The love script, p.10
The Love Script, page 10
She raised an eyebrow. “This I gotta see.”
Lamont guided her back to his Mercedes, where she promptly snorted at the sight. “Regular car, huh?”
Heat filled his cheeks. “Is it excessive?”
She shook her head. “But it’s not an average vehicle either.”
He opened the door for her, closing it once she settled comfortably into the passenger seat. He rounded the front of the car. After programming her parents’ address into his GPS, Lamont intermingled with LA traffic. His mind went back to the texts from Chris and Tuck. Would Nevaeh’s parents like him?
“Why are you so quiet?” she asked.
Lamont gripped the steering wheel, taking a quick glance at her. “I’m nervous.”
“So am I,” she admitted.
“Same reasons as yesterday, or did something new creep into your mind?” He’d had some weird dreams that made him feel a tad bit desperate to make a good impression.
“This morning it dawned on me that I’m not sure they’ll believe we’re really dating.”
“How come?”
Nevaeh sighed. “It’s been years since I’ve invited a boyfriend home, and you’re you.”
He bit back a chuckle at her exasperated tone. “How many years are we talking, exactly?” His hands tightened, waiting for her answer.
“Um, five.”
“But didn’t you say you dated a couple of years ago?”
“He wasn’t bring-home-worthy.”
“Great.” He forced a chuckle. “No pressure.”
She reached over and squeezed his forearm. “Look, it’ll be uncomfortable for a while, so we just have to persevere. Keep the story of how we met simple and go from there.”
“Is there anything I should know before I meet them?” Favorites? Why haven’t we discussed favorites?
“Right. A bio on the folks.” She slid her hands against the dress slacks she wore. “Okay, so my mom is an English professor at Loyola Marymount University. She’s been teaching for as long as I can remember. First at a high school, then she moved to the college level, where she seems to thrive.”
“Impressive.”
“She knows it.”
Uh-oh. Something about Nevaeh’s relationship with her mom cloaked her like a shroud. She wasn’t as vibrant as usual. In fact, there was an air of dread around her. Lamont said a quick prayer that everything would go well.
Nevaeh continued. “My dad is a history professor at the same place. He’s always worked there, and I think he’s the reason my mom got a job there in the first place.”
“Does working so closely together cause any tension?”
“No. Different departments. According to them, they rarely see one another unless it’s planned lunch dates.”
“How do they feel about you being a hair stylist?”
She scoffed. “They hate it. They don’t think it’s a real job that can give me security. They think I’m wasting my education.”
He shook his head. His mom had always been encouraging in his endeavors. He couldn’t imagine the hurt Nevaeh felt.
“I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is.”
Unfortunately. “Do you have other talents I need to know about? Secretly a good singer? Or maybe you have the next American novel sitting in a drawer in your room?” He winked, hoping to coax her into a good mood.
She rewarded his efforts with a melodic laugh. There was the woman he was starting to know.
“I can draw caricatures, but I never worked hard to develop the skill because I didn’t have a passion for it. Making a person feel their very best, or in Hollywood’s case, look their best for film, that’s something that makes me practically vibrate with energy.”
He believed her. The waves of excitement were present and strumming from her. “I feel the same about acting.”
“You started at eighteen, right?”
“Sort of. I got discovered at sixteen via YouTube. Someone put up a theatrical performance from our high school in which I played the lead.”
“Wait, wait, wait. You did theater in high school?”
Lamont nodded, making a turn at the GPS’s prompting. “I joined drama club in middle school at my mom’s encouragement. She said I was always putting on an act at home so I might as well get good use of it.”
Nevaeh laughed. “So what happened with the YouTube video?”
“My agent saw it. Bryan.”
“Bryan’s been your agent since you were sixteen?” Her voice rose.
He nodded. “Said he knew a star when he saw one. I got my start on Broadway with secondary roles. Then one day, a film producer came to one of the shows, saw me, and thought I’d be perfect for the role in Troubled.”
