Diary of a Size 12

Chapter 5

Enjoying lunch with a movie star... not as glamorous as it may sound. He's a movie star, meaning Paparazzi all around. They were waiting for him – correction, us – outside the von Hauser building. Dozens of them! I felt claustrophobic, not glamorous at all. They pushed, yelled questions and the flashes were everywhere. Lucky for me, Mr. Rush had a private driver waiting for him, along with two big bulging men that were part of the building's Security. Once we were in the black car, panting and sweating, I looked at my hands and saw them shake.

"You look overwhelmed" He noted, sitting across me, frowning.

"I am" I had to admit, swallowing hard.

He nodded once and pressed a button on a black controller in the door. A small compartment with icy flutes and a bottle of white wine opened.

"Want some wine?" He asked, serving two flutes.

"Not a good idea." I had to admit "Wine makes me lightheaded, and I'm shaky enough as it is."

We drove up Manhattan onto Central Park. The Boathouse is an amazing restaurant right in the center of the big garden, with a view to the lake that was very romantic and almost magical. We arrived and immediately were escorted to our table on the deck. It was a nice square table with two seats and pink flowers in the center. The sunshine made a very beautiful rainbow over the tablecloth.

"Have you ever had lunch here?"

"Not really. Always wanted to, but never got a reservation" I smiled, looking around the packed deck overlooking the lake, where people enjoyed a nice gondola ride.

"I love coming here in the summer. It's the most beautiful time in New York" Mr. Rush said, smiling.

"I actually like it better during winter. The snow and Christmas lights always make me happy."

"Is that so? Why?" He wanted to know.

People were staring. I mean, this was a major movie star having lunch with an unknown woman.

"Don't you get... stressed out with all the people staring?" I whispered, leaning over the table.

"I don't mind." He assured me, chuckling "I'm used to it, I'm afraid."

Of course he was...

"So how's your job doing?"

"Downhill" I smiled.

"What?" He frowned.

"Well, we're just not good together, that's it."

"You're quitting?"

"No." I frowned, offended "I know he's gonna fire me, alright? It's not a big surprise, it was never meant to last."

"What happened?"

"I forgot about a meeting and he freaked out..."

"Ah..." He sighed.

"Can I ask you something, Mr. Rush?"

"Not unless you call me Piet" He winked.

"Alright." I chuckled "I need to know something. It's not for gossip purpose, I promise. I'm honestly worried."

"What is it?"

"Here's what I know so far." I told him, opening my notebook – which made him chuckle – and reading my 'Julian facts' "He hates things out of place; gets really pissed if someone touches his stuff; he washes his hands a bajillion times and I'm pretty sure he had a panic attack yesterday."

Mr. – Piet was quiet for a few seconds.

"Julian has... a condition." He started, playing with his tall glass of white wine "It's called OCD."