We were set to meet in a coffee shop a few blocks from my apartment. I had arrived early and sat fidgeting with my cup for the last 15 minutes. There was a notebook in front of me, an open pen, and my phone which I kept checking every five seconds.
Just calm down. He's a person too. Just a human being like you. Nothing to stress about.
How Desi even got him to agree to meet me was an incredible feat. Nevertheless, I felt just like Kate Hudson in How to Lose a Guy In 10 Days: geared up and ready to write the story of a lifetime.
Robin Lewis Moore was one of the rising stars of film. He had grown from being a C lister to a B list celebrity overnight and was quickly rising to the top in the Horror scene. His reputation in the acting community grew with every project and he had a strong background in book adaptations. Albeit most of them were of the Stephen King variety... but who was I to judge? We were both branching out.
According to Desi, Robin's career had taken a nosedive after some tabloid scandal involving a few bottles of champagne and his co-star. All false, we were assured, but it left a mark on his record and movie deals were far and few between since the incident. He needed to rebrand himself, and my book could be the perfect opportunity.
I hesitated to accept his offer because of it... I admit it. But, when his manager reached out to me personally, vouching for his client and assuring me this was a promising enterprise for both Robin and I, I thought my whole apartment building would quake from the excitement I was containing. Besides, I was already so deep in this mess, a small PR risk was one I was willing to take.
Of course, being a minor celebrity myself, I had some experience in meeting famous people. Mostly book people, artists, and interviewers, but I knew my way around the red carpet well too. All of whom I maintained most of my composure. Working personally with an actor though, that was new. So new, that when faced with reality, I started sweating through my shirt, picking my fingernails off, and checking the time compulsively.
I needed this. I needed him. And I have never needed anyone before... but he was the key. If I could collaborate with Robin, make a book, turn that book into a bestseller and have him star in my movie, well, I would feel like I might repay the loyalty of my readers and show gratitude to people who have believed in me from the start. Plus, it would prove to me that I can write more than the same fiction I'd always leaned on.
That consideration calmed me down a bit, and I sipped my coffee. Take a breath. You can do this.
When I opened my eyes, Robin was walking through the coffee shop door. His entrance turned a few heads but not as many as I expected. Then again it was late on a Tuesday morning and there were only about seven people in the coffee shop including myself. He had sunglasses on, but he spotted me right away and walked over waving his hand.
I stood up, flashing my best smile, "Hello, Mr. Moore. It's nice to meet-"
We both stopped as he lowered his glasses. "Wait a second-"
I felt my smile crumble then grow back twice as big from disbelief. "You're...Robin Moore?"
"You're Emelia Aplin?" He looked as shocked as I felt.
"Leah." I say as he approaches tentatively. We both laughed awkwardly. "I can't believe you're...this is crazy."
He folds his sunglasses into his jacket pocket, "I don't know what to say. How are you doing?"
"Well, I'm not hyperventilating, so that's something." I laugh, then shake my head. "I can't believe you even remember me. That was months ago."
"You didn't hyperventilate. I probably would have ruled out the Heimlich sooner if you had." He smiles, and I instantly recall how charming that upside down smile was, even back then. "You leave an impression..."
"A blessing and a curse it seems."
"Which is it today?" His eyes are hazel, and they twinkle a bit when he smiles. Yet, all I can picture is that rumpled guy, staring in horror as I crouched against a wall of beef jerky. I look at his hands, and the cuticles are still all torn up.
I grin, "A blessing."
We both order and sit down, still a little gob smacked. I take a drink and clear my throat, "To be honest, I had a script for this meeting. It was very planned out, and I even rehearsed it, but now." I paused and looked down at my hands, "Now I have no idea where to begin."
"I brushed my teeth three times this morning because I was so distracted." Robin chuckles, "I get where you're coming from."
This relaxes me, "Well then, let's start over. I am Leah, I'm writing a novel, and I'd really like you to be a part of it."
He nods, "I'm Robin, I'm an actor, and I'd really like to help you with this project."
"Admittedly," I start, feeling the words I practiced this morning begin to flow naturally, "This project is unorthodox. How much has your agent told you?"
Robin takes a drink before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He begins to read a message, "Robin, you are meeting Emelia Aplin Tuesday for coffee to talk about a book deal. Be impressive. Your career depends on it. XO. Drew."
I nod, a little less confident in his answer now. "Ahh, I see. So, nothing."
Robin shakes his head, "That's actually more detailed than usual. He must like you."
My laugh comes out nervous and I take a long drink. "Well, um, let me explain what this project is."
He nodded and settled into the seat. His hands wrapped around the cup before him, and he stares at me with all his attention. I lick my lips, "I'm a fiction writer by trade, but recently I signed a contract for my next book to be a romance. I want it to be something new, something that's going to change the game in my genre. To do this, I've decided it's important to do some research..."
"I'm guessing that's where I come in?" Robin raises his eyebrow.
I nod my head, "Yes. It's unorthodox, but I'd like to hire you as an actor to help me do research for my book."
"And what would we be researching?"
I feel my nerves pressing against every inch of my skin. My chest tightens, and I take a subtle breath. "I plan to research as many romance tropes and cliches as possible. They say write what you know, and I want to know romance like the back of my hand. The only way to do that is..."
"To live it yourself?" His tone has changed. It makes me want to shrink into a ball. Great, not only does he know I have panic attacks, but now he thinks I'm a pervert.
"This is not sexual in any nature." I reassure him. "Nor would I expect actual romantic feelings to occur, or I ask you to participate in anything out of line. I am talking traditional, wholesome, PG-13 romance. The rest I can make up while writing."