“My neighbor said she cried when she watched that.”
“Did you?” He held his breath.
“Maybe,” she drew out. She looked at him. “I’ve seen every single one of your movies.”
Why did pleasure fill his chest at the thought? Were his feelings moving from the casual to genuinely interested? His mind flashed to Diva, all the times she feigned interest. He cleared his throat.
“Oh, there it is.” Nevaeh pointed to the left. “That’s their house.”
The white-stucco home stood out in the sea of multicolored homes. It was also the only one with a red roof that reminded him of the hotel chain with the same name. “Does the gate open automatically?” The white iron gate looked older than the Hollywood sign.
“For my parents. Let me call and tell them we’re here.” A few seconds later, she asked them to open the gate, then hung up. “Just drive straight back. The garage is in the very back, but their cars usually sit in front of it.”
“No problem.” Once the rickety gate stopped squeaking—sounded like nails on a chalkboard—Lamont drove ahead as ordered. He put the car in park, then looked at Nevaeh. “Anything else I should know?”
“My mom will throw snooty barbs at me, but she loves me. My dad is a big teddy bear but turns into a grizzly when boys are around.”
“‘Scariest environment imaginable.’ Thanks.”
“Ha! One of my favorite quotes from Armageddon.” She sighed, then motioned to her door. “Better open it. Your boyfriend grading starts now.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat and rounded the vehicle to open her door. His palms were clammy, and his heart had moved into the vicinity of his throat.
“We can use the back entrance.” Nevaeh pointed to the white screen door.
“You sure? Should I do the gentlemanly thing and come to the front?”
“Nah, you’re not picking me up for a date. You drove us here, remember?”
“I do, but my deodorant doesn’t.”
Nevaeh nudged his side. “Hush. You’ll be fine. We have no choice but to make the best of it.”
“You’re fabulous at pep talks, anyone ever tell you that?”
“No.”
“I wonder why,” he said dryly.
Before she could comment, the door flew open, and an older man filled the doorway. He stared at Lamont through clear-framed eyeglasses. Despite hair that was more salt than pepper, his brown eyes held no rheumy tinge. They were sharp and piercing. Guilt swamped Lamont. As much as he wanted to tell the world he and Nevaeh were the real deal, that just wasn’t true today. How could he step foot in her father’s house and imply such a thing?
Calm down. Just tell him you’re dating, and let the conversation go from there.
“Daddy!” Nevaeh stepped up on the step and threw her arms around the man.
Mr. Richards never broke the hold he had on Lamont’s gaze. Lamont could feel his Adam’s apple moving up his throat and back down. He didn’t dare take another breath until the man broke their visual Wild West standoff.
“I missed you,” Nevaeh said.
Finally, the gruff man turned his full attention toward his daughter, swallowing her up in his arms.
“Daddy, I’d like you to meet Lamont Booker, my boyfriend.” She bit her lip.
Lamont offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Mr. Richards squeezed Lamont’s hand briefly, then let him go. Somehow, that amount of grace didn’t bring relief like Lamont imagined it would because the man was back to sizing him up.
“Should we go inside?” Nevaeh asked nervously.
“Yes. Your mother said dinner was ready five minutes ago. Let’s hope she’s not in a snit over it.”
Lamont wanted to ask about that, but he kept his mouth shut, taking the moment to get a breather. The stare-down with Nevaeh’s father had been intense. He could see what she meant by grizzly, though maybe tiger would be more apt. Lamont thought Mr. Richards would’ve gone for the jugular if Nevaeh hadn’t reminded them of the pressing meal.
As her father led them through the living room to an arched opening to the dining room, Lamont said a quick prayer that her parents would like him. Not because he thought the whole dating bit would be easier, but because he had an uneasy feeling in his middle whenever Nevaeh’s mother was introduced into conversation.
Just then an older woman walked out of the kitchen. Her hair piled up in a beehive-style do looked regal, and the added touch of pearls with a cream-colored sweater on top of a black blouse with matching slacks completed the image. But the frost emitting from her was enough to make Lamont thankful his blazer provided an extra layer against the dipping temps.
