nodded approvingly. “That’s definitely for the best. If he knew, he might not be into it. I mean, actors sometimes think that what we do isn’t legit. They think that memorizing lines makes them better than us.” She shook her head, as if in disbelief. “And if he is into it, then you have to wonder: Does he like you for you? Or does he like you for the camera time that you represent?”
Madison was kind of blowing Kate’s mind—and bursting her bubble. As if meeting guys in L.A. wasn’t already difficult enough!
“Trust me, Kate, you want to let this develop naturally.”
Let what develop naturally? Kate wanted to know. She wasn’t even sure she’d ever see Luke again. He might not call her, and she was definitely not the type to make the first move. “Okay,” she said uncertainly.
“You’re still a nobody,” Madison said gently. “And I mean that in the nicest possible way. But when the premiere airs? Say good-bye to anonymity and everything else you thought you knew about your friends and your family and your life.”
“Wow,” Kate said. “You make that sound sort of . . . scary.”
“It’s not,” Madison assured her. “It’s amazing. But it’s crazy, too. Anyway, do you have this guy’s number?”
“Yes, he put it in my phone before he dropped me off.”
“Good,” Madison said. “Can I borrow your phone for a second?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Kate said. “What for . . . ?”
“Thanks.” Madison quickly snatched the proffered phone, typed into it for a moment, and then returned it to Kate. “You have a date,” she said. “Tonight.”
Kate felt her mouth drop open. She had to hand it to Madison. That girl did not mess around.
When the knock sounded on her door, Kate still wasn’t ready, even though she knew her time was up since she’d just buzzed Luke into the building. She’d spent two hours trying to figure out which one of her new outfits to wear, but she couldn’t remember which jeans Madison had paired with which top and shoes. Did the ankle boots go with the skinnies, or was she supposed to wear the ballet flats? She just wanted everything to be perfect. She should have had Madison make her a cheat sheet.
The knock came again, louder this time.
“Come in,” she yelled. “I’ll be out in one second—” Maybe she should just give up and wear that old Gap sweater, the one with the stripes.
“I’m a little early,” Luke called. She could hear him coming into the living room. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she called back. She loved the way he talked. Was there anything cuter than an Australian accent? A baby koala, maybe. “Really, I’m almost ready.”
She hurried over to the mirror and was surprised to see that she’d actually managed to pull one of her new outfits together. She quickly ran a comb through her hair (Madison told her their next outing would include a trip to the hair salon), and then she went to find her date. Or whatever he was. She wasn’t actually sure.
“Hey,” Luke said, smiling at her. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” she said. “So do you.” He had on faded jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket. His longish brown hair looked tousled and windblown.
“Do you have a coat?” he asked.
“What for? It’s, like, eighty degrees outside.”
His grin stretched wider. “You’ll see. Just grab something warm.”
She went to the closet and grabbed an old leather jacket. (Too bad today’s shopping extravaganza had not included any new outerwear.) “Okay,” she said, pulling it on and hoping it didn’t totally ruin her look. “Jacket donned.”
She followed him down the hallway and out to the front of the building. The sun was beginning to set, and a warm breeze was rustling through the leaves of the potted bamboo that bordered the parking lot.
“Where are you taking me?” Kate asked.
“You’ll see.” He stopped and turned back to her. “Your chariot awaits,” he said.
She looked at him in confusion. Where was his car? Was he talking about the cab across the way? Then she noticed that he was standing in front of a gleaming black BMW motorcycle. “That?” she said. “You came here on that?”
He laughed. “Sure did.” He reached into a compartment on the bike and pulled out two helmets. He handed the smaller one to her. “Here you go,” he said.
She shook her head. “No way.”
He made a pouting face, revealing dimples. “Surely you’re not afraid of a motorcycle.”
“No, but I’m afraid of my mother, and her number-one house rule was no motorcycles,” she said.
“Let me tell you something interesting about a motorcycle,” Luke said. “You asked me where we were going. And I’ll tell you that it doesn’t even matter where we’re going, because you’re going to have the time of your life getting there.”
Kate felt her heart pounding lightly in her chest. It could have been the bike or it could have been Luke, it was hard to say. She took a deep breath, reached out, and reluctantly took the helmet from him.
“Now climb up and hold on tight,” he directed, slinging his leg over the leather seat.
Kate scrambled on behind him and leaned forward. Her arms wrapped around his waist. It felt strange and thrilling to be this close to him. She tightened her grip as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the street.
The wind whipped her hair as Luke took winding curves upward into the hills, and the sky turned brilliant shades of pink and violet as they passed Spanish mission–style homes and classic California bungalows surrounded by pockets of rustling palm and madrone trees. At first she tried yelling questions at him over the noise of the engine and the wind, but each time he turned his chin toward her, shook his head, and yelled, “I can’t hear you!”
She was nervous for what felt like ten miles, but by the time he turned right, pulled through a cluster of trees, and slowed the bike to a stop, Kate was ready to invest in a motorcycle herself. Although, she reflected, her own motorcycle would unfortunately not come equipped with a gorgeous driver.
Luke put the kickstand down and turned toward her. “Ever been up here before?”
“I don’t even know where we are.”
“Look behind you,” he said.
Kate turned around, and there, glowing in the fading light, was that iconic symbol of fame: the Hollywood sign. “Oh!” she exclaimed.
“Here, come on.” Luke grabbed her hand and they made their way to the edge of the turnout. The hill dropped steeply away toward the valley, but makeshift stairs had been carved into the rocky dirt and led to the giant white letters.
“There’s a place to sit
