The Other Side of Someday (13 page)

“We call it WeHo. It’s known for its very large homosexual population and gay bars. Your Dennis is gay.”

“There’s no way. I don’t believe it.”

“Suit yourself,” Sebby sang. “What does he do for a living?”

“I’m not entirely sure. He mentioned something about being an actor, but I don’t know if it’s a full-time thing for him.”

Sebby grinned.

“Don’t even…!” I shoved him playfully.

“Come on, Dixie.” He slung his arm over my shoulder and pulled me back to the couch. “Let’s finish watching our movie. It’s
fabulous
!”

C
HAPTER
T
EN

“C
OME
ON
, B
AYLEE
!”
A
voice bellowed the following morning, coupled with an obnoxious knocking. “Let’s get going!”

I ran to the front door and flung it open, smiling at Sebby standing in the hallway, a backpack slung over his shoulder. His hair was damp from a shower, a bit of scruff visible on his chin. I normally wasn’t a fan of men who didn’t shave on a daily basis, but there was something about the bit of facial hair on Sebby that made my mouth water.

“What exactly do you have planned for today? What’s in the backpack? We’re not going to rob any banks, are we?” I had no idea what we would be doing. All I knew was he had told me to dress comfortably with good walking shoes, so I opted for a loose-fitting yellow tunic-style sweater, dark jeans, and a pair of pink Converse. It was cute but comfortable at the same time.

“No, Baylee.” He held his hand out and I took it, allowing him to lead me down the hallway and toward the elevator. “We’re not going to rob any banks… Well, I don’t think we are.” He winked just as we began our descent to the lobby.

“Then where are you taking me?”

“Everywhere.” He grinned his devious smile at me. “This town is full of inspiration. Maybe we’ll find your story today. And I’m sure we can cross a few more items off that list of yours.”

The elevator doors opened and he took long steps through the lobby. I chased after him. “Like what?” I prayed he hadn’t done something crazy, like book us a skydiving lesson. Most normal people who had only known each other a few weeks wouldn’t do that, but I was beginning to learn there was nothing normal about Sebby.

“I’m not quite sure yet, but I have a few ideas. As your new
fabulous
BFF,” he continued, his tone light before turning serious once more, “it’s my job to show you around your new city and hope that something you see inspires you to finally pursue your dreams, not to mention get you on the road to crossing that item off your mother’s list. There’s no better place than LA, a town that was built on people’s hopes, aspirations, and dreams. That’s what I’m going to show you today.”

He turned from me and strode toward the large glass doors, the passion with which he spoke leaving me speechless. In all my twenty-eight years, not one man had ever been able to do that.

“Good morning, Mr. Powers. Miss Morgan,” Jeffrey said as I caught up to Sebby and we walked outside together. “Big plans today?”

“Well, yes. I’m hoping to show Baylee what an invigorating city LA can be. She’s a writer looking for her story.”

“Is that right?” he said. “Have you written anything I may have heard of?”

“No. Unless you’ve read my eighth grade diary about how dreamy Logan Benson, my secret crush, was.”

Jeffrey smirked. “Can’t say I have. Good luck. I hope Mr. Powers is able to show you what you’re looking for.”

He gestured to the valet attendant who had just pulled up in a stunning black Camaro, the engine rumbling as it idled. Sebby held the door open for me, helping me in like a perfect gentleman.

“Wow. Nice car. Dad would certainly approve,” I commented.

“Good to know.” He ran around to the other side of the car, getting behind the wheel.

“He loved muscle cars,” I explained, trying to make conversation as he pulled onto San Vicente, heading east along the tree-lined boulevard. “My dad, that is. He had a sixty-nine Z28. Is that what this is?”

A boyish grin crossed Sebby’s face. “Yeah. Well, not a sixty-nine.”

“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes.

“I swore I would never spend more than fifty thousand on a car, which goes against the typical mentality out here, but I couldn’t resist. The second I test drove this bad boy, I was sold.”

“I’m jealous.” I caressed the dashboard, feeling the vibrations of the engine on my palm.

“If you want, I’ll let you drive it. You
do
know how to drive a stick, right?”

