Someone Else's Fairytale Read Online Free Page B

where I broke my little finger and cried over it while all the stunt guys laughed at me. Didn't happen, though I probably would cry like a baby if it did.”
    This guy had a seriously strange life.
    He looked up at me again, as if unsure what to say next. “Look, can I get your phone number?”
    “Not to be rude, but why?”
    “You seem really cool. Real down to earth. Talking like this? It's been nice.”
    “And you seem very nice.” I looked past him at his security guys– that's what I assumed they were –all trying to look like they weren't with us. A group of girls headed in our direction and one of the men got up to block them. “You also have one of the weirdest jobs on the planet. Sorry, that's-”
    He laughed. “The truth? Like I said, you seem really cool. I'm in town sometimes to see my family. We should hang out.” He pulled out his phone.
    It seemed rude to say no, so I gave him my number, and keyed his into my beat up little flip phone. More women and girls were streaming into the restaurant.
    Jason turned and surveyed the scene. “Maybe this'll be good for business for you?”
    “I can disarm the alarm so you can go out the back door?”
    “That'd be great, but in a few. I can sign some autographs and stuff. Get them to buy food, I hope.” He got to his feet.
    “You don't have to-”
    “It's cool.” He and his guys all rallied together and turned to face the growing crowd.
    I stole away. It was cowardly, but I had the feeling that if these women noticed me sitting at his table, they might lynch me. Besides, it was past time for me to get back to work. I ducked behind the counter and tied my apron on. Abby was wrestling with the Red Stuff machine, which dispensed a mix of cranberry juice and red tea that was very popular in the summer.
    “Here,” I said. I grasped the handle and twisted it back so that the machine would work again.
    “Okay, so spill. How do you know him?”
    Everyone behind the counter looked at me. “Shh,” I said. “I don't want to get beaten up by a bunch of fans.”
    “Are you involved with him?” Abby asked.
    “Um. No. He's dating Corey Cassidy, right? I barely know him. Like I said, he kind of knows my family and recognized me when I was an extra in his movie. He grew up in town.”
    “Yeah, I know,” said Abby. “I have a friend of a friend who had a locker next to him at La Cueva. Junior year.”
    “Oh,” I said. “Cool.” He'd just told me that he hadn't been there for his junior year, but whatever. I felt a little sorry for anyone who felt the need to make up a claim like that. Surely they'd done something more interesting in their life than have a locker next to a guy who now pretended to be other people for a living?
    The crowd surged as people mobbed Jason for autographs, and we sold four hundred to-go orders for coffee in an hour. It was insane. What was also insane was the number of girls who were crying and shaking as they paid, as if they were in the presence of divinity. Jason was “sooo sexy” and “sooo nice”. I let him and his crew out the back door when he texted me to explain he needed to catch his plane to LA.
    “I'll see you, Chloe,” he said as he put his sunglasses on and stepped out into the brightness.
     

     
    Usually I walked to and from work, but that day I'd driven. Big mistake. I walked around to the parking lot at the end of my shift and found the tires on one side of my car had been slashed. It listed to one side, like a sinking ship. I called my insurance company, then the police – their non-emergency number. “I need to file a report,” I told the woman who picked up. “Someone vandalized my car.”
    “Do you know whom?”
    “No.”
    “Have you got any enemies or-”
    “You know, this is really stupid, but I vaguely know Jason Vanderholt. We had coffee this morning and, maybe I'm paranoid but-”
    “One of his fans vandalized your car?”
    “Dumb theory?”
    “No. There's a cruiser that should be there any