The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she calls out, already grabbing her car keys, leaving me staring at her retreating back with her order receipt in my hand.

“Okay,” I whisper to myself as I rip the hat from my head quickly followed by my elastic band holding my hair from my face – yanking harder than normal. Twisting my hair between my fingers, I tie off a braid and let it rest over my shoulder, blocking the scars that run up my neck. I wish there were something that I could do about my exposed arms, but other than grabbing my uncle’s windbreaker and drowning in it, I’m left with no options.

Reaching into my back pocket, I grab my order notebook and head to the table of men and women that look to be my age – forcing a smile the entire time. The skin surrounding my mouth is tight on the right side as the scar tugs against the muscles.

“Sorry about that. My waitress had an emergency. What can I get you?” I ask in one breath – never looking up from the notepad in my hand.

“Hey, Larsen.” Cole’s voice slides over me like butter and I can feel my cheeks redden at his acknowledgment. “These are my friends from college. They came up

for a visit. Figured I’d show them the sites.”

Studying the notepad in my hand, I train my gaze to the paper. “Oh, sure. That sounds fun.”

Cole gestures around the table, introducing the two males and one female who sits happily perched beside him. I notice how closely she leans her body against his arm. There is a familiarity there. One of intimacy that I wish I had. Once he’s done they order glasses of water and a few burgers.

Smiling to the group, who don’t let their gaze linger too long on my scars, though I can sense their pity by the slight downturn of their brows, I turn my back to them to make my way behind the counter and get their drinks.

“Hey, Larsen. You’re studying nursing, right?”

“Yep,” I reply, not lifting my head from the soda fountain, but peering at them from beneath my lashes.

A smoky feminine voice wafts through the space and I nearly drop the glass in my hand in surprise. I realize that it’s coming from the woman seated next to Cole, staking her claim on him as she rests her hand on his forearm.

“That is such a coincidence. I work in human resources for a hospital. We’re always hiring nurses.”

Despite the sick feeling I’m getting watching her touch the man I have a crush on, my ears perk up at her admission.

“Really? Where are you located?” I ask as I bring their drinks to the table.

“I live in Southern California right now. Not too far from Los Angeles and where I grew up.”

“Oh, well, I don’t know about living in California, but I’d love to hear about what you all look for in nurses. I’m doing an online program, so I’ve still got a few semesters to finish.”

Removing her hand from Cole’s arm, she turns and reaches into her bag. I look at Cole with confused eyes until he smiles and I turn my gaze away.

“Here is my business card. When you’re done with your program give me a call. I’d be happy to help you find a facility that has openings.”

Taking the card from her hand, I stare at the white cardstock with blue embossed words. The raised letters feel expensive against the tips of my fingers. “Really? Why would you help me?”

“Well, I like you. Not only are you a friend of Cole’s, but you didn’t ask the number one question I get when I mention I live near L.A.”

Confusion must be evident on my face as she chuckles slightly.

“What question?”

“If I know of any celebrities. Dated any celebrities. Slept with any celebrities,” the group all chime in.

“Oh, well, um. . . thanks.”

Slipping the card into my back pocket, I tell them that I’ll be right up with their orders while I fix the other patrons’ orders as well.

While standing at the grill, I can see Cole and his group interacting and I wish that I had the confidence and familiarity with people like they do. But it’s just not in me. Not anymore. Not since the day my mother ran away with it all.

I toss the ground beef for the burgers onto the griddle and oil splashes up onto my exposed arm. The arm with its own road map to nowhere. The arm that feels little to no pain.

If only the scars could take away the pain on the inside.

CHAPTER THREE – DEVYN