When Scott and I were seven years old, we got yelled at by my mom for standing in my backyard and taking turns staring at the sun. Even though we’d been ushered inside and lectured by my parents on the risks of retinal damage and blindness, I could still remember how grumpy Scott had been with me for beating him in our made up competition. The truth was, though, that I’d been cheating the entire time; I’d looked at the sun for about half a second before turning my attention to the clouds that hovered in the sky.

My fondness of cloud watching was a habit that’d been born out of a punishment. Whenever I threw tantrums as a child, my dad would scoop me up and set me on a blanket outside, always telling me to look for shapes in the clouds until I’d calmed down. Fifteen years later, I found the sight of clouds oddly comforting and as Sophie and I laid on a picnic blanket and gazed up at the sky, I felt wholly relaxed.

I could hear Sophie breathing and although she’d originally fidgeted this way and that, she now seemed completely immersed in the blue and white painting above our heads. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye and watched while she licked her bottom lip, grateful that the awkwardness in the car hadn’t affected our moods for the rest of the day. Despite my best efforts to be subtle, Sophie must’ve felt my stare because she smiled and rolled onto her side to study me.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, letting go of my hand to brush her hair from her face. She’d forgotten a hat to wear and had declined my offer to buy her a baseball cap emblazoned with the words Santa Barbara in neon stitching. Expecting someone to realize who she was, Sophie had understandably been worried about sitting in the park when we’d first arrived. Luckily, the giant sunglasses perched on her nose helped to hide most of her face and even I had trouble recognizing her when they were on. I shook my head.

“Nothing, really,” I replied, turning to face her as well. “You?”

“College.”

“What about it?”

Sophie reached past the edge of the blanket and pulled up a handful of grass, filling her palm with little green spears and then letting them fall back onto the ground. “What’s it like?”

I shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “It’s different for everyone.”

“What’s it like for you?” she asked, lifting her sunglasses slightly so that I could see her eyes. She was looking at me with curiosity and I thought about the answer for a long moment before replying.

“Fun, mostly. I mean, my classes are hard because of my major and finals suck for everyone but other than that, I have no complaints.” I propped myself up with my elbow and watched while Sophie continued to mow the grass around her. “I really miss it actually. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” she said quickly, looking away. “Sometimes I think it would’ve been nice to go.”

“You still can,” I said, surprised at how embarrassed Sophie seemed by the topic. “It’s a good experience.”

Sophie sighed and wiped her hands on the blanket. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe someday.”

“Sure,” I said, nodding. “No rush. You've got your hands pretty full these days, anyway.”

“It’s funny, but I never even considered it before I met you,” Sophie admitted. She’d turned her attention to one of the blanket’s tassels and sat tugging at the loose strings. “Now I can’t help but think that maybe I should have some normal experiences like that before I get too old.”

“Being normal definitely isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be,” I said. “Most people would give a kidney to have your life for half an hour.”

Sophie laughed. “Yeah, but that’s because they haven’t lived it.”  

I didn’t know what to say to that so I bit down on my thumbnail, though Sophie promptly swatted my hand away from my mouth and gave my shoulder a gentle shake. “Stop, you’ve been so good about not biting your nails this weekend.”

“You’re right,” I said, looking down at my hands. For the first time in a long time, my nails were longer than chewed down nubs and I curled my fingers into fists so that they were hidden from view. Sophie had admitted early on in our relationship that my nail biting habit grossed her out and I’d half-heartedly promised to stop. Despite the odds, I’d actually gotten pretty good at controlling myself, though I was still far from being cured. “Sorry.”

Sophie made a face while she rolled onto her stomach. “Vile.”

“I can’t help it,” I protested.

“Yes, you can.”

“I always bite my nails when I’m nervous,” I answered honestly as I sat up and moved to rub her back. She purred while my fingers smoothed out the knots beneath her shoulder blades.

“Do I make you nervous?” Sophie asked and I could hear the amusement in her tone. If only she knew.

I traced the word ‘Yes’ along her spine and said, “Of course.”

Sophie laughed with disbelief and said, “But I’m your girlfriend.”

“I know,” I replied, kissing her neck. “That’s the main reason why.”