“Of course I do! What kind of question is that?”

“Mercedes doesn’t even know how to drive.”

I tilted my head at him, pressing my lips together.

“My girlfriend,” he explained, answering the question that was readily apparent on my face. I couldn’t help but get the feeling he didn’t like talking about her around me. If we were going to be the friends he said we could be, I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable sharing parts of himself with me…including stories about his girlfriend. Yes, I had thought there could have been something between Sebby and me, but that was all ancient history now. At least that was what I needed to tell myself every time he smiled and those unruly butterflies danced in my stomach.

“I’m sorry. I never even asked her name.”

“It’s okay.”

“So she doesn’t drive?” I inquired. “I couldn’t imagine.”

“She was born and raised in Manhattan, so she never saw the need to learn. I definitely found it odd, considering I couldn’t wait until I got my license.”

“And she’s still in New York?” I asked, recalling his and Marcel’s conversation at Sophia’s Halloween party.

“She’s one of those lifelong New York residents. According to her, the world begins and ends at the Hudson. Or, better yet, it begins and ends at Fifth Avenue.” He let out a barely noticeable sigh before readjusting his expression, smiling once more. “She says there’s an electricity running through the pavement like a current that keeps her breathing. She loves it.”

Studying him, I knew I was taking a risk asking my next question, but I just had to know. “Do you?”

He kept his eyes glued to the road. “I like to visit. I know I’m going to have to make the leap and move there at some point if I want our relationship to work, but I’m not ready to say goodbye to LA just yet. I grew up in Jersey. I woke up to the New York cityscape every day. While New York is as good as LA for what I do, it’s not the same. It’s busy. People don’t look each other in the eyes. They’re all in such a rush to get where they’re going, they let life pass them by. Granted, LA is a little like that, too, but it’s different. Yes, our driving can be a bit aggressive, especially on the freeway, but there’s more of a laid back mentality out here.”

He pressed a button and the sunroof opened, bathing us in that California sunshine that had infected my soul over the past month. “Maybe all the sunshine has a good effect on people.” He glanced at me.

“How did you two meet?” I pushed, wanting more of their backstory. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but something about the way he spoke of their relationship didn’t add up. The way he defended her to Marcel painted a picture of a man hopelessly devoted to a woman men would bend over backwards to be around. But now, I was getting a different side of the story.

“On a shoot,” he answered. “It was about five years ago. I was on location in New York at some high-class art gallery in SoHo.”

“Was she an extra or something?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Although she could be,” he added quickly. “She’s gorgeous.” A wide grin spread across his face and I could almost see his eyes gleaming beneath his dark sunglasses. It was the first genuine reaction I saw from him when speaking of Mercedes, but it was fleeting. Too soon, his smile faded and he let out another small sigh. “Actually, she’s the manager of the gallery. She’s your stereotypical New York art snob, and I say that with the utmost respect to her.” He glanced at me before returning his eyes to the road.

“She grew up wealthy, studied art, and is now one of the foremost art appraisers in the city. We started seeing each other while I was in town on the shoot. I even stayed in New York a little longer to spend more time with her. Right before I was slated to head back to LA, I was offered a job producing a series that was shooting in New York. It was kind of out of nowhere and, based on the connections she has, I couldn’t help but think she had something to do with it. I turned it down.”

“Why?”

“A series would be great. It’s a steady job, instead of always wondering if you’ll be able to line up another gig, and I was still kind of new in the industry at the time. But it wasn’t a good enough reason to leave LA. My gut told me it wasn’t the right time for a move, so I stayed here. I’m glad I did because not even a month later, I landed my first feature film.”

“And she’s okay with the long-distance thing?”

“I suppose.” He shrugged as we pulled up to a stoplight. I got the impression this was probably a contentious issue between them, but Sebby didn’t want to admit it. “It’s only a six-hour flight, so it could be worse. And it gives us time apart to live our own lives.” The light turned green and he peeled away, slamming the shifter from first to second.