“Mom, this is Lamont. Lamont, my mom, Maletha Richards.”
Mrs. Richards dipped her head. “Let’s be seated.” Hopefully that clipped tone didn’t set the mood for dinner.
Lamont contrasted Nevaeh’s parents, how her mother was dressed in “proper attire,” but her dad seemed more casual in a sweater and khakis. It actually made Lamont feel better about the jeans he’d donned this morning. Lamont and Nevaeh sat across from her parents. Mr. Richards said grace, then began passing food around.
Lord, please don’t let me drop one of these dishes. The china looked dated, as did some of the other items in the home. Were they antiques or simply treasured items? Nothing about the home spoke of wealth, but maybe they weren’t flashy and saved their funds for specialty items to pass on.
“So, Nevaeh, this is certainly a surprise.” Her mother’s high tone tensed Lamont’s back.
Lamont took a bite of his meatloaf, trying to feign nonchalance as he waited for Nevaeh to speak.
“I told you I was bringing a guest.”
“Yes, you did. You just failed to tell us he was your boyfriend and that you’ve been on the news lately.”
Nevaeh froze next to him. He snuck his hand under the table, squeezing her fingers in solidarity. At least, he hoped she’d see it that way.
“Honestly, I didn’t think you guys watched that kind of news.”
“Oh, you were on CNN,” Mr. Richards interjected. “The story came on right after the fires going on in the Midwest.”
“I’m sorry,” she stated quietly. “I thought it better to introduce him in person. So you could meet the real person versus whatever the news is saying.”
“They’re saying quite a lot.” Her mom dabbed her lips. “Are you two sticking to your faith?” Mrs. Richards’s searching stare landed on Lamont’s face, as if the question was for him.
Was that an inquiry he should take at surface level or dive for deeper meaning? Keep it simple. “Yes, ma’am. We are.” He cleared his throat. “In fact, Nevaeh attended church with me this morning. She’s been great trying to coordinate our schedules so we can have time to spend together. Mine isn’t the norm.”
Her mother shook her head, tutting the whole time. “As if that child has a schedule to coordinate. It’s not like her jobs offer her any kind of structure. A hair appointment here, salon work there, not to mention trying to always get on a movie set.” She waved her hand in the air. “It’s all a bit chaotic if you ask me.”
“Which no one did, dear. But we thank you for sharing regardless.” Mr. Richards’s tone was kind and patient, which surprised Lamont. Mr. Richards took a sip of his water. “Have you met his family, Nevaeh?”
“I’ve known his mother for a year, Daddy.”
“And my father passed away,” Lamont offered.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Richards said. She eyed him. “How is it our daughter has known your mother for a year, but this is the first time we’re hearing about your relationship?” She rested her chin on her hand, all pretense of eating gone.
Lamont set his fork down. “I met Nevaeh on set. I heard her talking about the importance of hair care. At the time, my mom was going through chemo, and even though she was losing her hair faster than she’d anticipated, I still thought maybe Nevaeh could pamper her in some way. So I approached her to see if my mom could be a client.”
Mrs. Richards’s eyes widened. “Oh my. Is she okay now?”
“Yes, thank the Lord. She’s in remission.” Lamont would never stop praising God for that mercy. Now if he could only believe in her healing and stop watching her for signs of a relapse. “Nevaeh’s been doing her hair ever since.”
“Ms. Rosie is amazing. She’s shown me such faith over the past year. I’ve learned a lot from her.” Nevaeh looked at him, a soft smile on her lips and her dark eyes shining.
“She sounds like an amazing woman.” Mrs. Richards pointed at them with her fork. “If you two are serious, we should plan a day to meet her.”
“My mom would love that. Nevaeh is one of her favorite people.” Lamont let out a breath. This was okay. Not fantastic, but not bad either.
“We’re still waiting to hear how this developed from a business relationship into a real one,” Mr. Richards added.