From there, the conversation shifted to stories about Sophie’s time in New Zealand with a lot of laughter and kisses mixed in. We tossed a Frisbee back and forth for a while, though after I caught one of Sophie’s throws with my stomach, we decided that neither of us was good enough to keep the game going. Despite what I’d said about feeling nervous, talking to Sophie felt even more natural than ever before, almost as if she knew exactly what I wanted to say before I knew how to say it. Things felt like they couldn’t get better, though I wished that the butterflies in my stomach would hurry up and give it a rest.

I was so wrapped up in listening to Sophie speak that I didn’t realize it had gotten dark until she took off her sunglasses hours later. “Oh,” she said, blinking. “We should probably get going.”

Slightly startled to see that the lamps lining the sidewalks had already come on, I nodded and slid my phone from my back pocket to check the time. “I can’t believe it’s already six-thirty. Where’s the day gone?”

Sophie glanced around, seemingly relieved to see that the park was nearly empty. She stood up and draped over to begin folding the picnic blanket into neat squares while I picked up the Frisbee and cooler I’d bought at a gas station on the drive up from L.A. “Ready?” Sophie asked, tucking the blanket underneath her arm.

I began following her towards the lot where I’d parked my car before clearing my throat. “Did you have fun?” I asked while I pretended to search for my keys in my front pocket.

Sophie chuckle before brushing her lips against my cheek. “Yeah, today was perfect,” she said, beaming up at me. Her face shone even in the dim light and I caught a glimpse of a joyous twinkle dancing in her eyes.

“I’m glad,” I said, looking down at the ground to watch my feet while I walked. “To be honest, I didn’t really know what to do with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I guess I was worried that you’d be disappointed in going to a park for our first date.”

“Well, it’s not our first date, remember?” Sophie teased, elbowing me softly in the side. “But anyway, I’m just happy spending time with you.”

“Are you sure you wouldn't have rather done something fancier?” I asked, thinking of the one thing that had been nagging at the back of my mind all day.

“Of course,” Sophie said. She tilted her head to look at me and a glimmer of confusion crossed over her face.

I frowned, struggling to come up with a response. “But don’t you want… I don’t know, aren’t you going to miss being with someone who can afford to do whatever you want, whenever you want?”

Sophie furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head slowly. “Not at all. I’d much rather be with someone who actually likes me.”

I lifted the nail of my right index finger to my mouth but Sophie grabbed my hand before I could bite down on it. “Hey,” she said, lacing her fingers through mine. “Besides, if I ever feel the overpowering need to go to the Ritz for dinner, obviously I’ll be the one to pick up the bill. Okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Sophie didn’t hesitate to answer: “No.”

She smiled at me but the conversation that we’d had earlier in the day still weighed on my thoughts and as we reached my car, I blurted, “I don’t want you to wake up one morning and wonder what you’re doing with me.”

“Why would I?”

“I’m thinking about when we actually make our relationship public. Aren’t you worried about what people will think of us?”

“No, are you?” Sophie opened the trunk of my SUV and stuffed the blanket inside. I handed her the items that I’d been carrying and waited to answer until she’d slammed the trunk shut again.

“Kind of,” I admitted. “I don’t want people to say you’re wasting your time.”

Sophie sighed. “I know you’re worried about what I said earlier but I seriously didn’t mean it the way that you’re taking it.” She fiddled with the ring on her thumb. “I just want you to be aware of the fact that as soon as we announce that we’re dating, you’re going to be fair game for the tabloids, too, that's all. Everything that you do will be out there for everyone to see. It’s... a really hard thing to adjust to.”

I nodded. “Alright.”

Sophie wrapped her arms around me and continued, “But you know I like you and I like how easy it is to be with you. To be honest, I’m kind of scared that you’re going to run away once you realize how crazy things can get for me.”

“I won’t,” I promised and Sophie gave me a tight squeeze.

“Considering how long I waited for you to ask me out, you’d better not.”

---------------------------------------------------

By the time I made it into the office on Monday morning, I was ready for the weekend. Twenty minutes late and counting, Melanie clucked her tongue at me with mock disapproval as I rushed past her desk with my shirt untucked and shoes untied. Without stopping to wait for her response, I called over my shoulder, “Hey, how was your weekend?”

