So there he was. The guy who asked me out the night before. The one who almost but not really stood me up. The one who was gorgeous with perfect hair, a perfect body, and a perfect smile. The one who was also Lincoln Shepherd, movie star.
And there I was. Speechless. Standing there like an idiot, my mouth hanging wide open, while we stood in front of the bathrooms. Cait Vega, complete moron.
"What are you doing here?" Andrew asked, breaking the awkward silence.
"I, um...I live here," I cleared my throat, scolding myself inwardly for sounding stupid. "Not here here, but in Brooklyn. In...I'm, um....I'm here with friends."
I'm pretty sure I could bash my head into the wall and it would be less embarrassing than the word vomit that just tumbled out of my mouth. If he wasn't convinced that he wasn't interested in me after I walked away from him on the street last night, pretty sure this was going to seal the deal.
"Nice," he chuckled, and I caught myself appreciating the way his lips curled up at the corners in a slight smile. "Have you been here before?"
I laughed, stepping closer to him to shift out of the path to the bathroom door as a woman squeezed behind me, "Me? No. I don't really get out much."
"Or at all," Val appeared behind Andrew's shoulder, smiling as she stepped around him to join me. "I've been looking for you, who i--oh my god."
I bit my lip, terrified about what was going to happen next, but Andrew just smiled graciously at her. Val was stupefied, and she gaped at him until I elbowed her in the ribcage hoping to snap her out of it.
"Are you a friend of Cait's?" Andrew asked warmly.
Val didn't answer, so I grabbed her arm and tugged her against my side, "This is my roommate, Val. She's a huge fan."
As if this whole situation wasn't awkward enough already, Val's look of awe morphed into a look of confusion as she stared between the two of us. Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.
"Wait a second," she furrowed her eyebrows. "How do you two know each other?"
"We don't," I rushed out, cutting Andrew off. "I mean, um...we just met."
Andrew lifted an eyebrow, and Val somehow seemed to regain her composure as she processed what I said. Smiling at him, she nodded, as if accepting my answer, and pointed to the door that led back to the garden.
"Well, we have some friends waiting for us out back," she said politely, and I nearly sighed audibly in relief at the prospect of an exit. "Would you like to join us for a drink?"
And there it went.
At least she didn't say anything about wanting to have his babies, right?
"Sure," Andrew replied, smiling broadly. "I'd love to."
Val stifled an excited squeal, "Really? I mean...great. We'll meet you out there?"
"Yeah," he said. "Let me go say something to the people I came with."
She nodded, and Andrew disappeared into the crowd. Tugging me toward the back door, Val began to chatter excitedly about how she couldn't believe that she met Lincoln Shepherd and now he was actually going to hang out with us. Her words went in one ear and out the other, and I pulled my arm out of her grip before we stepped outside.
"You go ahead," I told her. "I forgot something. I'll be right back."
Before she could say otherwise, I slipped back into the crowd and headed in the direction Andrew disappeared. He was wearing a navy blue button down, making it harder to find him in the dim lighting of the bar area, so I stood on my tiptoes in an attempt to locate him by his dark hair and height. Unsuccessful, I squeezed behind two couples nursing expensive-looking cocktails, and suddenly there he was.
"You okay?" Andrew asked, grabbing my forearm lightly to steady me since I nearly ran right into him.
"Yeah," I nodded. "I just wanted to apologize. I didn't know you were here. I'm not stalking you or anything, and you don't have to join us. Val is just really enthusiastic, and she used to love watching you in that show..."
Andrew laughed, cutting me off, "Cait, it's okay. Really."
"I'm sorry," I repeated, flushing pink.
"Stop apologizing." Motioning to the table of people leaning toward us, clearly interested in our conversation, Andrew grinned, "These are my friends."
I lifted a hand in an awkward wave as they all smiled back at me, and I recognized several of the guys as Andrew's cast mates from the show Val loved to watch. I was surprised to see them hanging out together years after the show ended, but for some reason it made me happy to know that they were still friends. It was almost like it was a testament to Andrew's personality if his old coworkers wanted to stay in touch with him even after they were no longer paid to pretend to be friends.
His hand was still wrapped around my forearm, and he pulled me away from the table a bit to give us a bit of privacy and took a step toward me. Suddenly, everything about him was invading my space. His height, his scent, his very personality, and - instead of feeling uncomfortable - I felt oddly warm.
"Listen, if you don't want me to join you and your friends, that's fine," he said softly. "I can tell your roommate that something came up and that I need to leave."
Surprised that he'd do that for me, I shook my head. As much as I wanted to avoid running into him, I know that having drinks with Lincoln Shepherd would be the highlight of Val's year - probably her decade - and I didn't want to be the one to take that away from my roommate.
"You don't have to do that," I replied sheepishly. "I just wanted to apologize for any weirdness and to explain why I said I didn't know you."
He shrugged, "It's complicated. I get that."
"It's very complicated," I muttered under my breath, before smiling up at him. "I did tell her about you though. My roommate."
Lifting an eyebrow, Andrew looked confused, "You did? But I thought..."