Because the paparazzi are cockroaches, and I need to save my skin. So far Lamont had yet to see any turn of the tide with their relationship news. Maybe the Luminary article would help change that.
He rubbed his hand on his jean-clad leg. “I started taking notice of her, and we started talking, and then I let her know how much I wanted to get to know her better.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I was up-front about my unusual life and the desire to genuinely date her as much as we can in the spotlight.”
“And you were okay with that, bean?” Mr. Richards studied Nevaeh for once.
Coolness enveloped Lamont’s face. It was almost like he’d been under stage lights, but now that the gentleman had turned the spotlight on Nevaeh, Lamont could breathe.
“Yes. I admit part of the appeal of dating him was being a longtime fan.”
“If that’s what you call the T-shirts, posters, and DVD collection, then, yes, ‘longtime fan’ works.” Her mother snorted.
Kind of cute to learn Nevaeh got her sarcastic snorts from her mom.
“I also can’t lie about his looks.”
“People may have exaggerated,” Mr. Richards groused.
Lamont chuckled, stifling it when her father glared at him. Still, Lamont thought he saw a twitch of the older man’s lips. Maybe Mr. Richards didn’t want to admit how odd the situation was, but the repressed humor said otherwise.
“So what made you say yes?” her mother asked.
“I couldn’t help but feel like it would be a missed opportunity if I didn’t.”
Good answer.
“And you two have been dating ever since?” Mr. Richards asked.
“Yes, sir,” Nevaeh replied.
“Did you go right from high school to film?” Mrs. Richards asked. “What’s your background? Surely your mother encouraged you to pursue a real career.”
Lamont bit back a sigh, then Nevaeh’s hand squeezed his and his irritation dissipated. Maybe this was a way for him to help Nevaeh. He straightened in his seat. “Actually, my mom fully supported my acting career. She said I was destined to be in front of an audience, whether that was on stage or in front of a camera. However, I had other interests, so I pursued an education in between sets.”
“Really?” A sudden gleam entered Mr. Richards’s eyes. “What did you major in?”
“I got a bachelor’s degree in education.”
Mrs. Richards’s mouth dropped open, and her husband sat back with a smile on his face. “Well, I’ll be.”
Thirteen
A degree in education?
It took every ounce of willpower to school my features as my new boyfriend won my parents over with a bachelor’s degree. I didn’t even know it was possible to see two unwilling-to-look-on-the-bright-side people change their minds. If I hadn’t witnessed the transformation with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.
The next thing I knew, Mom was sharing her favorite of Lamont’s movies. Even scolded him a time or two for the few villain roles he’d played. Then my dad offered him a glass of whiskey. The whiskey that he only pulled out for special occasions. Never having a full glass, just enough to coat the bottom of the tumbler.
What’s happening here?
Finally, we finished dinner, and Lamont offered to clear dishes.
I stood. “I’ll help too.”
He winked, and I fought the urge to keep the blush from developing, but it was no use. Despite getting to know Lamont Booker away from the whole Hollywood heartthrob moniker, my cheeks still heated, and my mind still asked, Why me?
I mean, duh, the paparazzo photo. As much as I told myself that, the rapid heartbeat, clammy hands, and stars in my eyes had failed to dissipate. I didn’t want to swoon over something as simple as him offering to clear the table. Besides, that’s probably how Ms. Rosie raised him. Or maybe he was trying to win points from my parents.
Either way, I found myself wiping down the counters while Lamont loaded the dishwasher. Something perfectly domestic and surreal at the same time. How was this my life?
“Your parents are nice,” he said after a few minutes of silence.
I barely repressed the scoff. “They’re just impressed with your degree because they have the same one. Though they also have master’s degrees.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a bachelor’s in education, considering how your parents are.”
The snort flew free. “I do have one.”
“Wait, what?” He paused, a plate in hand.
“In order for them to pay for college, I had to follow their same career path. I ended up paying for cosmetology school and a license a year later.”