Dashing into my office, I took off my jacket and draped it over my chair while I waited for my computer to turn on, desperate to clock in before Michael noticed I wasn’t logged on to the company server. When the electronic dinosaur that sometimes doubled as my desktop finally brought up my homescreen, I frantically clicked on the timekeeping application, surprised to see that I was already punched in. Had I forgotten to sign out before leaving Wednesday night?

“I clocked you in ten minutes ago,” Melanie’s voice came from the doorway and I sighed with relief when I looked up at her.

“Thank you,” I said and she nodded.

“Sure, just don’t tell payroll. So,” she said, peering at me beneath raised eyebrows. There was a teasing glint in her eye. “My weekend was fine, thanks for asking, but how was yours?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, sinking into my chair and eyeing a thick stack of papers that Michael had presumably left on my desk.

“Well,” Melanie continued, folding her arms across her chest, “according to Celebrity Scoop, a certain friend of yours is back in town.”

“Oh.” I fought a smile. “Yeah, she is.”

“Did you see her?”

“Maybe, yeah.”

Melanie waited for a moment and then rolled her eyes when she realized I wasn’t going to elaborate. “I’m never covering for you again, you know that? You can clock yourself in from now on.”

“Alright, fine,” I said, conceding. “She stayed over at my place Saturday night.”

When she heard that, Melanie’s eyebrows shot up so fast that it was like watching two rockets launching. “Oh, did she?”

“Yeah.”

“And?” There was something deeply suggestive in her tone that made heat creep up the back of my neck.

I shook my head. “And that’s more than you need to know.”

Melanie gave me an approving look. “Classy guy.”

“Obviously.” I reached for the stack of papers and began flipping through it, wondering if I could get away with throwing out the assignments with lapsed due dates stamped across the top of the page. “I can tell you that Sophie tried to make pancakes for breakfast.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Melanie interrupted with a grin. “She made you breakfast?”

“Tried to.”

“Stop, this is so cute.”

“You think?”

“Definitely. Did you hang out yesterday, too?”

“Yeah, we drove up to Elings Park in Santa Barbara and had a picnic.”

Melanie clutched her heart. “You didn’t.”

“We did.”

“How did you come up with such an adorable idea?” she asked and I shrugged, not bothering to tell her that it had actually been Sophie’s plan. “I’m seriously impressed.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, smoothing down my cowlicks and wishing I’d run a comb through it at some point during my mad rush to get in, “I had a lot of time to think about it.”

“I guess that’s true. Was it awkward to see her at all?”

I thought about that for a moment. Had it been awkward? “Not really,” I said slowly, still contemplating my answer. “I'd missed her so it was nice to spend time with her again.”

Squealing like a schoolgirl, Melanie hopped up and down on the balls of her feet. “This is literally just like a movie,” she said, beaming with excitement. “I’m so happy for you, Parker.”

I smiled up at her, knowing that she really meant it. “Thanks.”

“Although, just so you know, like, if you guys get married, I’m definitely expecting an invitation.” Melanie paused. “And a seat at dinner next to an eligible A-lister would be nice, too.”

I shook my head in disbelief at what I was hearing. “We’re not getting married,” I replied and the redhead pretended to pout.

“You don’t know that.”

“Maybe not,” I said. “But I think I have more say in it than you.”

“God, you’re no fun. Besides, I bet Sophie wouldn’t be very happy if she heard you say that.”

“If Sophie heard him say what?”

Melanie and I both glanced up as Michael strolled in through the open doorway. He smiled pleasantly as he looked between us, his gaze settling on Melanie and her cream colored dress. Obviously nervous under his stare, Melanie fiddled with the beaded coral necklace that she wore while Michael continued to appraise her. “You look really nice today,” he finally said, shifting his attention to me before she could respond. “Did you just get in?”

“Uh, no,” I lied. “I’ve been here for awhile.”

“Oh.” Michael frowned. “I didn’t notice your stuff here when I came looking for you earlier.”

Melanie and I exchanged a look and she began edging her way to the door. “Um, well, I left my jacket in my car,” I said, though I didn’t even sound convincing to myself. “So I, uh, went back and got it.”

