Smooth Operator Page 10

  Before I knew it, I was on a roller coaster on a wooden pier. As we crept up the lift hill, I stared straight up so that all I saw was blue sky until the train righted itself. When we reached the top of the hill, with that American flag blowing in the light sea breeze, Tyler grabbed my hand and pulled it up so both of our hands were straight in the air above our heads for the whole ride. We slowed down at one curve on the ocean side, making me feel as though we were about to be vaulted into the water, and Tyler squeezed my hand and kept it up until we got back to the station. It was thrilling, but in a way that I never wanted to experience again.

  I got out of the coaster train on shaky legs, accepting Tyler's assistance down to the main level. "That was...something."

  "Want to get on the Ferris Wheel now?" Tyler asked. "We can make out when our vehicle stops at the top."

  "No," I laughed. "Something closer to the ground, please."

  "I know just the thing," Tyler said, pulling me by the hand out of Pacific Park. He led us down the wooden pier towards the concrete sidewalk, then made a right down the stairs, which led down to a tiny aquarium. Tyler didn't go there, though, instead continuing past it onto the concrete walkway. "Hot Dog on a Stick," he said triumphantly.

  "What on a what?" I asked.

  "Hot Dog on a Stick," Tyler said simply. "This is the original location, and it's the best corn dog you'll ever have in your life."

  I doubted that, but I went along with Tyler because he was so adamant about going. There were various kinds of corn dogs available to us, but I opted for a classic corn dog. Tyler ordered a veggie corn dog, reasoning that it had to be marginally healthier, and we watched in fascination as they hand-dipped the hot dogs in batter and dropped them into the fryer. The glistening dogs were pulled from the fryer and presented to us. I took my dog and pumped a bit of ketchup onto it, to Tyler's horror.

  "Heathen," he said with a screwed up face, eating his corn dog plain.

  "What do you mean?" I asked, savoring my corn dog. Damn. It was the best corn dog I'd ever had.

  "Ketchup on a corn dog."

  We started walking back to the pier, heading for the very end of the pier for the view of the ocean. "Ketchup is sweet. Cornmeal is sweet. They fit together," I insisted.

  "That's just un-American. If you must put something on your corn dog, mustard is the only acceptable condiment," Tyler said matter-of-factly. He looked down at me and frowned, then licked the side of my mouth. "You had some extra there."

  I finished my dog, stupidly grinning as I wiped my mouth. We passed a peddler who was making tiny clay sculptures of people's faces on the side of the pier. I stopped to watch, pulling Tyler behind me. I watched for a few minutes in fascination, wishing we could get our busts done. I looked at Tyler, who was looking down at me contemplatively.

  "Do you want to have one done of us?" Tyler asked softly.

  I looked up at him. "I mean, it'd be cool, but we don't have to. This is a pretty public place."

  "Let's do it," he said.

  "Are you sure? Aren't you trying to stay incognito?"

  Tyler shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen, anyway? Someone takes a picture of me? I don't care if they see me with you. This looks fun."

  Before I could protest further, he handed cash over to the artist, who instructed us to sit on stools facing away from the sun. The artist worked quickly, glancing from my face to the clay, then up again to my face. I found it hard to keep my face still, despite the artist's chiding, because we were drawing quite the crowd. Even before Tyler had taken off his sunglasses and hat, someone had recognized him and loudly announced his presence. Cameras clicked, and people murmured, making me self-conscious and hyper-aware of my every movement.

  "That's Tyler Sutton, I'm sure of it," a girl whispered to her friend behind me. "I wonder who the flavor of the week is."

  The words hit me like a punch to the gut, reminding me of exactly how people would react if Tyler and I were ever actually together. Rumors, lies, gossip. It was all vicious, and now it was all I could think about. As the artist moved onto Tyler's face, the muttering never stopped. I sat there in silent humiliation. I knew what everyone was thinking- why was Tyler Sutton with this nobody and how long before she's barely a blip on the radar?

  We gathered our sculptures when the artist was finished and waded through the crowd, declining to stop for photos. That didn't stop people from taking them, though, and we walked quickly, ignoring the cries of the crowd. When we were finally free of the mad crush of people, Tyler pulled me back down to the parking lot. "I hate to cut our day short, but I doubt we'd get any peace if we stayed on the pier."

