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of them most of the time.

"Stacy, hi," I said awkwardly, desperately trying to sound cool and composed. When I realized this wasn't just a chance encounter and Jack was the one that made it happen, my guard fell. It all happened so fast. "You're actually my favorite actor," I admitted nervously. "I didn't know this was going to happen at all."

"Thanks, Effie," she said sincerely. My heart fluttered a little.

The thing was, although things were going incredibly with Jack, there was just one, glaring problem with everything—I'd get used to being on earth with him, and then he'd do some outlandish, dazzling thing like this and make me forget everything. I didn't even know how to respond. Stacy was just a normal person, and I knew I needed to treat her like that—but I wasn't kidding at all when I said she was my favorite actor.

I had spent years watching her on screen, loving her characters and her artistic, driven approach to filmmaking. She had gone beyond acting and had even directing credits to her name before turning thirty. In many ways, she was very similar to Jack. They had broken up, and maybe that was the reason why. Could two people that intense co-exist without problems, without constant antagonism?

Aside from our first date, I had never really mentioned her to Jack again. His memory was almost inhumanly good. Now I was really wishing that I had asked him for more information up front.

"What do you do, Effie? How'd you meet Jack?"

I cleared my throat and took a sip of that very rich drink. "I work at MCI Music Group in New York. Just accounting stuff. Nothing special."

"I came in for a meeting," Jack said, "and I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She almost made me sign with them right then and there."

"Shut up, Jack," Stacy said playfully. "Unless the deal was perfect, you'd never just sign with anyone."

"Yeah, you're right." He gave her a wry smile, an admission of defeat.

Oh, yeah, the deal. I had forgotten about it, but this was not the time or place to start remembering. The alcohol came to my rescue almost instantaneously, smoothing my troubles away and bringing me back to the very pressing matter at hand.

"Well, whatever. I don't really know these things," I said honestly.

"No, no. That's cool, Effie. I was actually an accounting major before I dropped out to go to acting school." She smiled and took a sip of what looked like a dry martini, apparently digging into her memories.

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I don't think I was cut out for it." She was being so humble and honest, not something I was used to. Stacy was always great and down-to-earth in her interviews, but this was another level of humility. I mean, give her a script and the resources and she's literally unstoppable.

It was as if I wanted her to be so far above me since that's what my phony assumption was. There was something so surreal about having a basic conversation with a person who, without these very unique circumstances, wouldn't have ever been accessible to you. Like a book on the very top shelf—when there's no ladder to get up there.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom, okay? You two ladies keep this conversation rolling." Jack's constant smile had changed the tone of his voice. I didn't know what to expect while he was gone, but I would just have to roll with it and do my best.

"How do you like L.A.?" she asked politely.

"It's really cool so far," I said. "I've never been here before."

"It's a long trip from the East Coast. It's definitely worth it if you have a guide. How do you like Jack?"

The question actually really hit me off guard. I caught myself before I blurted out something stupid. "He's... he's great." A drink had never tasted sweeter—or comforting.

"He sure is," she said. "He's so talented, too. I definitely miss him sometimes, but our break-up was for the best. Near the end, we only saw each other like once a month or less."

"Seriously?" I asked. I hadn't realized they had become so distant. The tabloids only said so much.

"He's busy and so am I." Stacy's look became distant, her eyes casually surveying the crowd. When she was satisfied, she continued. "He goes on tour, and I'm acting in films and location scouting for my next project. When you're doing that and your schedules don't line up, you spend a lot of time alone. It's even harder when you love what you do so much that you can't give it up, even for someone you really care about."

The thought was scary. Could I deal with him being gone all the time like that? I wouldn't ever want to hamper his creative output, not when he had so much to offer the world. It was so weird to be having a conversation about my boyfriend with my favorite actor. How often did that sort of thing ever happen?

Stop, Effie.

Once again, now was not a good time to do this sort of analysis, analysis that would force me to arrive at these ostensible conclusions, given my inability to really know anything. Jack and I could communicate; I knew that already. The facts in our relationship had yet to be established. We could make it work. I knew we could...

"Stace, did Effie tell you some guy was gushing to me about Feedback at Gangadin?" Jack was back—which meant our private discussion had concluded. He slid into the booth beside me and put his arm around my back.

She let out an almost maniacal laugh. "Really? I know how much you love it when people talk about that one."

All I could do was grin and feel slightly out of place. Why had I never looked into his albums? Well, when were together, I just didn't have the time. And when I was alone or on a break, I was doing my best to not think about

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