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A Little More Conversation to be Had

It was a sidewalk crack of dawn as she opened her eyes and realized that the phone had been ringing off the hook for the last five minutes in her dream was reality crashing in. Grumbling she fumbled for it in the dark and held the plastic to her ear.
Wake up call.
She growled at the chirpy morning person on the other end of the line and stumbled out of bed to take yet another cold shower. She hated this Miami heat. The air conditioning didn’t help at all in alleviating the scorching sun and the awful humidity.
She did not like these days. The days when she didn’t have shows were the worst because she had nothing to look forward to at the end of the night, and would most likely be having dinner with a bunch of producers that were all aiming for her to do something for them. She wanted to take breather for a moment. She had her big break, she had a few gigs lined up, she wanted those squared away before she added anything else to her to-do list.
“Wouldn’t hurt to have a manager,” she thought suddenly, but she was too far in now to find one that wouldn’t shit list her and demand sixty percent if not more of what he or she got for her. Representation she could do without for a while, it wouldn’t hurt her to learn the business and try to make it on her own. She wasn’t too worried about staying in the limelight. If she made a few bucks she could retire and take care of her family, it’s all she really aspired to.
But as long as she had it, she wasn’t going to bite the hand that fed her. Besides, these were the chances that not many people got. She’d do fine with what she had.

The meeting was much better than she thought it would be and considered herself lucky on many parts for it. Things were on schedule and she was aiming at another run as host for a season of a reality show for MTV. She liked the idea for the show and it seemed halfway decent. The down side to it was that she’d be in Miami for the two months the show taped, but things could have been worse. But nothing was signed yet, they were still in the planning stages so far.
Feeling in a much better mood by far after the meeting, she skipped the breakfast buffet at the hotel and went in search of something to keep her busy for the rest of the day. Her last paperback she’d been reading had taken a end to entertaining her with a classic romance ending, she didn’t know why she had bothered to borrow it from her mother in the first place, knowing what kind of books she liked. So it was time to find that gem in the bookstore she was looking for.
She tended to go towards either fantasy books involving gnomes and elves and fairies, or sometimes really good fiction by the likes of Anne Rice, Terry McMillan or thrillers by John Grisham. Not in the mood for a courtroom drama or the life story of a vampire, she wandered into the used book section browsing and looking for something to catch her eye.
She preferred to buy used books, they felt more personal and were easier to read because the spine was usually cracked in several places. Whenever she had a new book she felt like she was damaging it. She dug through a pile of romance novels hoping that their might be something promising at the bottom, but was merely met with more plastic covers of women with long blond hair, powder white skin, and boobs the size of beach balls being swept up into the arms of dark skinned men.
Another pile of books boasted only adventure stories blasting titles in all caps and lurid colors that they were selling a wild time. Low rated fantasy sagas and battered copies of classics lay rumpled together and Babysitter books littered the rest of the pile. After a while of searching she came up with a battered copy of “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”. She’d never seen the movies and never read the books, so she decided this was as good a time as any to take a look at them.
Happy with her find she proceeded to the bookmark rack to pick out a new bookmark. She never started a new book without a new bookmark. Each book she owned had it’s own special bookmark purchased at the time the book was. She didn’t like to reuse bookmarks, it was an odd habit of hers, but no one questioned it. There was something about expecting the bookmark to hold a place in a book that it didn’t understand, or something like that. She wanted the bookmark to have a home and one book could do that she thought. Once when she hadn’t been able to buy a bookmark she found a tag off a pair of shoes and used that, and never replaced it, and she would never dream of throwing it away. That marker now belonged to that book and vice versa.
After a few minutes of perusing the shelf she found a silver colored metal marker with Harry Potter stamped in black, a star charm hanging off the end of it. She picked it up and proceeded to the counter with her purchase, placing only the two items on the counter.
“We do have new copies of this Miss, in paperback and hardcover if you like,” the cashier added before ringing up the merchandise.
“Nope, this is okay, I like used books better,” she smiled at the young woman clerk who grinned nervously in response. She wasn’t exactly sure what the girl was staring at until she asked for an autograph. She laughed and realized now what it was.
“I’m sorry, I’m still not used to it, people asking me, sure, I’d be happy to.” She signed the autograph, paid for the book and it’s marker in cash and left with the items in hand as she left the store.