  I nodded in agreement. "Are you worried one of those pictures are going to end up on the Internet and start gossip?"

  Tyler laughed as he pulled open the passenger side door for me. He jogged to his side and got in, turning to me. "All of those pictures are going on the Internet. And as for gossip, what are they going to say about me that hasn't been said before? There will be speculation, but what do I care if they speculate about me with a beautiful woman?" He kissed my knuckles before pulling out of the parking lot and taking us back to the hotel, casual about everything that had just happened.

  Tyler may be nonchalant about gossip rags speculating, but I had much thinner skin than him. I don't know if I would be able to take it if my face was suddenly splashed all over magazine covers. The small-town gossip had been bad enough when Dave had left me, and I couldn't imagine what it would be like on a national scale.

  I knew what I needed to do. I needed to slow this train down before it derailed and broke my heart in a way that I suspected would be more crushing than anything I'd felt before- if only because I'd seen it coming and done nothing to stop it.

  Chapter Eleven

  "You've been avoiding me."

  I turned, facing Tyler after the wrap up of another long work week. I sighed. Tyler was right. I hadn't been as forthcoming as I could be after my minor crisis at the pier. I guiltily looked into Tyler's face. He looked charming and delicious even with tired circles under his eyes that he'd wiped the makeup off of by now.

  "No, I haven't." I tried to sidestep Tyler, but he put an arm up on the wall to stop me.

  "Don't lie to me, Olivia. You practically ghosted me after Saturday. You haven't even responded to the pictures of adorable dogs that I keep sending." Tyler leaned in, looking around. "You don't have to play hard to get, you know. I already want you."

  I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat and forced myself to look into Tyler's eyes. Big mistake. Those big green eyes with their lush brown lashes, punctuated by one upturned eyebrow, turned my resolve into putty. I sighed. "Okay, I've been avoiding you. But just a little."

  Tyler stepped back, a mix of triumph and confusion on his beautiful face. "Why?"

  "Well, we were getting a little intense. That crowd at the pier was pretty harsh, and I don't know if you noticed, but they weren't saying rude things about you, they were saying them about me. I mean, considering your reputation..." I trailed off, not wanting to hurt Tyler's feelings unintentionally.

  "Considering my reputation?" Tyler folded his arms across his chest. "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"

  "You know what your reputation is, Tyler," I sighed.

  "No, please. Enlighten me about what you think of me," he insisted. Why was he making this a big deal? He knew exactly what he was like. He was just prevaricating.

  "You jump around from woman to woman, okay? And I don't want to be your flavor of the week that you get tired of and decide that you'd prefer pistachio next week," I said in a rush.

  Tyler's eyebrows relaxed, and he began shaking with mirth. "You're a goofball. What flavor are you, exactly? I'd love to find out. Whatever it is, somehow I doubt I'd ditch it in favor of pistachio. Rum raisin or mint chocolate chip, maybe. But not pistachio." He leaned in, kissing my cheek.

  I pushed away from him gently. "You're incapable of being serious, and that's part o
f the problem. Stop avoiding the subject."

  Tyler's face sobered. "Maybe I'm avoiding the subject because I don't want to dignify your comments with a serious response. So you think I'm a slut. Have I ever given you any indication that I'm interested in anyone but you?"

  "No, but-"

  "Exactly. You're biased because of what you read in the gossip rags, and you won't give me a chance to show you that I'm serious about you." Tyler looked at me pointedly.

  I let what Tyler said sink in. I guess it was a little right. "You know that the rumors have a little truth to them at least."

  Tyler nodded his head slowly. "Okay. Hey, is it okay if I judge you on your previous sexual partners? Give me a list so that we're even."

  My jaw dropped indignantly. "No. Even if we were together, which we aren't, that would be super inappropriate to slut-shame me." Even as it came out of my mouth, I knew what it sounded like. Tyler raised his eyebrows. "Oh."

  "Exactly. So just give me a shot to prove I can be serious. What are you doing this weekend?"

  "This weekend's no good for me. My family and my best friend flew in today, and I'm showing them around town this weekend," I replied, glad for the easy excuse.

