Moonlight Beach Bachelors: Her Forbidden Cowboy

He nodded and released her to go lean against the railing.

Free of his touch, she marched the glasses into the kitchen, handing them to Mrs. Lopez one at a time. She had to do something to quell her pounding heart. What the heck was wrong with her?

“Dios, you do not do the work around here. That’s my job, no?”

“Yes. But I like to help.”

It was the same conversation she’d had with Mrs. Lopez since she’d arrived here. Jessica saw nothing wrong with putting clothes in the washer and turning the thing on, or clearing the dishes, or helping slice potatoes for a meal. Today, especially, she needed to do something with her hands.

“Sí, okay.” A relenting sigh echoed in the kitchen.

She picked up dirty dishes on the counter, loaded them in the dishwasher and put things back in the refrigerator. A few chores later, after scanning the clean kitchen they’d both worked on, she gave Mrs. Lopez a bright smile. The woman was shaking her head, but with a twinkle in her eyes. Progress.

Jessica strode out the kitchen door and was immediately knocked against the doorjamb. Pain shot to her shoulder. The jarring bump brought Mariah’s face into view. “Oh, sorry.”

Mariah was equally shocked from the collision. “I didn’t see you.”

“My fault. I should learn how to slow down.”

She chuckled. “I’m the same way. I’ve got to get where I’m going fast, no matter if it’s just to sip coffee and read the newspaper.” Mariah, always impeccably dressed, rubbed her shoulder through her cognac-colored silk blouse. “Guess we’re alike in that regard. Where were you going in such a hurry?”

“Nowhere. Just outside. I left Zane hanging and I wanted to go back to talk to him.”

“Good luck with that. I just left him, and he’s a bear right now.”

“Oh, really? Why?” It couldn’t be the Dylan McKay thing, could it?

“I don’t know exactly what set him off other than he hates being confined. He feels like a caged animal. Though he doesn’t make an effort to go anywhere, other than for business.”

“I can see how that would make him restless.”

Mariah smiled. “That’s the perfect way to describe it. He’s restless. But I’m afraid that came on well before his fall. I think a change of pace is good for him. I’ve helped him make the decision to open this second restaurant, and now he’s thinking about movie roles. It might be just what he needs.”

Or maybe he was running away from his past, the same way she was. Zane loved music. He loved writing lyrics and composing songs. He was meant to entertain. His sexy, deep baritone voice made his fans swoon. That’s the only Zane she’d known.

“Dylan invited you in to hear his pitch, I understand. What did you think of the movie?”

“Me? Well, I, uh...to be honest, I think the idea of Zane and Dylan being estranged brothers coming home after the death of their father might work. If Zane can act, he’d be great in the role. The only issue I see is the love triangle about the girl back home. I saw Zane’s reaction to Dylan’s description of the romantic scenes he’d have to do. Zane instantly shut down. I’m not sure if Zane’s up to that.”

“That’s exactly what I think, too. Zane’s not going to do something he’s not comfortable with. Believe me, I know. I’ve had plenty of discussions with him about his recent decisions. He bounces things off me. He asks me a question, and I tell him the truth.”

“Which is?”

“I will say this. Zane can act. He’s been doing so for over two years now. His public persona is far different than the real Zane.” Mariah was ready to say more and then clamped shut. Her eyes downcast, she shook her head. “Forgive me. I keep forgetting who you are.”

Jessica drew her brows together. “It’s because of Janie. He’s still hurting.”

Mariah nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

Mariah’s eyes fell on her softly, her genuine warmth shining through. “Please forget I said anything. It’s none of my business.”

The idea that after two years, Zane was still making decisions based on the love he had for Janie, nestled deep into her heart. It was beautiful in a way, but also incredibly sad. “You’re Zane’s personal assistant. You spend a lot of time together. I can see that you care about him as a friend, too, so maybe it’s more your business than mine.”

“Zane thinks of you as family. He’s said so a dozen times since you’ve come here.”

“I’m the little sis he never had.” Wasn’t that the term he’d used this afternoon with Dylan McKay?

Stop corrupting my little sis.

