Love Unscripted (36 page)

I wished I could take her up on that, but Ryan had other obligations.

“
He’s catching the redeye to Newark tonight. He has an interview and a dinner meeting in Manhattan tomorrow.”

Marie gave me a questioning look.

“
He’s doing a little press for his last film,” I muttered.

I saw the light bulb go off in her head. “Oh,
Reparation
, right?”

I laughed lightly from the absurdity of her knowing so many details about my boyfriend’s life.

Ryan, of course, called me later that evening.

So, are you all packed for your trip?” I asked.

“
Almost. I’m packing right now. I wish I didn’t have to go to Manhattan, but at least it’s a short flight from here. You found my schedule, right?”

I smiled. Ryan cared for me to the point that he wanted me to know his entire schedule, and this was the second time he asked me if I had it.

“
Yes, I have it on the refrigerator. Hopefully you can slip through the airport unnoticed.”

“
That’s the plan!” he stated exuberantly.

I grabbed his schedule to review it again. Wednesday morning he had an appearance on an early morning show at seven. At one p.m. he had a photo shoot, and then last on his agenda was a dinner meeting with his manager and some producer later that evening.

He had an early flight back to Rhode Island Thursday morning.

“
This schedule says you have to be back on set on Thursday. Jeez, did they even factor in a bathroom break here anywhere?” I groaned. I wondered how he could stand living such a hectic life.

He laughed. “No. I have to hold it!”

“
According to this schedule, it looks like you can go to the bathroom on Saturday around eight p.m.”

“
I’ll have to reschedule that. I’m hoping to have other plans,” Ryan stated, like we were having a business meeting.

“
The interview on Wednesday is really early in the morning,” he groaned. “That’s going to be the killer.”

“
Do you know what questions they are going to ask, or do they just spring their questions on you?” I wondered. I pictured him having to answer on the fly and how nerve racking that must be to come up with coherent replies.

“
Sometimes they give you an idea of what they’re going to ask, but most of the time it’s just unscripted banter. Every one of these interviews is pretty much the same. Tell us about the movie, what’s it about, how does it feel to be playing that character. It’s all quite mundane.”

“
That is until they ask you those uncomfortable, personal questions,” I joked. “I noticed you rub your forehead when you don’t like the question.”

“
I do what?” he asked inquisitively.

“
You rub your forehead. When you get uncomfortable or upset you rub your forehead. You probably don’t even realize you’re doing it.” I couldn’t help but tease him.

“
So tell us, Ryan…” I started, using my best fake talk-show host voice. “All the women in the audience want to know what type of underwear you’re wearing right now. Or… everyone wants to know if you are dating someone. You squirm in your chair and then you rub your forehead. It’s your
tell
.”

“
My what?” he laughed.

“
Your tell, you know? Like when you’re playing poker? It’s that unconscious movement or action that lets everyone know you’re bluffing.”

“
Oh,
tell
. Yeah, I know what that means. Great, now I’m really going to be self-conscious on stage. Not only do I have to worry about the stupid questions and my mumbling answers, I’ll be worrying about touching my face and giving my secrets away.”

“
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse.” It was hard to plead and suppress a laugh at the same time.

“
I suppose I need a new gesture then, huh?”

“
Why don’t you rub your middle finger across your eyebrow if you don’t like his question? That ought to be good for ratings.”

He was laughing too hard to reply.

“
See, you like my ideas!” I laughed with him.

“
Yeah, I do! But I also recall you did the same gesture to me once!”

“
Well, pick another one then. But you’ll have to let me know what your new gesture is so I can watch for it.”

“
Let me think about that for a minute. There are so many subtle movements I could make that no one would notice. I like this! It’s so evil! Okay, let me think…

“
All right, I got one. I’ll scratch my chin if I really want to tell him to go to Hell. How does that sound?”

I laughed. “Sounds good! No one will even notice. So what does the rubbing your forehead and scratching your chin at the same time mean?”

“
Don’t be a smart ass!” he bantered back. “And if he asks me if I have a girlfriend, of course I have to deny it to keep my private life a secret, but how about I’ll touch my nose with my finger so you know I’m lying?”

I felt my heart skip a beat when he said the word
girlfriend.

“
So, you have a girlfriend? Do I know her?” I asked, fooling with him.

“
Don’t make me hang up on you!” he threatened.

“
No, I really want to know. Is she hot?” I joked.

“
No, she’s not hot.” He paused before changing his tone. “I’d say she’s more… irresistibly beautiful and incredibly sexy - than hot. And I’m insanely crazy about her so watch what you say.”

“
Wow,” I breathed out as I felt the blood rush from my head. “Good thing I don’t know her. I’m getting really jealous.”

“
Well, if you really feel the need to confront her, go look in the mirror. I’ll wait.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was completely astonished. My mouth was hanging open like a fish out of water.

“
Why, Ms. Mitchell! Are you speechless?” he teased.

“
Yes. Completely.”

“
Good. Now while you’re stunned into silence, I’m gonna get going. I want to try and sleep for two hours before I have to fly.”

“
Okay, have fun and be careful in New York.”

