The Bodyguard (Red's Tavern 7)

“I’m feeling about a million times better,” I said. “And… thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to do any of that last night, but it helped. A lot.”

He nodded once. “I was thinking, if you’re up to it, we could go out to Mushroom Rock State Park today,” he offered. “That place where your grandfather took that cool looking photo. Might be a nice way to get out of the city and relax.”

“Actually, I was about to tell you to take today off,” I said. “Because I just found out I need to be in LA tomorrow.”

His eyes widened. “A plane trip? Tomorrow?”

“I was invited to a party. It’s not just a party, though, because every party in Los Angeles is actually a big networking event. And it’s the birthday party of someone who might want to cast me in a film.”

“Absolutely,” Roman said, snapping into a dutiful mood immediately after his surprise had worn off. “I’ll get all my stuff packed and ready today. This sounds like a great opportunity for you.”

“Well, I’m not holding my breath,” I said. “I mean, I hope something good comes out of it. But Garett McKennaugh is picky. Who knows if I’ll even end up getting the role.”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up. “Garett McKennaugh? The guy who made The Arctic Games?”

I paused, staring at him for a second. “You’re kidding me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know Garett’s movies but you didn’t know any of mine?”

Roman shrugged one shoulder. “I was hanging out with my brother and his boyfriend once and they put it on. I thought it was absolutely incredible. It might be one of the best movies I’ve ever seen, actually. I have no idea how they filmed that one sequence, with the avalanche in a maze, where the guy is trapped at the bottom.”

I puffed out a laugh, shaking my head. “Wow. You don’t know anything about huge Hollywood films, but you know a weird little indie movie of Garett’s.”

I had to admit that Roman was right, though. The film really was a triumph, and I’d watched the scene he was talking about so many times. Garett had written, directed, and starred in that movie, and while he was filming it, he’d occasionally sent me photos from the set, including one day where they were filming nude scenes in the snow.

At the time, I thought it had been just for me. Later, I’d found out he was sending the same exclusive shots to two other guys, one of whom had leaked the photos to a tabloid website.

As usual, Garett was brilliant, but he didn’t seem to think about anyone but himself.

“All right,” I heard Donna’s voice come from the back door of the house. “I know it’s nothing gourmet like you’re probably used to, Theo, but I stopped and got sausage, egg and cheese sandwiches on the way home. Hot in here whenever you boys are ready.”

“The best breakfast sandwich in the world,” I said.

“It sure is,” Roman said.

I stopped to snap a photo of the sandwich before I dove in. I hadn’t posted anything to social media in a while, and I knew this would be safe. It was in an unmarked wrapper, and looked like any other egg-and-cheese sandwich in the world.

It was sad that I had to think about these things, but I did.

“Are you posting a picture of your breakfast to Instagram?” Roman asked.

“I am, indeed.”

“Do people really care what celebrities eat for breakfast?” he asked, shaking his head. “I swear I just don’t understand social media.”

“For some fucked up reason, I know my fans do care what I have for breakfast. I’ve been told by a publicist that it’s a good idea to post photos of relatable things. Things anyone can experience. And I think just about everyone loves these.”

“Makes sense to me,” Donna said. “It’s just cute little tidbits online for fans to feel connected with a person they admire.”

“Or it’s TMI,” Roman said.

“Shush, Turtle,” Donna said, waving him off. “You’re more old-school than I am.”

Roman cracked a smile, finishing a bite of his sandwich. “You’re not wrong.”

The three of us stayed gathered around the small kitchen table as we devoured the delicious breakfast sandwiches.

“I don’t care how many fancy meals I’ve had,” I said. “Sometimes nothing on Earth is better than this.”

“The little convenience store where they make them has probably been around since your grandfather was here,” Donna said. “Ages and ages, they’ve been there.”

Roman pulled out his cell phone and tapped away for a moment as Donna started doing a few dishes across from us in the kitchen, idly talking about a few different local takeout places I could try. My own phone buzzed a few seconds later, and I looked down to see a new text.

>>Hot Bar Guy: You’ve got a crumb on your cheek.