"And why do you want me for this?"
He's not saying no. He's not saying no.
Hopeful, I continue, "My PR manager and editor were adamant about choosing someone who would not only be ideal for the premise of my book but could potentially act as the love interest when the book gets adapted. I have a special contract and, if I complete it on time, this novel is expected to be adapted for film."
I pause to gauge his attention. He's still watching me carefully, and I feel as if he is listening, so I continue. "Your name came up, as your reputation as an actor is noteworthy, and after speaking to your manager about your.... situation," I pause when he flinches, but then quickly recover by saying, " I feel confident you would be a great lead and the ideal research partner."
"Why only me? Aren't you hiring an actress for the leading role as well? Why not study the two of us and write the novel that way?"
It was the kind of question I initially expected to sting or feel like criticism. But Robin seemed genuinely curious, so I nodded, "That's a good question, and I considered it at first. But I write in the first person from the main character's point of view. I could hire an actress to do the research project, but I wouldn't be able to describe her feelings as well as if they were my own. It's hard enough to get into a character's head let alone have to translate it through two mediums."
"And what about me? Will you be asking me about my thoughts and feelings during this project?"
"Yes," I confirm, "But it will be more like running a simulation or blocking a scene. I want someone to work off, so that I can understand the characters and their dynamic. When they talk to me, I want to truly know how they feel and think. It's also a chance to disprove all the fluff that comes with certain tropes. I want my book to feel as close to the real thing as possible while still being a work of fiction. I think that's what's going to make this book different. Or I'm hoping at least."
He seems to get the reference, "So essentially you want to be the Myth Busters of romance novels to make the ultimate romance novel?"
I laughed a little bit, "And here I was worried you might not understand."
"It is a little bizarre." He admits, but it doesn't look judgmental. "What are the terms?"
Reaching into my bag I pull out the legal documents and the written contract. "This is what my legal team wrote out. The contract has the terms listed out in bold there." I point to the bold section in the middle of the page. "I am open to adjustments if you feel they're necessary. I also had them print the project beginning and end dates, commission, and terms of the acting agreement if you are inclined to take that position as well. You are the first choice,"
He pulls the paper toward him, scanning it quietly.
"Take your time to think about it. There's no rush."
He doesn't respond, but rather continues reading. We sit in silence for the next 10 minutes as he meticulously combs through every word, not looking up once. Each page he turns over is simultaneously an arrow in my stomach and the wings of hope beating in my chest. My coffee is gone by the time Robin looks up.
"I have one condition."
Yes. OH MY GOD. YES!!
I nod professionally, "Tell me."
Robin holds my gaze with seriousness. It's a strange feeling to be looked at so earnestly by someone I barely know. "I want to know you'll keep your word."
I'm not sure how to prove it to him, but I swallow down my nerves, "You can trust me to do as I say."
He looks at me for a long time, "Alright. My condition is this: no scandals. My career is at a turning point, I can't afford to be in a scandal of even minor proportions. Can your company, can you, guarantee that you will protect my image from that while we do this project."
"I can't guarantee that," I respond, meeting his gaze as openly as possible. "I wish I could, but the reality is if you agree to this project, we will spend a lot of time together. There may be a risk of some rumors flying about. But I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to protect and uplift your career through this partnership. I will not put you in jeopardy. Your success is my success."
Something flickers across his face, and he leans back. I've lost him. It sinks into my stomach like a stone. My face heats up, and I wish I hadn't drunk all my coffee. At least I would have been able to pretend I was drinking instead of visibly showing how close I was to throwing up. Taking my time, I really studied his face, hoping to catch a hint of what he was thinking. I get nothing, and in turn, find myself in despair at how well he would play a character of mine.
Clear skin, but not flawless, groomed nails, moisturized lips, nice smile, unwrinkled clothes. Plus, when he moved a burst of his cologne would float across the table: he smelled musky at first like bergamot or amber, but also clean like lemon or lavender. It was the most attractive smell to ever float off a man. And I had been in a room with many expensive smelling men in my time.
His hair was straight and light brown. It ended just above his eyebrows and was cut a little shorter on the sides. It made him look expensive but approachable. His lashes and eyebrows were slightly darker than his hair, and I wondered if they dyed his hair for his latest role. I remembered his hair a few shades darker. As for his eyes, I liked the hazel color of them, and took to thinking of how I could describe them for my character. Of course, I would make the love interest's a little greener in the book, but Robin's eyes suited him well, especially when they crinkled at the sides.
Polished, polite, and perfect. Perfect for this book. For the first time I found it strange that he should be a horror movie actor... He was born to play a love interest. I groaned internally, three seconds from dropping to my knees and begging him to reconsider.
Just when I expect Robin to reject me, he sighs and nods his head, "Alright. I'm in."
My jaw drops, "Really? You'll do it?"
He nods, smiling softly, "I'll do it."
I bite down on my lip, trying not to smile as wide as my face will allow but it does nothing to stop my lips from spreading ear to ear. I thrust my hand out to the center of the table eagerly. He chuckles and shakes it. My soul beams through my skin and I can't help but let out an excited little squeal.
----
Whhhaatttt??? You mean Robin is him? That guy? Who saw that coming??? Psshhtt. I, for one, was baffled.....
Okay, seriously are they cute or what? I am so excited for them to start the project! I'm too excited to write this message because I want to go and write more. :>
BYE~ don't forget to vote, comment, and share!
With love,
e.g.