Zane’s loyalty to her family was very sweet. She didn’t take it lightly, but she also didn’t want him to think of her as a pity case. From the moment her shocked guests walked out of the church on her wedding day, weeks ago now, something harsh and cold seeped into her soul. Trust would be a long time coming, if ever again. So Zane didn’t have to worry over her. She wasn’t a woman looking for love. She wasn’t on the rebound. He could sleep well at night.

“So, what are you up to today?” she asked Mariah. She was learning the ins and outs of Zane’s superstardom. Mariah sifted through a dozen offers a day for special appearances, television interviews and charity events on Zane’s behalf. She’d learned that Zane was a generous contributor to children and military charities, but lately, he’d declined any personal appearances. Mariah worked with his fan club president on occasion and took care of any personal business, such as setting up medical appointments or shopping trips. It was a different world, one that her sister, Janie, had resigned herself to because she’d been with Zane from the launch of his career. They’d grown into this life together.

“More restaurant business to do today. We’ve got a decorator working on the interior design, but Zane’s not sure about the motif.” Mariah’s cell phone rang, and she excused herself.

Jessica walked over to the French door leading out to the deck. Zane was sprawled out on a lounge chair, shaded from the sun, his booted foot elevated, reading the script Dylan had brought over. Keen on the subject matter, he seemed deep in thought. As her gaze lingered, she watched him close the binder and stare out to sea, his expression incredibly wistful.

She followed the direction of his gaze and honed in on the vast view of the ocean. The sounds of the sea lulled her into a soothing state of mind. It was a place to find infinite peace, if there ever was such a thing. Her nerves no longer throbbed against her skin. These past few days, she’d been much calmer. Were time and distance all she’d needed to get over Steven Monahan? Geesh, Jessica felt at one with nature and started to believe. A chuckle rose from her throat at the notion. She was beginning to sound like a true Californian.

“Crap! Damn things.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed Zane’s crutches fall to the ground. The slap echoed against the wood deck. Zane was off the chair, bending to pick them up and trying to keep weight off his bad foot. It looked like a yoga move gone bad. She moved quickly, her legs eating up the length of the deck to get to him.

“Zane, hang on.”

He stumbled and fell over, landing on his bad hand. “Ow!”

By the time she reached him, he was on his butt, cursing like the devil, shaking out his wrist. She kneeled beside him. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

He tilted his head toward her. “You mean other than my pride?”

She smiled. “Yes, we’ll deal with that later. How’s the hand?”

“I managed to catch the fall on the tips of my fingers, so the wrist should be fine.”

He moved his fingers one by one as if he was playing keys on a piano. So much for keeping his hand immobilized. “Maybe your doctor would be a better judge of that.”

“Now you sound like Mariah.”

“I knew an old goat like you once,” she said, putting his right arm over her shoulder. “Let me help you up.”

“I knew the same goat,” he bounced back. “Smart critter.”

“Pleeeze. Okay, are you ready? On three.” She swung her arm around his waist. “One. Two. Three.”

His weight drew her toward him, the side of her face against his chest, her hair brushing his shirt. He smelled like soap and lime shaving lotion. His heart pounded in her ear as she strained to help lift him.

Zane did most of the work, his brawny strength a blessing. Together, they managed to stand steady, Zane keeping weight off his foot by using her as his right crutch. Once again, just like the other night, she was wrapped tight in his arms. Ridiculous warmth flowed through her body. She couldn’t explain it except she felt safe with him, which was silly because this time she’d done the rescuing. “There,” she said, satisfied she’d gotten him upright. “Now, we’re even.”

His arm over her shoulder, he turned to her with eyes flickering. “Is that so?”

Well, maybe not. She was getting drunk on him, minus the alcohol. “Yes, that’s so.”

“I could’ve gotten up on my own, you know.”

“It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

He laughed. “True.”

“So, I’m glad I was here to help. Show a little gratitude.”

He wasn’t a man who liked taking help. That was part of the problem. His gaze roamed over the deck where he’d spent most of his day, and she sensed his frustration.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked.

“Sure. Where would you like to go?” Mariah said he didn’t like to go out, so she couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. If he needed some breathing room, away from his gorgeous house and his familiar surroundings, who was she to deny him?

“Anywhere. I don’t care. Are you up to driving my car?”

