Finding Chris Evans: The Hollywood Edition (2 page)

BOOK: Finding Chris Evans: The Hollywood Edition
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“Thanks,” Trina murmured, accepting the bottle—too dizzy to be proud. The water helped. And so did the shade that the blonde angled over both of them from the umbrella she’d brought.

That was usually Trina. The planner. Always prepared. But for the last two weeks she’d been reeling. Lost in a way she hadn’t been since she first found out her mother was sick.

“Better?” The blonde asked, something about her expression reminding Trina of the best nurses who’d taken care of her mother during those last few awful months.

“Much. Thank you.”

“No problem. We Chris Evans Girls have to stick together.”

Trina managed a weak smile.

She’d never pictured herself as a Chris Evans Girl—whatever that was. She’d just met a guy she liked in a bar in Chicago on her first night in the Windy City. They’d had a fabulous time, the kind of night that made her think of forevers, but he’d had to fly off on business the next day—reluctantly revealing that he was something called the Addition Magician and he had to build a house in Atlanta for a deserving family.

They’d agreed to no strings, the timing too complicated for both of them, but they’d still exchanged cell numbers and then text messages. And she’d still been thinking forever. Maybe she would have been more realistic in her expectations, seen the writing on the wall, if she’d had any idea how famous he was. But she hadn’t known. And she’d been halfway to in love with him by week two.

Okay fine, more than halfway.

Then he’d said he would be finishing up his project a day early. He could spare a day before he had to go to Vegas for the next build. Did she want him to come see her in Chicago?

She’d been so excited she dropped her phone in a sink full of dishwater.

By the time a bag of rice had dried the soggy thing out two days later, she was frantic. She didn’t have the money to replace it and when the phone miraculously turned on, it was like a gift from the gods. She’d immediately replied. Yes, she wanted to see him. Yes, she missed him. Yes, to everything.

And he never replied.

No voicemail messages waiting. Just a series of increasingly worried and frustrated texts. Finally culminating with,
Fine. No strings it is.

She’d texted again. She’d called—and discovered the number was disconnected.

Celebrities changed their numbers all the time, she rationalized. He still had her number, though, and he would call her. When he was done with his new build, she would hear from him.

But she never did.

The disappointment had been crushing. And she couldn’t seem to let go of the hope that he still might call. Even when she told herself it was just an incredible night. That it was for the best. That she didn’t need to be distracted from med school anyway. That the memory would be enough.

Then the morning sickness started.

She’d missed her period, but told herself it was just the stress of medical school. She’d never been particularly regular to begin with. But when she almost puked on her anatomy professor, she was forced to face facts—and buy a pregnancy test.

Hello, Little Plus Sign of Doom. Bye Bye, Neatly Planned Life.

She’d never known positive could be such a terrifying word.

She’d renewed her attempts to get in touch with Chris—it could only be him since there hadn’t been anyone else in over a year. Newly motivated, she did more research, contacting his production company, his management company, any official number she could find that might let her get a message to him—until she came up against the brick wall of his manager, Marty the Snake.

No, Mr. Evans did not want to see her again.

No, Mr. Evans did not accept her claims of paternity.

And if she persisted, Mr. Evans would be forced to file harassment charges and a restraining order.

Trina had been crushed—for all of about ten seconds.

It just didn’t seem like Chris. The guy she’d met in that Chicago bar wouldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t just vanish. She believed that.

So she’d scanned his public appearances for the next few months, settling on a mall opening in rural Minnesota because it was the only one of his upcoming events that was open to the public and wasn’t half a continent away. She’d cut class, taking time she didn’t have to drive from Chicago to the wilds of Minnesota, because she couldn’t afford the last minute plane fare and she had to look him in the face and tell him.

But by the look of the line, she wasn’t going to be anywhere near his face.

A woman in pumps with a mall ID badge walked down the line, passing out mini water bottles with the mall’s logo on them and paper fans that looked like Chris’s head on a stick. Trina accepted one and began the surreal activity of fanning herself with her baby daddy’s face.