“
I’ll try. I have off Sunday and Monday, if I read the schedule right,” he yawned. “I’m freaking tired. It won’t take me long to fall asleep, even though I don’t have my favorite pillow to wrap my arm around. But this weekend, I’m really looking forward to fixing that! I’ll call you from New York when I get a break, okay? Good night, sweetheart. Pleasant dreams.”

The sunrays were just starting to beam through my window when my alarm clock chimed. 6:55 a.m. flashed in large red numbers as my eyes adjusted to the light. Part of me wanted to hit the snooze button and enjoy ten more minutes of sleep, but the other part wanted desperately to see him again.

I felt I needed to connect with his celebrity life. I wanted to know what his life was like when he wasn’t walking around barefoot in my apartment. If I was going to love him honestly, fully, and completely, I had to know all the facets of who he was and embrace them all equally.

I curled up on the couch and rapidly flipped through the channels until I found the right network for the morning show. I frowned when I had to endure several minutes of commercials.

As tired as I was I could only imagine that Ryan was just as tired, if not more. I had the luxury of just waking up and lounging in my pajamas. He, no doubt, had already been up for an hour or so and was probably stuck in some makeup chair having a team of stylists fuss over his wardrobe and hair while powdering his face to hide his sheen.

You poor bastard
, I thought to myself as a smile broke on my face.
He’s probably squirming in the chair right now
.

Of course they waited until the last ten minutes of the show to bring him out. The other forty minutes were coated in teasing pictures, video clips, and a few hundred “later on in the show” lead-ins.

Ryan smiled and waved to the audience as he made his way to the open chair on the stage. He was so freaking handsome in a dark tweed jacket over a dark gray button down shirt that hung out over his pants. He had stubble growing on his face and he grimaced when the female audience screamed for him. A few women yelled “I love you” as he was taking his seat, and just like on cue, he rubbed his forehead.

The host rolled right into asking those standard questions about his latest movie and I laughed when he asked Ryan to tell everyone what the movie is about. He shook his head as he smiled and I could, as clear as a bell, hear the comments that were being made in his subconscious. He was right - every one of these talk shows was identical.

It was after the first commercial break when the host got to the million-dollar question – was he dating anyone. I flew off the couch and stood right in front of the TV, dying to know how he would handle answering.

Ryan’s eyes looked down for a second and he chuckled a bit to himself. As he looked up at the camera he shook his head and stated with a dead-on poker face, “No, I’m not seeing anyone. I really don’t have time to even talk to anyone.”

And then he did it. With a cocky smirk on his lips, he raised his right hand and rubbed his fingers down his nose. His fingers then completed the motion by rubbing and scratching his chin.

Just then I broke out into my own private hysterics.

It was still early in the morning when Ryan called. He had just finished the interview and had some spare time before having to head to another studio to have his picture taken repeatedly.

“
What are you doing now?” I asked while lounging in bed.

“
Being photographed and filmed while walking down the sidewalk,” he groaned. “It is exciting news, you know, that I can walk in a straight line. Damn…” he breathed out.

“
What?” I froze.

“
Ahh, I just dropped the papers I had in my hand. Great, they’re taking pictures of me picking crap up off the sidewalk. Yeah, hi, thanks, just one day.”

I could hear the crowd around him asking questions and he was giving them quick answers. People were asking for his autograph over and over again and to take their picture with him.

“
You’ve been here since two a.m.? You’re crazy!” I heard him say to a female fan. “Tar – hang on a second.”

“
Ryan, Ryan can I get a picture with you too?” “Ryan over here.” It sounded like he was getting mobbed.

I heard what sounded like his security team instructing the crowd to back up and give Mr. Christensen some space. “No, you already got one from him,” I heard a man’s voice say.

“
Why do you want me to sign this? It will ruin it!” Ryan asked some fan. I heard some girl’s voice begging him.

“
Okay, you already got two autographs,” the unknown male voice instructed again.

Eventually I heard a car door slam and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

“
Marla, would you please hand me that soda. Thanks. All right, now I can talk again. Sorry. This is unbelievable,” he muttered. “Are you still there?”

“
Yeah, I’m still here.”

“
I can’t believe that girl wanted me to sign her violin! I should have said no.”

I heard a woman’s voice in the background talking to Ryan.

“
Hey, it’s not my problem if that’s not her violin. And if it’s damaged now, that’s not my fault. Can I refuse to sign stuff if it’s not a picture or a book or something?”

I couldn’t make out what the woman said to Ryan.

“
Can you imagine what David would say to me if he got a bill for a violin? Your client ruined my Stradivarius!”

I scrambled for something to say. “Hey, did you ever get a birthday gift for your mom?” I asked, remembering the circumstances that led to the day we first met.

“
No. Shit… thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot.”

“
Well while you’re in New York, I’m sure you can find something nice there. Either that or you can find something here.”

“
It doesn’t matter. What should I get her?”

“
Anything a man would hate to have to pick out on his own?” I joked with him. “I don’t know… jewelry, perfume, a new purse? What do you think she’d appreciate?”