us in?” Marie shrugged, a glimmer of hope infused her voice.

I wrinkled my nose at her and countered her suggestion with one of my own. “Why don’t you go be nice to him then? I have no desire to go flock

around some movie set like a pathetic groupie.”

“Speaking of groupies, did you hear that the police had to escort his limo to his hotel last night?” she asked, tapping one of her long fingernails

on Ryan Christensen’s picture in today’s newspaper. “Article says there was a mob of women there; they had his hotel surrounded again.”

I rolled my eyes and continued wiping the bar with a towel. I really could not be bothered with the trivial, but it was hard to ignore. Everyone

wanted to know the most miniscule details about him and his fellow actors and their glamorous lives. The photographers and reporters hunted them

down daily.

Every day the news reports had something to say about the actors, the movie, the set locations, or the disruptions caused by the hundreds of

crazed fans that followed them here. It was all too absurd for my taste, but Ryan Christensen was a drug that everyone seemed hopelessly addicted

to.

“Girls have been trying to sleep out on the sidewalk and everything… cops had to tell them to leave,” Marie babbled to a few female customers

sitting at the bar as she shuffled the newspaper into a neat pile.

I shook my head while trying to imagine what the payoff would be to even consider sleeping on cold concrete in 50-degree weather. It was still

nice out during the day, but it was the last day of September and the evenings were chilly.

“That’s ridiculous,” I muttered.

“They’ll have to sleep down on the beach now,” Sandy, our local beautician, chimed in. She took another sip of her martini while everyone

waited in anticipation for her to explain.

“One of the girls who work at the Lexington Hotel was in the salon this afternoon,” Sandy babbled, like the information she had was no big deal.

“She said it was all hush-hush, but the hotel staff was informed that all of the actors were being relocated there today. Apparently the Lexington

has better security and private garage entrances. I don’t know - whatever. Anyway, it sounds like they’re going to be right down the street from us

now.”

“No shit!” Marie screeched excitedly. “You mean to tell me that Ryan and the entire cast are going to be only three teeny blocks down that

street?” She pointed out the window in the direction of Mulberry Street.

Her exuberance about this entire topic was bordering on annoying.

“I still can’t believe they are filming the second Seaside movie right here in our town. This one is going to be even better than the first!” Marie

gushed.

“Okay, that’s like the hundredth time you’ve said that,” I teased.

“Well maybe if you bothered to watch the first movie you’d know what all of us are so excited about,” she snapped back.

“I read in one of the magazines at the salon that he is sleeping with the girl who starred in his last movie… what’s her name, Suzette, Suzanne

something?” Sandy commented.

“No Sandy, that’s not true,” Marie shot back, shaking her head in disagreement. “He was dating Lauren Delaney from that TV show Modern

Times, but they broke up.”

Marie’s tone was almost sympathetic. She tossed her long chocolate-brown hair off her shoulders, looking like she felt sorry for this man she

didn’t know personally.

“I heard that someone stole some of his clothes from the hotel last week and tried to sell them on eBay,” Traci added.

“Oh, that’s just wrong,” I blurted out, trying to imagine what type of sick-o would buy some guy’s used shorts. The thought made me shudder.

“Why on Earth would someone do that? Well, whoever did it, I hope they got arrested.”

My mind could not rationalize the actions. “It sure is a twisted world we live in.”

“If I had the chance, I’d twist on him several times!” Marie growled. I laughed when she wiggled her hips.

“Why don’t you twist your way over to the big table with this pitcher for me? Please? Our fire department looks like they still have fires to put out.”

I felt bad for turning Phil down, so I was trying to make it up to him with a free pitcher of beer. Secretly though I didn’t want to go anywhere near

him.“

Why don’t you take it over and at least talk to him? He’s a really nice guy, Taryn.”

“Marie, I’m not interested, okay?”

“Well, since you seem to have sworn off men…” she muttered, “here, I’ve got something for you. It’s not porn, but it’s close enough.” She

laughed while rummaging in her huge purse.

She held out another gossip magazine with a big, glossy picture of Ryan Christensen on the cover. The caption under his picture read:

The truth about Ryan:

His Ex-girlfriend tells ALL!

I pursed my lips and turned away, slightly disgusted that anyone’s ex-girlfriend would have the audacity to “tell all.” He was probably better off

without her.

“Hey, let me see that!” Traci yelled, reaching for the magazine.

“What’s your problem, Taryn?” Marie grumbled and stamped her foot. “Don’t you think he’s hot? I mean, look at him!”

“It doesn’t matter,” I dismissed. “He is just another guy who is all full of himself. Besides, I have better things to think about - like why George and

Ted look mad because I’m not bringing their drinks fast enough.”

“Yeah, like those two old farts are in a hurry. The only place they’re going to is their next alcohol-induced coma,” she declared.

I gave her my most dramatic, horrified look. “Who are you all going to gossip about once the celebrities leave town? You’ll need to find someone

else to talk about.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“We’ll just talk about you, Tar. We’ll sit around and reminisce about how much fun you used to be while using the cobwebs growing between

your legs to knit hats for the poor!” Marie nudged me.

“You’re such a bitch!” I snickered at her.

“Yep!” She grinned, pretending like she was going to spray me with the soda wand. “But you’ll never fire me because I’m your best friend and

you love me!”

Damn her for being right.

The next day I woke to the sun beaming brightly through my window. I yawned while my fingers carelessly fumbled to shut off the alarm clock. I

contemplated going back to sleep but it was already nine o’clock and there were things I wanted to get done today.

With a groan, I tossed the covers off and landed my bare feet on the cold wooden floor of my bedroom. “Brr,” I muttered out loud. The frigid oak

planks sent a shiver through my body.

Outside my window, truck brakes screeched very loudly, causing me to flinch and duck reflexively. Curiosity made me tiptoe across the floor to

find the source of the noise.

Ah, Maggie is getting a delivery, I noticed, peering out the window at the back alleyway behind my building.

I lingered in the hot shower next, primping for a few extra minutes, while my mind was mentally distracted creating my agenda. The longer I

thought about it the longer my to-do list got.

I picked my favorite jeans out of the clean laundry basket and slipped a white T-shirt over my head, tussling my fingers through my long blond

hair to separate the waves.

After adding the final touches of makeup and mascara, I skipped down my stairs and through the door that led directly into the pub.

“Good afternoon, my lovely bar,” I said out loud to no one. “Time to wake up and greet a new day.”

I opened each of the window blinds, watching the microscopic dust motes float in the sunlight. I thought about cleaning the windows again - they

were looking a bit dirty. I’d have to remember to ask my friend Pete if I could borrow his extension ladder.