  "Perfect," Tyler said brightly. "You've got a local Angeleno tour guide right here."

  "No, that's not really-"

  "What could be more serious than meeting your family?" Tyler kissed me exuberantly. "I'll text you in the morning, bright and early." He walked to his car before I could protest further.

  This was going to be interesting.

  ∞∞∞

  Tyler texted me at half-past seven in the morning. I groaned and rolled over to read the message.

  TS: Let's get our tour on! Meet me in the lobby at eight. Wear walking shoes.

  OH: Too early to function on a Saturday. Text me in five hours.

  TS: Get out of bed, or I'm joining you.

  OH: You're really bad at threats.

  TS: Get out of bed, or I'll never join you.

  OH: I'll be there at eight. You're supplying the coffee.

  TS: I knew I was irresistible. ;-)

  I swung upward groggily, putting my legs on the side of my bed and trying to shake the sleep out of my head. I needed to wake up, fast, so my family wasn't waiting around for me. My family and Kat had probably already been up for a couple of hours as they were already early risers and on East Coast time to boot.

  I sent out a mass text to my visitors reminding them about proper footwear, and I hopped in the shower, hoping it would help to wake me up. By the time I was done showering, I was at least half human, but I needed that coffee.

  I met Tyler in the lobby at eight sharp, wearing a tee shirt, shorts, and an old pair of running shoes. He was leaning against the wall, holding two extra-large to-go cups, and when he saw me, he strode forward and pressed one into my hand.

  "As promised," he said, his fingers lingering on mine as he handed it off. He gave me a chaste peck on the cheek. "You are in for a fabulous day."

  "Where are we going?" I sipped my coffee. "Mmm. Nectar of the gods."

  "Feeling awake yet?" Tyler grinned. "First, I thought I'd take everyone out to breakfast at La Boucherie, that new French place with all the meats that just opened on Figueroa."

  I wrinkled my nose. "You wouldn't be able to get my dad through the front door of someplace with a French name. Choose something less L.A."

  Tyler frowned, thinking. "How about Citrus? It's just a regular old breakfast spot."

  "Much better."

  I texted everyone the address, and Tyler led the way to his car.

  When we got to the restaurant, my guests were waiting outside, looking fascinated by the surrounding area. Kat was the first to see me, and she let out a shriek before running forward to embrace me.

  "I've missed you!" she said, the words muffled by my neck. She stiffened suddenly, then whispered in my ear. "Holy shit. Is that-"

  I nodded quickly, wanting her not to make this a big deal. "Yeah," I whispered back. "Be cool."

  I pulled back from Kat, only to be picked up in a bear hug from my brother Nick, and finally, my parents. Tyler stood back a bit, hands in pockets during this reunion, smiling politely. "Guys, I'd like you to meet my friend Tyler. He's going to show us around Los Angeles today."

  My dad put out his hand, and Tyler grasped it in a firm handshake that was sure to impress my dad, repeating the process with Nick. When he got to my mom, she returned his hug with a blush. "I loved you on Passions of Our Lives. They should never have killed you off after your evil twin sister abducted you," she gushed, starstruck.

  "I agree. And thank you." Tyler dazzled her with a smile, and I rolled my eyes. Suck up.

  "My turn!" Kat moved in on Tyler, hugging him a little too hard.

  "I'm starving," Dad announced. "Let's eat."

  We filed into the packed restaurant and somehow managed not to have to wait for a table of six. I suspected Tyler had paid off a hostess, but he played innocent when I inquired about it later.

  Even though this restaurant wasn't quite a French bistro, we were still in Los Angeles. Dad predictably frowned at some of the fancier items on the menu and ordered a black coffee with eggs and bacon. The rest of us ordered various cappuccinos and iced coffees and omelets, chatting lightly. The conversation turned to Tyler and me quickly.

  "So, Liv, how on Earth did you become friends with Jesse Jones? Oops, I mean Tyler," Mom giggled, still starstruck by one of her soap idols.

  "Tyler is playing Rafe in the movie," I said. "Alongside Vanessa Rowley as Emmeline. She was actually on Passions of Our Lives as well, Mom. As Jesse's twin sister Jessica."