I trailed off lamely, fairly certain that Michael didn’t believe me. Instead of pushing it, though, he shrugged. “Fine. Listen, would you mind coming to my office in a couple hours? I need to get on a call in about ten minutes but I’m going to lunch with Richard and his agent at noon and I thought you might want to come.”

“Why are you meeting with him?” I asked, curious if it had anything to do with the phone call Sophie and the actor had the day before.

Michael glanced at Melanie. “It might be easier if I explain later.”

“No, it’s okay,” Melanie said quickly, realizing that was her chance to escape. “I should get back to the front desk anyway.”

Once she was gone, Michael leaned against a filing cabinet and stood rubbing his eyes. “You’re going to hate me.”

“Huh?”

“I said, you’re going to hate me.”

“Why would I?” I asked, although, realistically, there were probably hundreds of reasons why I should.

“I made a mistake.”

I blinked, certain I’d misheard him. “Excuse me?”

“I said I screwed up, alright?”

I stared at Michael, unsure of what shocked me more: the fact he’d messed up, or the fact he was owning up to whatever it was that he'd done. I had a sinking feeling that whatever he was about to say was going to be bad. “How?” I asked. “Why?”

Michael groaned and kicked at the ground with the toe of his shoe, a miserable expression on his face. “I may have overestimated Richard’s willingness to, uh, back out of his arrangement with Sophie.”

“What do you mean?”

Michael sighed. “I got a call from Richard’s agent over the weekend. Apparently, while Richard and Sophie were doing their award show circuit tour back in January, they met a designer who thinks they’d be great as the faces for his next fashion campaign.”

He looked at me expectantly, as if there were some hidden meaning I was supposed to understand. “I still don’t get it.”

“What exactly do you and Sophie talk about, huh?” Michael asked, shaking his head. “Look, when Sophie and Richard agreed to this whole publicity stunt, there was an open end date to it, alright? That way, if things went well, you know, they could keep at it until someone finally caught on.”

“Okay.”

“But after you and Sophie got together, I approached Richard’s agent again and asked him if we could change the deal to have the two of them amicably call it quits right after filming wrapped. I figured that’d make everything easier on everyone. Are you following me?”

I nodded. Although it went completely against my nature to willingly confide in Michael, I’d actually told him that Sophie and I had started dating before I went to Scott with the news. I'd decided that keeping him in the loop was a necessary evil.

“Right.” Michael clapped his hands together, preparing to deliver the punchline. “Richard really wants the fashion campaign, which the designer won’t give him unless he gets Sophie, too. Sophie wants out, which is understandable, seeing as you’re in the picture now. The thing is, though, that Richard’s agent hinted that if that happens before Rick gets the contract, then he'll make things difficult--for all of us."

“Difficult how?”

“Well, um, I’m not really sure.” Michael rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “But I got the impression that he’s ready to play hardball.”

I didn’t respond while I struggled to keep my emotions in check, resisting the urge to grab Michael by the shoulders and shake him. Finally finding both my voice and self-restraint, I said, “I told you this was a stupid idea.”

“You may have said something along those lines, yes.” Michael looked down at the ground, avoiding my gaze. “I’m sorry. I honestly thought I’d be able to keep better control of the situation.”

I scratched my head, torn between being furious with Michael and sensing that his apology was sincere. “Alright,” I said. Michael looked up at me. “Why do you want me to come to lunch, though? What good’s it going to do?”

“I think it’d be good for Richard to see that you’re not going away,” Michael replied, adjusting the clasp on his watch.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant by that but as I did, his cell phone began to ring. Michael pulled the phone from his back pocket. “I need to take this,” he said, looking at the screen. “Come to my office at eleven-fifteen, alright?”

He left then, turning on the charm as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line.

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A/N: Another chapter down! Camp NaNoWriMo is really helping to motivate me, although I'm trying to balance writing with editing. It's a lot harder to hit my daily quotas than I'd been expecting. Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed the update - I have the next few chapters written already so hopefully I can get them polished and uploaded soon. In the meantime, let me know what you think; your feedback is always appreciated!

Dedicated to @Mswtang as thanks for the support. :)