When she got back to the hotel she thought about just going back to her room and turning out all the lights and settling in with a beer as usual, leaving only as much light as she needed in order to read. But then she decided she’d rather sit in the bar and if the occasion to talk to some fans came up, she’d meet it head on. She couldn’t hide forever, so she went back to the bar and ordered a beer, despite the fact that it was only eleven in the morning. She dove into the newly purchased book, nibbled on pretzels and sipped her Coors until the hotel restaurant began to fill up with customers across the room.
Several people came and went, but no one seemed to recognize her, which in a way she was secretly grateful for. She was totally involved with her book and again took no notice as a man sat down one stool away from her.
“You seem to spend an awful lot of time in here,” the rasping voice came out and she totally missed the question because she was reading so deeply. She still didn’t notice when he picked up his drink and moved down a stool closer to her and said it again.
“Oh, me? I’m sorry, didn’t realize you were talking to me,” she apologized sincerely and put her new marker firmly in place before closing her book. She sat up and turned to find a black haired, Italian skin-toned guy with various tattoos all down his arms and even across his fingers as her gripped his glass. She was intrigued.
“Do you like this place?” he asked as he turned to her, removing his sunglasses.
“Somewhat, offers a place to get a cold beer, so yeah,” she replied, her voice twice as ugly as his. His voice was, seductive, very nice to be hold and listen too. She could notice a singing quality to it.
He was quiet for a moment as he lit up a cigarette and turned to look directly at her.
“You don’t mind do you?” he asked, motioning to the cigarette in his hand.
“Not particularly, no, but it’s a bad habit you know.” She felt stupid the moment she said it. He smiled as if he’d heard a thousand times before. He took another puff before dousing it in the ashtray and pushing it away.
“Hard habit to break,” he smiled as he took a sip from his drink. She watched his motions as much as he watched hers.
“Where have I…” she started, trying to remember where it was she had seen him before.
“I was here last night, it was my friend who was sleep walking,” he explained as he hunkered down on his elbows to look at her. She sat up straight in response to his slouch and nodded.
“Oh, right, that’s why…no, there’s something else,” she knew the voice from somewhere and then it finally hit her.
“I took my sisters to see a concert of yours a few years back,” she said, finally remembering why the voice resonated with her so much. He smiled as if it were a game of twenty questions they had been playing and she’d just figured out the answer to a riddle he thought she wouldn’t guess.
“That’s me,” he laughed.
“I’m not gonna flip out on you or something,” she replied stoutly.
“Or something?” his eyebrow was raised.
“I think I’ll treat you the way I would want to be treated.”
“And how is it that you want to be treated?” his answer and question caught her off guard.
“Like a person who has feelings and appreciates not being bombarded with questions,” she was sure that wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say, but it would have to do for now.
“You want to be asked for autographs?” He asked.
“That doesn’t bother me. You?”
“Oh it doesn’t bother me either.” She wasn’t sure what he was getting at. So far this was the strangest conversation that she’d ever had with anyone.
“So what is that you’re famous for?” he asked out of the blue. She wasn’t insulted that he didn’t know, by far, it was almost refreshing that she has to explain.
“I’m a comedian,” she replied quickly.
“Oh, performing at the Golden Trimount next door?”
“That’s the one.”
“I should go see a show.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I might want to.” Might? What the hell was up with this guy? Might go see a show? She wasn’t inviting him or promoting herself or anything of the type, no, she wasn’t that patronizing and worried about her image as of yet.
“I should get going, I’ll see you around.” And like that he was gone. She wasn’t exactly sure how or why he was around and she didn’t know if she wanted to see him again. It wasn’t like she was opposed to the guy, no, hardly not. She liked his music, had listened to it since she’d first heard it out on the radio. She wasn’t a crazy fan who chased autographs, nothing like that, and meeting him had not been the pinnacle of her life’s existence. There was just something that didn’t set right with her about the meeting with this man. And he’d see her around? Was he expecting something? She couldn’t be sure.
Confused as hell she asked for some ice and a fresh beer before downing the rest of the first bottle in one gulp. She was back into the wizarding halls of Hogwarts without another thought, five minutes after the man had left.
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