"Yeah," I admitted. "I, um...I told her about Andrew. I didn't really know how to explain the whole Lincoln thing, and I know how much she likes you, so I--"
"It's okay," he reassured me as he smiled, the full brilliant force of it lighting up his face. "Really."
Dropping his hand from my forearm, we moved back to his table of friends and I rubbed the place where his hand rested with my other hand. I could still feel it. The pressure of his hand against my skin, the way his thumb brushed against the bare skin near my wrist when he released my arm. It sent a ripple of electricity up my arm, my skin erupting into goosebumps, and I resisted the urge to shiver.
Instead, I forced a timid smile and stepped up next to him as he introduced me to his friend. His hand touched the small of my back, a reflex I'm not sure he noticed as he ushered me closer to the table, but every nerve ending in my body was on fire from the connection. I tried to commit each name to memory as he introduced me to the table, smiling politely as each of them offered up niceties, but I struggled to maintain my focus. Even when I spoke, my words slipped out of my mouth with little awareness as to what I was saying. I stuck to generalities, and - before I knew it - we were saying goodbye to his friends and hello to mine.
It took about ten minutes for Val and Roxanne to resume normal brain function after Andrew joined us at our table in the outside patio, but Anastasia jumped right into conversation with him. Instead of blabbing about how much she loved his work and how hot he was, she launched into a conversation about gender bias on a global scale. Surprisingly enough? He seemed to love it.
"I mean, if actresses can't even get equal pay between men and women," Anastasia ranted, "what hope do normal people have? These are people - like Jennifer Lawrence - with the ability to write a letter that goes viral and gets picked up on every major media network. It's great and good, and I'm glad they're shedding light on the situation, but I can't do that. If I make less than my male counterpart at work, and I do, I can't write a letter trying to draw national attention to it. One, no one would read it," she laughs, "and two, I would probably get fired."
"I agree," Andrew responded. "But all we can hope is for a trickle down effect. Maybe if the conversation of the pay gap is brought into the light enough times, we can advance efforts to close it. Granted, I don't want it to get fixed with one segment of the population and not another. There's enough of income disparity in our country as it is. We need it the problem to be solved across the board, not just in the upper brackets of earners."
Roxanne nodded, "What's it like as a man in the film industry? Do you see this happening to your costars? What do you do about it? Nothing?"
"Absolutely not, as a guy...it's easy to ignore it because it doesn't impact you, but you can't do that," he told her, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "While it doesn't impact us overtly, I do think it changes the industry as a whole. With such a big gap between the genders, we're missing out on the potential that can be brought to the table by women and minorities. It's more than just equal pay for equal work, we need equal opportunities as well. We need more women in Hollywood. Whether that's directors or producers, film roles, etcetera. We also need more diversity."
Val gaped at him as he continued, "I can't tell you the number of friends I have who can't find work because it's constantly taken by yet another white dude. And, unfortunately, I'm one of them. I can speak out about the issue and I've turned down roles in the past when I've felt like I'm being treated too favorably, but I still want to work, you know? So it's tough. I think acknowledging it as a problem is only the first step, and next - as a man - I need to strive to ensure that the projects I work on, especially since I hope to dabble with directing in the future, provide those equal opportunities - for both work and compensation."
Damn.
I didn't expect him to say that, and I don't think Roxanne did either. Anastasia, a diehard feminist and the sane one of the three, was now staring at him with the same awestruck look that painted Val's features when she first met him. Andrew glanced at me out of concern, almost as if he were asking if he said something wrong, and I resisted the urge to laugh.
Smiling back at him, I realized there might be more to this man than the internet and the media had made him out to be.
Sure, he was gorgeous, but he was also intelligent, well-informed, passionate, and - something that shocked me - a little self-conscious. His cheeks were tinted red after Anastasia complimented his mini-speech, mumbling 'well said' under her breath while she gulped down the rest of her margarita, and he adjusted his seat nervously.
The next time we made eye contact, I found myself drifting in the blue-green sea in his eyes. He grinned, the corners of his lips curling upward in a way that completely altered his appearance, and I realized that it was the first time he'd smiled like that all night.
Reserved and a little uncertain, this smile reminded me of a shy boy from my middle school who hated speaking out in class for fear of sounding stupid. He never raised his hand, always afraid of being mocked if he was incorrect, but when he finally did risk it - when he finally shared his opinion with the class - the teacher stared at him in shock. That quiet boy might have been a bit reserved, but it was obvious from that point on that there was a lot more to him hidden beneath the surface.
I started to realize that the same could be said for Andrew, and - if I was honest with myself - I wanted to find out what was waiting for me in the depths of his character.
About this chapter:
Andrew's speech on the pay gap in Hollywood is inspired by a quote by Chris Evans. The pay gap is a serious issue, not just in Hollywood, as women are not receiving the same pay for the same work. It's also an issue among minorities.
This isn't a question of 'well, I'm a woman with 1 year experience as a web developer so I should earn as much as a man with 5 years experience', because - in that case - experience dictates earning (as it should). However, there are many women and minorities earning less than men with the same amount of experience doing the same jobs at the same companies. That's messed up.
Remember, whenever you're applying or interviewing for a job, don't be afraid to ask for more. Get what you deserve, not some arbitrary thing they tell you that you deserve.
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