter, probably because it was his ex-wife who was responsible for the incident during their dramatic and very public divorce. Awkward.
I have to hand it to him, though. He put on that actor mask pretty damn quick and told her off without actually telling her off. It was impressive. Maybe Hunter isn’t the only phenomenal actor on this show.
Glancing at the clock on my wall, I realize I need to hurry. It’s a five block walk to the subway and I can’t chance being late. Photo ops start before the rest of the convention and I don’t want to be rushed through my time.
Moving my partially written screenplay over, I grab my stuff, double checking to make sure not only are the tickets are tucked safely in my crossbody purse but also the “Get Up” playbill. I can’t forget that. It’s the whole reason I’m going. To get it signed and tell Hunter how moved I was during the entire show.
Content that I have everything I need, I head out of the loft and down the street.
It’s a beautiful fall morning and I’m reminded once again that I’m blessed to be living in the city I love working in an industry I love. I may not be rolling in the dough and my diet may consist mostly of Ramen, but I never take any of it for granted. Living here, working in theater, my soul comes alive. To me, that’s worth more than an apartment across the street from Central Park.