“I can manage that. I’m going to get your crutches now, okay?” She didn’t wait for an answer.

She released him and he stood there, balancing himself for the two seconds it took her to pick up both of his crutches and hand them over. Tucking one under each arm, he pointed a crutch toward the door. “After you.”

Three

To her surprise, Zane picked his silver convertible sports car for her to drive over the black SUV sitting in his three-car garage. The other car, a little blue sedan, had to be Mariah’s car. Jessica helped him get into his seat, taking his crutches and setting them into the narrow backseat before closing his door.

As soon as she climbed behind the steering wheel, she understood why Zane didn’t venture out much. Sitting in the passenger seat, he was encumbered by his foot, broken in three places, which required him to be extremely careful. He also put on a disguise. Well, a Dodgers baseball cap instead of his signature Stetson and sunglasses wasn’t much of a disguise, but she knew where he was coming from. He couldn’t afford to be recognized and surrounded by fans or paparazzi. In his condition, he couldn’t make a fast getaway. “Why am I driving this car?”

“More fun for you.”

“You mean more scary, don’t you? How much is this car worth, just in case I wreck it, or—heaven forbid—put a scratch on it?”

He smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s insured.”

Stalling for time, she fidgeted with her glasses and took several deep breaths before she turned to Zane. He was still smiling at her. At the moment, she didn’t enjoy being his source of amusement.

“Here goes.” With the press of a button, the engine purred to life. Zane showed her how to adjust her seat and mirrors using the control buttons. Once set, she supposed she was as ready as she would ever be. She pumped the gas pedal and gripped the steering wheel. She’d never driven anything but a sedan, a boring four-door family car with no bells and whistles. This car had it all. A thrill shimmied up her legs...all that power under her control.

She backed the car out of the garage and made the turn into a long driveway that reached the front gate. Upon Zane’s voice command, the gate slid open, and she pulled forward and onto the highway. She drove along the shoreline, keeping her eyes trained on the road and her speed under thirty miles per hour.

His back was angled against the passenger door and his seat. She sensed him watching her. He’d opted to keep the top up on the convertible, for anonymity, she supposed. Even though he’d not had a hint of scandal to his name, every time Zane went out, he risked being photographed. Putting the top down on his car in the light of day would be like asking for trouble.

She didn’t dare shoot him a glance, keeping her focus on the road.

“What?” she asked finally. “Your grandmother drives faster than me?”

“I didn’t say a word.” His Texas drawl seeped into her bones. “But now that you mention it, I think my great-grandmother drove her horse and buggy a mite faster than you.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Maybe I’d drive faster if I knew where I was going.”

He sighed. “I’ve learned that sometimes, it’s better not to know where you’re going. Sometimes, planning isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Some roads are better not mapped out.”

After that cryptic statement, she did look his way and found him resting his head against the window. His sunglasses hid his eyes and his true expression. The mood in the car grew heavy, and she didn’t know how to answer him, so she buttoned her lips and continued to drive.

After five minutes of silence, Zane shifted in his seat. “Wanna see the site of the restaurant? The framework is up.”

“I’d love to.”

He directed her down a side road that wound around a cove. Then the beach opened up again to a street that faced the ocean. Unique shops and a few other small restaurants sparsely dotted the shoreline before she came upon the skeletal frame of a building.

“There it is. You can park along the side of the road here.” He gestured to a space, and she swung the car into the spot.

“This is a great location.”

“I think so, too. On a clear day, there’s visibility for miles going in either direction.”

The beach was wide where the restaurant would sit, far enough from the water to avoid high tides. A rock embankment jutted out to the left, where pelicans rested, scoping out their next meal. Above them and across the road, far up on the cliffs sat zillion-dollar homes overlooking the coastline.

“Do you want to get out?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Hold on,” she said, killing the engine and climbing out. She reached into the backseat and grabbed his crutches, then strolled to his side of the car. He was lifting himself out of his seat by the time she got there. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

She waited for him to get his bearings, and they moved through the sand until they reached the beach side of the restaurant. “So this is Zane’s on the Beach.”

“Yep. Gonna be.”

“I suppose it’s good that you’re branching out. You’ve become a regular entrepreneur.”