“Well,” I said, my voice bright. His body language made it obvious he didn’t want to talk about his relationship anymore, but was too nice to say anything. “It sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

He met my eyes briefly, a blank expression on his face as he studied me. I had only known this man for a little over a month, but I had become familiar with his little idiosyncrasies. Something about the way he regarded me at that moment, the torn and pained expression on his face, made me think he was starting to question whether he really
did
have it all figured out.

“I’ve definitely got a good thing going.” He looked back at the road. Inhaling deeply, he glanced skyward and I followed his line of sight to see the brilliant sunshine above us. “Plus, why would you want to live anywhere else?” He gestured to the picturesque sky. The temperature was a comfortable sixty-five degrees. People in New York were probably shoveling snow and wearing heavy winter coats. “There’s no place like California.”

“You really love it here, don’t you?” The unease that had engulfed him seconds ago was replaced with a child-like zeal.

“I do. Just knowing you’re walking on the same streets where all these Hollywood legends once walked… There’s something just so—”

“Magical,” I breathed out, cutting him off.

“That’s exactly how I would put it, too.”

It was silent for a moment as he turned onto Wilshire, driving past the Veteran’s Administration, then taking a few more turns.

“This is Century City,” he pointed out. I had absolutely no idea where I was in relation to the famous Los Angeles landmarks I had seen on TV or in the movies. “This used to be the backlot of the old Twentieth Century Fox studios.”

I stared out the window. Where I imagined there was once a sprawling complex now sat high-rise buildings and shopping centers.

“They sold the land to developers in the early sixties after losing a ton of money on
Cleopatra
,” Sebby explained.

“Where are the studios now?”

“Just a few blocks over.” He gestured with his head.

“Wow,” I murmured in complete awe. “It’s kind of surreal knowing people are creating movies just a few yards away.”

“Isn’t it? Starting to feel inspired?”

I leaned back in my seat, staring up at the palm trees lining the street. I remembered my father taking me to Disney World when I was a little girl. As we neared Florida, I always grew excited to see the palm trees. I always imagined living in a place where I would be surrounded by them. Now I was. I closed my eyes briefly, allowing the sun to warm my skin, and felt a sense of drive. Sebby was right. I had only been in the car for a matter of minutes, but I was already starting to feel inspired to find my story.

 
“I hate to admit it, but I am.”

We drove in relative silence as Sebby navigated the streets of LA, pointing out landmarks every now and then. Our journey soon took us down Rodeo Drive and I gawked at the high-end stores lining the street.

“Want to go shopping?” he asked when he saw my impressed expression. I shuddered to think how expensive a dress from one of these boutiques would be. I could only estimate one stitch would cost more than my entire wardrobe. “We can stop and take a look if you want. I don’t mind.”

“I’m not really much of a shopper,” I responded. “Don’t get me wrong. I love clothes and shoes just as much as the next girl, but I don’t shop for the sake of shopping…usually.” I winked.

A smile on his face, he shook his head. “You and Mercedes couldn’t be more different if you tried.”

I shrugged, unsure of whether or not I should take that as a compliment, but when I saw him glance at me and our eyes met briefly, I knew it was a good thing. There was a longing in his eyes, as if he were struggling to come to terms with his friendship with me and his commitment to Mercedes. I had seen that look before…in Will’s eyes.

“So, where are you taking me now?” I asked as he turned off Rodeo Drive and headed toward a more residential area.

“You’ll see.” He winked.

He navigated through a maze of streets and headed up into the hills, pointing out various estates hidden behind high walls covered with ivy…
The Beverly Hillbillies
mansion, the Spelling mansion, which had a guard shack bigger than most people’s homes, the Playboy Mansion. As he drove through the narrow, winding roads, it was surreal knowing just on the other side of the high walls lived some of the legends in the entertainment industry.

After driving by a few more points of interest, we headed away from Beverly Hills and down the Sunset Strip toward Hollywood. The hours passed quicker than I anticipated as we drove by the various studios… Disney, Paramount, Warner Brothers. He treated me to a world-famous Pink’s hot dog, and I was able to do some people-watching as we sat out back and observed all the other tourists. We stopped and had a martini at Musso & Frank’s, another Hollywood landmark according to Sebby. The bartenders were all clad in tuxedo jackets, and I was pretty certain some of them had been there since the place opened in 1919.