Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Oh. No. You’re actually my first.”
She seemed shocked. “Are you kidding?”
“No. I didn’t think this was my thing. And it really isn’t. But you’re different. Basically, you had me with “Blue Skies.”
“That’s right. You seemed really interested in that song. You asked me why I’d chosen it. Does it mean something to you?”
My heart felt heavy all of a sudden. “My mother used to sing it to me, actually.”
She nodded. “That’s why you asked me about it.”
“Yeah. It means a lot to me, and I couldn’t believe you’d chosen it. Truthfully, if you hadn’t been singing it, I might have just passed right by you. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, that seems pretty hard to imagine.”
“I love the Frank Sinatra version,” she said.
“Willie Nelson, you mean?”
“Well, he sang one, too. There are many versions of the song.”
I felt dumb for correcting her. Of course, there were different versions. That song was old as hell. That’s why I was so surprised she’d chosen it. But Montana seemed to have an old soul.
One thing was clear to me. She was way more relaxed around me than she seemed in front of the larger audience. I wondered if she was feeling half of what I was right now. It was a feeling I couldn’t quite identify. But it felt damn good, whatever it was.
Montana curled into her mattress. “Well, I’d say maybe we were meant to meet, ScreenGod.”
CHAPTER FOUR
* * *
RYDER
Her real name was Eden.
I’d always suspected the name Montana Lane was as fake as ScreenGod.
For three weeks we’d been chatting in a private room for at least an hour every night. I never asked her to do anything more than talk to me.
I still hadn’t turned the camera on myself, either, so Eden continued to have no idea what I looked like. I preferred to keep things that way for the time being. Was I ever gonna show her my face? Not sure. I was tempted to, so she’d know I wasn’t a freak. But that would take things to a different level for me, one I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
I would’ve booked her for the entire night every night if she would have let me. In fact, I tried. But she didn’t think it was a good idea to disappear entirely from her public audience. She’d lose customers that way, and I understood that; I couldn’t blame her. But damn if I didn’t look forward to our time together after a long day.
Even though we opened up to each other about life and our days, there was a limit to what we shared. I still didn’t know where she lived or any personal details like her last name. We’d agreed to keep it that way for the time being.
She knew my name was Ryder. She knew my favorite food was pizza and my favorite band was Pink Floyd. She knew a lot of things about me, but she didn’t know what I looked like, where I worked, or my last name. Yet at the same time, it didn’t feel like that lack of information mattered. I was starting to feel like we knew each other intimately. And that made me think—who we are in this world has nothing to do with our names, our jobs, our social status, or all the labels we place on one another. It was possible to know someone without any of those things.
I probably would never have thought that before meeting Eden. But she’d shown me that true relationships can be based on how two people connect, their shared ideals and tastes—their overall chemistry. And mine with Eden was off the charts.
***
There was no doubt that working at a movie studio could be invigorating. Employees and crew members mingled with celebrities coming and going. It was a constant rush of energy. But I’d gotten so used to being around famous people, it didn’t faze me anymore.
I’d held lots of different roles at my father’s company, McNamara Studios. Dad made me start at the ground and work up. In high school, I worked at the gate, granting talent and executives access to the lot and turning other people away. I also drove around in a golf cart and fetched food for cast and crew.
Eventually, after graduating from college, I moved to the production side of things, assisting in making sure scripts were finalized, coordinating the filmmaking process, and keeping things on budget. I ended up getting my master’s degree in business from UCLA. My major was film production as an undergrad, but my father wanted me to garner the business knowledge that would be necessary to run the company someday.
As of late, I’d been spending more time off the lot, shadowing Dad in his office downtown. On this particular day, he was raring to go as he sat me down during a work break.