“That isn’t Captain America.” A woman a few feet ahead of them in line glared at the face-on-a-stick fans.

“Different Chris Evans,” the fan distributor explained.

“There’s more than one Chris Evans?” The woman frowned.

The blonde in front of Trina snorted. “Honey, you have no idea.”

The Captain America fan ahead of them huffed indignantly and stomped off toward Abercrombie.

“Good,” a voice piped up behind Trina, startling her. “Better odds for us.”

Trina turned, realizing belatedly that while she’d been chugging water and reminiscing, the line had been growing behind her. The petite brunette who’d spoken looked about nineteen and could have been a candidate for the superfan competition. She wasn’t just waving a Chris-Face fan, she had his body splayed across the front of her T-shirt and even wore an Addition Magician visor to keep the sun out of her eagerly shining eyes.

“I had no idea he was so popular,” Trina blurted out. Or that all of his fans would be female. Though given the crooked smile, she probably should have guessed.

“This is nothing. The only reason there are so few people here is because we’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I drove up from Minneapolis for this,” Fangirl announced proudly. “I would have been here sooner, but I had to work last night and I ran into the worst construction on the drive. I should have called in sick, like I did when he came to Madison last year, but my boss says I’ve already used my sick days for the next three years and if I don’t want to work there are other waitresses who’d be happy to have my job.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s such a Nazi. I just hope she didn’t make me miss my shot to meet him again.”

“You’ve already met him?”

“Madison,” Fangirl reminded her. “Now
that
was a zoo. It was right after that Daniella dumped him and every girl in the upper Midwest seemed to think she was destined to be the one to heal his broken heart.”

“Daniella?”

Fangirl looked at her as if she was wasting good oxygen by breathing. “From
Romancing Miss Right
? The dating show? That’s how Chris got his start.”
Don’t you know anything
was heavily implied by her tone. “He was one of the Suitors on Daniella’s season—he made it all the way to the end, but then she picked
Alan
, if you can believe it, though everyone could see he wasn’t there for the right reasons. Chris really loved her too. I was sure they were going to name him Mister Perfect on the next season, but instead they picked that awful astronaut who ended up crashing his car or something right before they were supposed to film. Of course, by then Chris had started doing the Addition Magician show and he didn’t have time to be Mister Perfect.”

Trina marveled that none of this had been on his official bio. It talked about his history as licensed contractor, how he’d built his first addition on his parents’ house when he was seventeen, and how his natural charm and warmth had landed him the reality TV gig—but she’d assumed the TV gig in question was the Addition Magician show, not a reality dating series known for being over the top and exploitative.

“When Daniella broke it off with Alan—which anyone could see coming—she came crawling back to Chris and of course, he took her back, because he still loved her. All these girls think they have a shot since he’s single, but if you ask me, he still loves her, which is why he hasn’t been with anyone else since they broke up.”

Queasiness churned in Trina’s stomach again. He’d never mentioned Daniella in Chicago, but Trina hadn’t exactly been offering up ex-tales either. Was Daniella why he’d suddenly stopped taking her calls? If he was getting back with his celebrity girlfriend, that would explain why he wouldn’t want a pregnant one-night-stand popping up from his past.

“Are you okay?” the blonde asked, angling her umbrella over the pair of them. “You look kind of green.”

“I’m good. Thanks.”
Just realizing I don’t know the first thing about the man whose child I’m carrying. Nothing to see here.
She extended her hand, hoping to make a friend with someone who didn’t have her baby daddy’s face on her shirt. “I’m Trina.”

The blonde took her hand with a friendly smile. “Ellie.” She nodded toward the Chris-Face fan in Trina’s hand. “Do you watch his show?”

“I’ve never seen it.” She wasn’t sure why she lied. She didn’t have cable in her Chicago apartment—she’d figured it was an unnecessary expense since she was going to be studying nonstop anyway—but she’d streamed half a dozen episodes when she found out she was going to have his baby and couldn’t seem to get in touch with him. And each one had only reminded her why she’d fallen for him. That crooked grin. The calm, unflappable air about him—like he was capable of shouldering any problem she could throw at him. Those abs….