  "Oh my goodness, you must tell me what she's like in real life," Mom said, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her head on her hand.

  "Well, she can be demanding," Tyler said carefully. "But she's a good person deep down."

  "Sounds like a nightmare," Nick snorted. He had little patience for divas.

  "And they're both doing a great job," I said. Tyler squeezed my knee under the table.

  "And you guys are...friends?" Nick asked, looking suspiciously between the two of us.

  "Yes," I said.

  At the same time, Tyler said, "We're dating." I glared at him as he looked back at me innocently.

  "Wait, WHAT?" Kat's egg fell off her fork midair. "You guys are involved, and you didn't tell me?"

  "No," I said again, while Tyler was saying, "She's a bad friend."

  "This relationship is seeming a little one-sided, bud," Nick said protectively.

  "It's not like that, Nick," I said, still glaring at Tyler. "We're just... taking it slow."

  Kat's eyes lit up like I'd just announced that everyone at this table was receiving a million dollars and a house full of puppies at the end of the meal. I knew that she was bursting to say something, and I shook my head slightly at her. She pouted, scooping her egg back up silently.

  "So, you're an actor, son?" Dad stated. "Do I know you from anything?"

  "Unless you like romantic comedies or soap operas, I doubt it," Tyler replied. "Or maybe supermarket tabloids." He knocked his knee against mine under the table. Smart ass.

  Dad grunted. He liked none of those things.

  "I've seen the tabloids," Nick intervened. "And I've seen you on a quite a few different covers."

  "Then you know how exploitative they are," Tyler said easily, leaning back and patting his belly. "Whew. I'm full. You guys ready to go to Griffith Park?"

  Everyone was just finishing up, so Tyler flagged down the waiter and handed him his credit card. "You don't have to do that," I whispered.

  "I hijacked your day, the least I can do is buy you some breakfast," Tyler said dismissively. He signed the check and stood up. Everyone else followed suit, and we headed to our respective cars for the drive to Griffith Park. They had rented a minivan for the weekend, thankfully. Otherwise, I have no idea how we would've gotten around. We would've left for the park sooner,
but Dad saw Tyler opening the car door for me and almost had a heart attack.

  "Good Lord, son, why didn't you tell me you had one of these babies?" Dad let out a long, low whistle as he circled the car, practically falling over himself to be near the fancy car.

  "Is this your Corvette?" Mom asked politely, and I hugged her affectionately. Tyler, Nick, and Dad looked at the two of us with slackened jaws, all in disbelief that we didn't respect the Sacred Car.

  The men marveled over the Ferrari for ten minutes, discussing horsepower and engines and oil or something, while we ladies waited patiently to get a move on. Dad finally peeled himself away from the car after Tyler promised he'd let Dad take a spin in it later.

  We led the way to Griffith Park, parking on the long, upwards sloping hill on the way into the park and hoofing it the rest of the way to the top where the Observatory is. My family got out of their car after us and looked around at their surroundings in awe.

  "Look at this view!" Kat exclaimed, staring out through the trees to the Los Angeles skyline. "This is amazing!"

  Mom and Dad nodded in agreement, both staring raptly at the view, but Nick remained unimpressed. He was a nature photographer, and probably considered what he saw every day to be far superior to a smog-laden metropolis. Nick had been to Los Angeles a few times for his career and had never given off the impression that he liked it here, if not actively disliking it. I knew he'd only come this time to see me, and I was grateful for it.

  Tyler was at the head of the pack as we huffed our way to the top of the mountain, spouting off trivia and history about Los Angeles as we climbed higher and higher. When the ground leveled out, we all stopped to stare at the panoramic view of Los Angeles that the park afforded, with the Observatory front and center.

  "Let's go look at some planets!" I said brightly, pointing at the Observatory. As we approached, we noticed that it was cordoned off with ropes and signs. "Oh," I said in disappointment when we got close enough to read the signs.

  CLOSED FOR PRIVATE EVENT

  "That's okay, sweetheart," Mom chirped, putting an arm around my slumped shoulders. "You said you'd take us to see Los Angeles, and you've done just that. We don't need to go inside that building anyway, look where we are!" She spread her arms wide, and I loved her endlessly at that moment.