“Can’t sing forever.”

Why not? Willie Nelson, George Strait and Dolly Parton weren’t having career problems. And neither was Zane. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not eager to go back to doing what you love to do?”

It was a personal question. Maybe too personal, given that Zane didn’t react to it at all. He simply stared at the ocean, thinking.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Don’t apologize, Jess,” he rasped with a note of irritation. “You can ask me anything you want.”

Okay, she’d take him up on that. “So, then, why are you searching for something else when you’ve established yourself as a superstar and you have fans all over the world waiting for your return?”

He closed his eyes briefly. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m tired of being in my own skin.”

It was the most honest answer he could’ve given her. Zane was hurting. Still. And he didn’t know how to deal with it. “I get that. After my disastrous breakup with Steven, I felt totally out of options. I didn’t know who to trust, what to believe. I couldn’t make a decision to save my life. That’s why when I had to get out of Dodge, I let my mother take over and make arrangements. After she did, I didn’t have the gumption to argue with her. No offense, but visiting you wasn’t even on my radar.”

He chuckled. “Should I be insulted?”

She softened her voice. “You made a point of keeping away from the entire family after Janie...”

He winced at her honesty. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so blunt. “It’s not for the reasons you think.”

“I know why you did it, Zane.”

He put his head down. “I was having a hard time.”

“I know.” He’d been swallowed up with guilt. Janie was five months pregnant when she lost her life. Zane was touring in London, and Janie wanted desperately to travel with him. Zane had given her a flat-out no. He didn’t want her away from her doctors, on a whirlwind schedule that would sap her energy. They’d argued until Zane had gotten his way. He’d loved Janie so much, trying to protect her and keep her safe. It was a tragic irony that she’d died in her own home on the night Zane had performed for Prince Charles and the royal family. Momentary grief swept over his features. He’d probably feel the guilt of his decision until his dying day. But there was no one to blame. No one could’ve known that Janie would’ve been safer in London than resting in her own sprawling, comfortable ranch house while Zane was gone. Her mother had recognized that. Jessica recognized that, but Zane wouldn’t let himself off the hook.

Braced by the crutches under his arms, Zane let go of one handle and took her right hand. Lacing their fingers, he applied slight pressure there, squeezing her hand as they stared at the ocean. “I’m glad you’re here, Jess.”

Peace and pain mingled together, a bittersweet and odd combination of emotions that she was certain Zane was experiencing, too. They’d both lost so much and shared a profound connection.

Afternoon winds blew her hair onto her cheek and Zane touched her face, removing the wayward strands, tucking them behind her ear. “It’s good to have someone who understands,” he whispered.

She nodded.

“You can trust me,” he said.

“I do.” Strangely, she did trust Zane. He wasn’t a threat to her, not the way every other man in the universe might be. She had learned some harsh lessons about men and about herself. She’d never overlook the obvious the way she had with Steven. She’d never allow herself to be fooled into believing a relationship would work when there were three strikes against it from the get-go.

“This is nice,” she murmured.

“Mmm,” he replied.

Zane released her hand, and they fell into comfortable silence, watching wave upon wave hit the shore. After a minute, he turned her way. “Do you want to see the inside of the restaurant?”

Her gaze was drawn to the framed, unroofed, sandy-floored structure behind her. “I sure do!”

He laughed. “Follow me, if you can keep up.” He hobbled ahead of her. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

* * *

Zane folded his arms and leaned back in the booth of Amigos del Sol—friends of the sun—watching Jess pore over the menu items of his favorite off-the-beaten-path Mexican restaurant. It was a small hacienda-style place known for making the most delicious, fresh guacamole right at the table. “Everything is great here, but the tamales are out of this world.”

And the guacamole was on its way.

Jessica’s head was down, and her glasses dropped to the tip of her nose. With her index finger, she pushed them up to the bridge of her nose. He grinned. It was a habit of hers that he found adorable.

“Tamales it is. I will bow to your vast culinary taste. But I’m even more impressed at how you managed to sneak us in the back way and get this corner booth.”

“I shouldn’t give away my secrets, but while you were navigating turns and learning how to gun the engine on my car, I texted Mariah to call the owner and let him know we needed a quiet spot and we’d appreciate coming in through the back door.”

