* * *
Summer Jam is one of my regular shoots. The City of Hermosa Beach sets up a stage on the sand and people gather on their towels and lawn chairs to enjoy the tunes. It doesn’t get better than this. I have a press pass, so I can go to the backstage area and take pictures of the band members and interview them a bit for the piece I’m doing for the Times entertainment section.
I head backstage to catch up with a few of the bands after the first set ends. The lead singer of Simplicity, Seth Greene, is sitting on the edge of the stage drinking a beer. I sit next to him and start asking a few questions. We’ve met before, but I’m not sure he remembers me or not. After all, these guys meet so many photographers in their line of work, I don’t expect them to pick me out of a crowd. My name is better known for my photojournalism – the kinds of things like my trips to Africa and England.
“Seth, it’s nice seeing you again.”
“You too, Katrina.” So, he does remember me.
“Tell me about upcoming venues where Simplicity will be playing.”
“We’ve got a show at the Whiskey, a night at the Greek, and then we have some shows down in San Diego. From there we are waiting to hear about whether we’re going to Canada and across the Midwest for a fall tour opening for some larger bands.”
“That’s great, Seth. Sounds like things are picking up for you and Simplicity.”
“Sure are. Talks are underway. We’re possibly garnering a record deal with a major label. I can’t say who right now, but it’s a possible huge change for us. You know, like they say, our big break.”
“You’ve worked hard for this. I hope you get that break.”
Seth turns to me and says, “So, Katrina, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Is a beautiful photographer available for brunch tomorrow, or do you have a steady man in your life that keeps the rest of us wishing we had asked you sooner?”
Man-fast. No men. Nope. No. Men. But Seth Greene is handsome. He’s not a mindless womanizer like so many in his industry, at least if I can believe the word on the street about him.
Why, all of a sudden, do I find myself thinking about the times I spent with Jack? Seth Greene is a hot commodity. Women would die to have him ask them to brunch – or to ask them to open a box of crackers for him, really. My mind travels to thoughts of dancing with Jack at the wedding, what it felt like to be in his arms. He was strong in a gentle way, supporting me and leading without being possessive or overbearing. I remember how his eyes locked with mine. Those eyes. I remember him listening to me intently as I shared the joys of traveling to Africa, and then him pouring out his heart about his dream of opening a coffee shop. Sorry, Seth Greene. I’m not only on a man-fast, I think my heart belongs to a man I’ll likely never see again.
“Katrina?” Seth is staring at me.
“Hmmm?”
“I was waiting for your answer. Would you join me for brunch tomorrow? Or is your dance card taken?” He gives me a confident and charming smile.
“Sorry, Seth. Yes. As a matter of fact, I’m committed. It was good catching up with you. Best wishes on that label deal.” I hop off the stage as I realize I need to put space between me and Seth.
“Thanks. Tell that guy he’s one lucky man. I hope he has the sense not to let a woman like you slip through his fingers.”
* * *
Michael and I are sitting in my living room going over options for a few shoots. He’s on the floor with his laptop on his lap. I’m sprawled across my couch. I’m basically only picking up piecemeal work as Michael puts together the finishing touches on our trip to Montana.
“So, Michael. Guess who asked me to brunch?”
“Who? The prime minister of England?”
“No, goofball. Seth Greene.”
“And? …”
“And I said no.” He stops what he’s doing and looks over his laptop at me.
“You turned down brunch with Seth Greene? Are you psycho? He’s a great guy. I’m pretty sure every woman in the South Bay would line up to wash his car, let alone go to brunch with him. Tell me again why you did this?” He shakes his head like I’ve officially lost my mind.
“It’s simple. He’s not my type.”
“Oh, as in corporate MBA type.” He gives an eyeroll. Michael is the epitome of a baby brother right now – teasing his sister about boys.
“No. That’s not it. Yes, Jack had his MBA, but that wasn’t what mattered. He was so much more.” So much more. Why didn’t I get his cell number or give him mine? For crying out loud. That’s pretty much what women and men do – they exchange numbers.
All I have left feels like Cinderella’s one night with the prince. Now I’m back to wearing rags, sweeping chimneys, and talking to pet mice. Something like that. Either way, my prince came, and I missed my chance. If only I could go back and give myself a clue. I’d tell myself not to leave without having a surefire way to reconnect with him. I’d have been clearer about my feelings for him.
Blasted man-fast. Little good it’s doing me while I sit here pining away for a guy who has vanished into the mist. I think my ovaries must be exploding. There’s no other reason I should be this swept up in a guy I barely spent a total of twelve hours with.
Michael is just staring at me. Yep. I’m that pathetic.
“Give it up, Michael. I’m not meant to be in relationship and I’m for sure not going to brunch with an up and coming rock star right before I leave for Montana.” Michael mutters something about me being more fun than a hibernating bear in January and we both get back to work. Note to self: Don’t tell anyone the next time some guy asks me out no matter who it is.
Later that night as I’m sitting watching reruns of Gilmore Girls in my flannel pjs, I get a text from Michael
Michael: Hey, sorry I pushed about Seth. I just want to see you happy.
Katrina: No problem. I understand. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just not into dating rn. K?
Michael: No pressure. If you want to marry me, let me know.
Katrina: Ha. Lol. You’re the best.
Michael: You are too, so feel free to say yes. We get along fine. It would save rent.
Katrina: slay me you romantic.
Michael: so, that’s a no?
Katrina: yep. A hard pass, but no. You need to keep your options open. One of us might be off the market, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find your happily ever after some day.
Michael: I’ll keep that in mind. For now, I love traveling with you and keeping you out of trouble.
Katrina: and for that I’m grateful. Good night, Michael.
Michael: G’nite.
I do love that guy. But, love like a BFF or brother. Besides, I don’t get even the slightest spark around him. Nope. Michael is strictly and happily a friend. I honestly wonder if a woman like me can ever marry. I’m pretty much in a committed, long term, passionate romance with being a freelance photographer. I never sit still for too long. I’m able to take job offers when they come.
I know one thing. If I ever did marry, I’d want a man a little more head over heels with me than Michael. I don’t simply want to be someone’s convenient match. If I were ever going to settle down, it would have to be with someone more like Jack Anders. Good grief, I’m plagued by that man.