“Thanks for telling me. I guess I’m used to New York, where there’s always something open, no matter what time of day or night.” She gathered her things and put them back in the tote bag. “I was sitting with Adela, Franny and Guermo, but they all went to get barbeque. That sounded a bit heavy to me, so I told them to go ahead without me. Have you eaten yet?”
He patted his flat midsection. “As a matter of fact, I just got back from the barbeque place. It was delicious, but if you’re looking for lighter fare, the place I mentioned has a lot of different choices. They had what looked like a well-stocked salad bar.”
“Say no more. You’ve convinced me,” Katrina told him as she stood. For a moment, he was much closer than she’d expected, but he moved out of her space after a slight pause.
“Enjoy,” he said, already turning away.
Hurt for no reason she could think of by his casual dismissal, she shouldered her purse and tote bag and headed out of the hotel to make the short walk down the street to the place they’d talked about. The restaurant was on the corner, and there was a long vestibule with a roped off lane where people waited to be seated or to place to-go orders. Katrina went in, and no sooner had she taken a step toward the roped lane than a camera flash went off almost in her face.
Katrina was taken aback by the unexpected flash and looked over to see a group of people standing off to one side in the vestibule, fielding professional-looking cameras. Could they be paparazzi? The local news had let the cat out of the bag last night, disclosing that Ren was in town. Maybe a group of eager beavers had set up camp on the off chance he might show up somewhere and were taking pictures of anyone who looked like they might be involved in the film.
“Hey, sweetheart,” one of the men called out to her. Not wanting to be rude, she looked at him as he moved a little closer. “There’s fifty bucks in it for you if you tell me where to find Rendall Smith.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” Katrina said instantly. No way would she sell out Ren for fifty bucks—or any amount, for that matter.
“A hundred,” the bald-headed man upped his offer.
Katrina shook her head. “Sorry. I really don’t know where he is.” That was the truth. At this exact moment in time, she didn’t know for sure where he was.
“Well, tell your friends. I’ll pay for information on his location. Shots of him sell high,” he claimed, but something about his words rang a little false to Katrina’s ears. She couldn’t say why, but the man with the shaved head gave her the creeps.
He didn’t look much like a photographer, come to think of it. He had bulging muscles, as if he was a gym rat, and tattoos she couldn’t really see peeping out from under the tight short sleeves of his T-shirt. Something about him felt…almost…dangerous, though she couldn’t say exactly why.
Katrina decided to put on her best movie star attitude and brazen it out as she walked away from the man. There was a short line of people waiting to be seated or give their orders, so she made a beeline for them. The other camera-wielders took a few more pictures, but they didn’t make a move to block her path or anything overt, so they probably were after Ren or some of the other, more familiar, faces in the cast.
Frankly, she was glad to be an unknown at the moment. She just wanted to get her dinner and go back to the comparative safety of the hotel. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Ren, to have people stalking him with camera or autograph books at all times. For a moment, she almost felt sorry for him, then she realized how ludicrous that was. Poor little super star, can’t get dinner without being photographed. That really wasn’t such a big problem to have in the grand scheme of things.
Katrina walked down the little path that somehow felt like a catwalk runway all of a sudden. She made it to the ropes and walked between them as casually as possible. Recognizing a few faces from the fight scene she’d watched that afternoon, she felt more confident.
They saw her and smiled, so she walked up to them and decided to introduce herself, feeling a bit like she was still on display with the camera people watching her every move. She smiled at them and felt somehow safer joining them, even though she didn’t know these people personally.
“Hi, I’m Kat. I saw you both in the melee this afternoon, right?” She held out her hand, and the men shook it, one after the other, welcoming her.
“I’m Tom, and this is Jeffrey. We’re Merry Men,” the first man told her.
“Stick with us, Kat. Those paparazzi are vicious,” Jeffrey put in, winking as he joked.
She laughed with them. “I’ve never encountered anything like this before,” she told them. “Is this normal?”
“With Ren in the area, it can get weird,” Tom replied, rolling his eyes. “That boy attracts cameras like flies to honey.”
They moved up in the line and were only one group away from putting in their orders. Some newcomers filled in the rope line behind them, blocking the cameras somewhat.
“You’re playing Marian,” Jeffrey said, not asking but stating it as fact. Katrina nodded anyway.
“It’s my first film,” she replied. “I guess you can tell.”
“Not at all,” Tom assured her. “We’ve heard good things about your work this morning. Sonia certainly seemed pleased.”
Shocked that everyone seemed to have heard about the morning’s work, Katrina blushed a bit.
“Don’t worry,” Jeffrey put in. “You’re doing fine.”
“Are you eating in or taking out?” Tom asked as they moved a little closer to the head of the line.
“I was just going to get a salad to go,” she told them. “Everybody is sitting in the lobby, chatting and eating takeout.”
“Yeah, we’ll join the group later,” Jeffrey said. “But, after all that leaping about earlier, I want to sit down and be waited on for an hour.” He chuckled, and Katrina smiled back.
“I can appreciate that,” she agreed.
“You’re welcome to join us, of course,” Tom added, politely, but she could tell they had made their plans, and she didn’t want to horn in on them.
“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but I’m just going to get mine to go. Maybe another night,” she answered. By that time, they were at the head of the line, and the hostess took the two men to their table while the counter person dealt with Katrina’s order.
She got her salad and walked back to the hotel without further incident. The run-in with the paparazzi made her shake her head as she thought about it on her way back. By the time she returned to the lobby, she could see that her trio of tablemates were back and already eating.
There were takeout containers everywhere, and someone had dragged over a set of rubber trash cans the management had probably brought out from storage, for everyone to throw away their used wrappers of various shapes, sizes and materials. The recycling bin was already overflowing, but even as she walked past, a hotel employee was emptying it and setting up a new plastic bag in the receptacle.
Katrina made her way through the crowd to the back table, and the others welcomed her back. She took out her little salad and diet soft drink while they picked through multiple boxes filled with barbequed meat, and little else, it seemed. Did these people never eat vegetables?