“Ah...Mariah. Your secret weapon.”

“She makes things happen.”

“I’ve noticed. She anticipates your every move and watches out for you.”

“Yeah, like a mother hen,” he said. “Not that I’m ungrateful. She’s like my second right arm.” He lifted his broken wrist. “And in my condition, that’s important.”

A uniformed waiter pushed a food cart to their table. Zane practically salivated. He’d been craving the homemade guacamole since earlier in the day. The waiter set out a molcajete and tejolote, a mortar and pestle carved from volcanic rock, to begin preparations. Squeezing lime juice into the bowl first, he added cilantro, bits of tomato, garlic and other spices. Next he used the pestle to grind all the flavors together and scooped out three perfectly ripe avocados. The aroma of the blended spices and avocados flavored the air. Once done, the guacamole and warm tortilla chips were placed on the table.

After the waiter took their dinner order, he walked off with his cart. Zane grabbed a tortilla chip and dipped it into the fresh green mixture, offering it to Jess first. “Taste this and tell me it’s not heaven.”

She leaned in close enough for him to place the chip into her mouth. As she chewed, a beautiful smile emerged, and her eyes closed. She sighed. “Oh, this is so good.”

Drawn to the sublime expression on her face, he forgot about his craving for a few seconds. Eyeing her reaction distracted him in ways that might’ve been worrisome, if it hadn’t been Jess. As soon as she finished chewing, she snapped her eyes open. “You didn’t have one yet?”

“No...it was too much fun watching you.”

“I seem to be a source of your amusement lately.”

That much was true. Jess being here brightened up his solemn mood. That wasn’t a bad thing, was it? He dipped a chip in and came up with a large chunk of guacamole. He shoved it into his mouth and chewed. On a swallow, he said. “Oh, man. That’s good.”

Jess’s eyes darted past him, focusing on something happening behind his back.

“Uh...oh. Don’t turn around, Zane,” she whispered.

As soon as her words were out, two twentysomething girls approached the table, giddy and bumping shoulders with each other. “Hello. Excuse me,” one of them said. “But we’re big fans of yours.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Would you mind signing a napkin for us?”

He glanced at Jessica and she nodded.

“Sure will.”

They produced two white napkins and a pen, which made things a little less awkward. Zane hated waiting around while fans scrambled for something for him to autograph. They gave him their names, and he signed the napkins and handed them back.

“Thank you. Thank you. You’re our favorite country singer. I just can’t believe we’ve met you. Your last ballad was amazing. You have the best voice. I saw you in concert five years ago, when I was living in Abilene with my folks.”

Zane kept a smile on his face. The girls were clueless that they were interrupting his meal with Jessica. “Well, that’s nice to hear.”

They stared at him, hovering close.

Jessica stood up then. Bracing her hands on the table, she smiled at the girls. “Hello. I’m Jessica, Zane’s sister-in-law.” The girls seemed baffled when she shook both of their hands. “We were having a little family talk, and we’re limited on time. Otherwise I’m sure Zane would love to speak to you. If you give me your names and addresses, I’ll see that you get a signed CD of his latest album. And please be discreet when you leave here,” she whispered. “Zane loves meeting his fans, but we really need a few private moments during our meal tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Sure,” one of them said congenially.

The other girl wrote their addresses on the napkin Jessica provided before she wished them well. Giggling quietly, the two women walked away.

Zane stared at Jessica. “I’m impressed.”

“I’ve been listening to how Mariah deals with your fan club members. I hope it’s okay that I offered them a CD.”

“It’s fine. Happens all the time. I wish I’d have thought of it myself.”

“They were persistent.”

Zane shook his head. “I could tell you stories.” But he wouldn’t. Some of the things that had happened to him while touring on the road weren’t worth repeating. “Actually, these two were a little subtle compared with some of the people who approach me.”

“You mean, compared with the women who approach you.”

He scrubbed his chin, his fingers brushing over prickly stubble. “I suppose.”

Jessica snorted. “You don’t have to be modest on my account. I know you’re in demand.”

He tossed his head back and laughed. “In demand? What are you getting at?”