No wonder half the women in Northern Minnesota were lined up to meet him.

“I haven’t seen it either,” Ellie confessed.

“Seriously?” Trina asked. “Then why are you here?”

A light flush touched Ellie’s pale skin. “Honestly? I went to a fortune teller who told me I was going to meet the love of my life and he was going to be named Chris Evans. I know it sounds a little crazy, but I thought, what the hell, right? Everyone has to meet their husband somehow and if this turns out to be how it happens for me, how great would that story be? You have to believe in magic when it comes to love, right? In destiny and kismet?”

Destiny. Was it the hand of destiny she’d felt when they met that night in Chicago? “You’re going to marry someone you’ve never even spoken to?”

“Maybe. I know I’ve never met him and maybe he’s not the guy, but what if he is?” Ellie nodded toward the Fangirl. “Our friend back there seems to think he’s pretty amazing.”

“He is,” Trina murmured, too soft to be heard.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. He does seem great.” On first glance. For the first night. But what did she really know about him?

“Why are you here, if you don’t watch his show?” Ellie asked.

Because I’m carrying his baby.

The words echoed loud in her brain but she couldn’t say them out loud. She felt like she couldn’t tell anyone else until she told him. Like she’d be betraying his trust somehow.

“I thought it was Captain America,” Trina said. She was trying to be funny and Ellie obligingly laughed, accepting the evasion though she obviously wasn’t buying the idea that Trina would wait for hours in the hot sun for someone she hadn’t even come to see.

The woman with the water and the Face Fans returned then, shouting out instructions as she went. “Chris has finished his presentation and begun the Meet and Greet portion of today’s event. He is delighted to see so many of his fans out here today and will try to make time to see as many of you as possible, but he has a flight to catch this afternoon so at some point we will have to cut off the line. There is no guarantee that you will see him today. I repeat—there is
no guarantee
that you will be able to see Chris Evans today.”

Trina’s stomach roiled.

“That said, we will try to get through as many of you as possible. For this reason, we ask that you all be ready. You will get
one photo and one photo only
. When you get to the front of the line, you will hand any bags and personal possessions to the security officer at the edge of the tent. You will hand your cell phone—already in the camera app—to Mr. Evan’s assistant, who will take the photo. The assistant will then hand your phone back to you and you will collect your possessions as you exit the tent. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.” Those waiting in the line chuckled at the mall organizer’s attempt at humor and she smiled, shouting, “Good luck!” before moving down the line to repeat her spiel.

“Quite a production,” Ellie murmured.

Trina nodded, barely keeping it together as the line began to inch ever so slowly forward.

“Lots of security,” Ellie commented, eyeing the large men in colorful polo shirts intermixed with the mall’s regular security personnel.

“No one gets close to him that he doesn’t want close to him,” Trina spoke from personal experience. She’d been trying for two weeks and all she’d gotten were threats of restraining orders from his manager.

“It must be surreal, being that famous,” Ellie mused.

“Mm-hmm.” Trina smoothed her hair, feeling the frizz beginning to reach critical mass, and tried to remind herself to breathe. Breathing was good for the baby, right?

“Maybe he is waiting for the right girl,” Ellie murmured. “How hard must it be to meet someone if everyone you meet is a five second photo op? How would you fall in love?”

You lie about your identity in a Chicago bar
. Though, if she was fair, he hadn’t lied. He’d said his name was Chris. He’d told her he was a contractor. He’d just left a lot out.

“I can’t believe anyone would pick
Alan
over Chris,” a voice carried over the crowd—not the Fangirl behind them, but another of her kindred spirits. “When all the other guys were losing their shit and going on testosterone rampages, he always kept his cool.”

“He’s the same way on his show,” another voice replied. “When the homeowners are freaking out, he’s so calm and collected. Nothing ever shakes him.”

Trina wondered if he would be shaken when he found out he was going to be a daddy. She’d certainly been shaken as hell by the Little Plus Sign of Doom.

BOOK: Finding Chris Evans: The Hollywood Edition
3.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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