After our delicious meal, we decided to play a game of cards. We were drinking wine and had a nice fire burning in the fireplace. Everything was peaceful.

“Mom, did you have fun today?” Ryan asked.

“I was clothes shopping, Honey.” She winked at him. “Taryn was recognized by the one young cashier. The girl knew that she’s dating you. She even asked us to pose for a picture.”

“Her picture is plastered all over the Internet with me, Mom. You know how it is. This week she’ll be in every gossip magazine in print. I was worried how it would affect her, but she seems to be handling it very well.” I noted the sound of pride in his voice. It made me smile.

“Just as long as you don’t read the garbage they print with the pictures, we’ll be fine.” He kicked my foot so I’d get the point.

“I hate to break it to you, Son, but the two of you are already on the cover of the magazines. There’s a big picture of you and Taryn on the cover of the Weekly Reporter. We saw it at the store today.” Ellen’s expression was a mix of unhappiness and pride.

“Your mom and I also got chased by some of your fans at the Outlet. Either I was recognized or that cashier called some friends. I think they were hoping that we would lead them to you but we gave them the slip!” I told him.

“Welcome to my world.” He frowned. “So, what did you buy today?”

“She bought you new jeans,” Ellen quickly tattled on me.

I saw him look over at me, even though my eyes were still staring at my cards. I knew I was going to get scolded, so I held my index finger up and stopped him in his tracks.

“Ah, before you complain, I’d just like to say that I’ve personally washed all the pants that you own, and you were desperately in need of a nonripped pair. I only got you three pair – and one is just like those old favorites you’re wearing right now with the button fly.”

“Please tell me you bought yourself something,” he groaned, obviously displeased that I spent his money on him.

“Yes, I did. I got a couple of new shirts and some pants. Thank you for buying them.” I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.

“Thank you for thinking of me, too.”

“Well, I can’t have my boyfriend walking around with his underwear showing through the holes in his back pockets. The color and style of your underwear needs to remain a closely guarded family secret,” I snickered.

His mom started laughing at me. “Why are all these fans so desperate to know what kind of underwear you have on? They ask you that question every time you get interviewed.”

“He’s a movie star, Mom. All women have fantasies about what their favorite actor looks like... somewhat naked,” I answered.

“All women?” Ryan questioned, raising an eyebrow at me.

I looked at him, knowing exactly what he meant. “I’m sure you have your fantasy list too. But I don’t want to know who’s on that list in case you ever have to work with one of them.”

“Who’s on your list?” he goaded.

“Just one. Ryan Christensen. He’s so dreamy!”

His parents were laughing hysterically at my comment. “I think you’ve met your match, Son!” his father bellowed.

Ryan made a special effort to model his underwear around the guestroom when we all departed for bed. He was trying to get my attention.

“I wish I would have brought the script with me. I’m going to need to run lines. Do you think you’d like to help me do that when we get home?

Follweiler wants me to screen test with a few actresses out in L.A.”

Ryan crawled under the covers and I snuggled up against him. “Sure. I’d be happy to help, although I don’t know how good I’ll be at it. I mean I’m not an actress.”

“You don’t have to be, although Follweiler thought you were. It’s no big deal, Honey. You just need to read the lines.” He yawned, his eyes examined my face. “What’s wrong?”

My worry must have been showing.

“I don’t know. I guess I feel at a disadvantage that I’m not that familiar with all this acting stuff. Sometimes I feel inadequate.”

“It will come. You’ll end up knowing more about it than I do one day!” Ryan twisted my hair in his fingers.

I shrugged as he held me.

“What’s really bothering you?” he asked, concerned.

I sighed heavily, unsure of whether I should really tell him.

He tilted his head, waiting.

“Actors… actresses. You usually don’t hear about actors and tavern owners,” I whispered. I figured it was a safe start.