“You’re single, available, successful and handsome. Those two women who left here would probably describe you as a hottie, a hunk, a heartthrob and a hero. You’re in the 4-H club of men.”

His smile broadened. “The 4-H club of men? You just made that up.”

“Maybe,” she said, taking a big scoop of guacamole and downing the chip in one big swallow. “Maybe not.”

“You constantly surprise me,” he said, sipping water. He could use something stronger. “I like that about you.”

“And I like that you’re decent to folks who admire you.”

Their eyes met, and something warm zipped through his gut. Jessica’s compliments meant more to him than ten thousand wide-eyed, giddy fans. He admired her, too. “Ah, shucks, ma’am. Now you’re gonna make me blush.”

Another unladylike snort escaped through her mouth. Zane grinned and leaned way back in his seat just as his cell phone rang. Dang, he didn’t want to speak to anyone now, but only a few close friends and family knew his number. He fished the phone out of his pocket. “It’s Mariah,” he said to Jessica. He turned his wrist to glance at his watch. It was after eight. “That’s odd. She usually texts me if she needs me for something after hours. Excuse me a second.”

“Hi,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Zane, s-something terrible’s h-happened.” Sobs came through the phone, Mariah’s voice frantic and unsteady. Zane froze, those words instilling fear and flashing a bad memory. “My mother had a stroke. It’s pretty b-bad.”

“Oh, man. Sorry to hear that, Mariah.”

“I have to fly home right away. Th-they don’t know...oh, Zane...she’s so young. Only sixty-four. She never had health problems before. Oh, God.”

“Mariah, you just do what you have to do. Don’t worry about a thing.” Her voice broke down, her sobs growing louder. “Where are you?”

“At Patty’s h-house in Santa Monica.” She shared a place temporarily with an old college roommate. The situation was perfect while he was staying on Moonlight Beach. She was close by without living under his roof.

“Pack up a few things and try to stay calm. Do you have a flight?”

“Patty got me on a midnight flight to Miami.”

“Okay...I’ll send a car for you in an hour. Hang in there, Mariah.”

“It’s okay, Zane. I a-appreciate it, but Patty offered to d-drive me. I’ll be fine.” A deep, sorrowful sigh whispered through the phone. “Are you going to be all right? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He stared at Jessica. Her eyes were softly sympathetic and kind. “Take all the time you need. And call if there’s any way I can help, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks. Goodbye, Zane.”

Zane hung up the phone. “Man, that’s rough. Mariah’s mother had a stroke. She’s on her way to Florida now.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it serious?”

“Seems that way.” He ran a hand down his face, pulling the skin taut. “I’ve never heard her so unraveled before. She may be gone a long time.”

“I would think so. Will you find a replacement for her?”

Zane wasn’t thinking along those lines. Not yet. He kept hearing the disbelief and pain in Mariah’s voice and understood it all too well.

Your wife didn’t make it, Zane.

Didn’t make what? he’d asked the doctor over and over, screaming into the phone. Then, all the way home from London, he kept thinking, hoping, praying it had been a mistake. A horrible, sick mistake. It wasn’t until he saw the desolate ruins of his once proud home in Beckon that it finally sank in Janie was gone. Forever.

The meal was served, and as his gaze landed on the plate of saucy cheese-topped tamales, blood drained from his face, and his gut rebelled. For Jessica’s sake, he pushed his haunting memories aside. He didn’t want to ruin her meal.

Jessica reached for him across the table, her fingertips feathering over his good hand gently, comforting him with the slightest touch. When he lifted his lids, he gazed into her knowing, sensitive eyes, and she smiled. “Let’s have them pack up this food. We’ll eat it later on.”

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“Not at all. I’m ready to go anytime you are.”

He felt at peace suddenly, a glowing warmth usurping the dread inside his gut.

And then it hit him. Sweet Jess. She was good for him. She understood him, perhaps better than anyone else on this earth. She was a true friend, an authentic reminder of home, and he needed her here.

“You asked me before if I’d find a replacement for Mariah.”

“Yes, I did. Hard shoes to fill, I would imagine.”

“Yeah, I agree.” He looked her squarely in the eyes. “Except I’ve already found someone, and I’m looking straight at her.”