Within a week she no longer gave much thought to being seen with him in public, except perhaps to note with a little satisfaction the looks of envy that she occasionally got from other women. Being with him felt so natural, so easy, that it seemed silly that she had been so concerned about what people thought.

Now they were at the farmer’s market. Chris carried her reusable shopping bag, which was filled with organic produce, displaying no self-consciousness about the fact that it was covered in a pattern of bright pink flowers.

“You sure that’s not too heavy?” she asked. “I have another bag, we could split it up.”

“You’re impugning my manhood, woman,” he growled at her. “I pay a top Hollywood fitness trainer good money so I can carry your vegetables for you.”

“Well, as long as you’ve got your priorities straight,” she said agreeably. “Want to go get some coffee at Riverfront?”

“I want to get some of that amazing ice-cream they sell.”

Joy glanced at her watch. “It’s barely 10 am! How can you want dessert at this hour?”

He looked at her as if she were crazy. “How can you not?”

“What would your snazzy fitness trainer say?” she teased him.

He looked thoughtful. “He’d say ... nothing, ’cos he’s not here. C’mon.” He began to pull her toward Riverfront.

She laughed and let him pull her along, steering her carefully through the crowds.

“You know, I should just move here,” he said suddenly.

“What, away from LA? What about your work?”

He shrugged. “I could commute. It’s practically what I’m doing now. Besides, isn’t that what movie stars are supposed to do, have houses all over the world?”

She looked at him skeptically. “Don’t movie stars usually have houses in places like Paris or Aspen? I mean, Silverweed’s nice, but it’s not all that interesting.”

“But that’s what I like about it,” he replied, dodging a woman with a double stroller. “It’s low-key, relaxed. I don’t have a trainer looking over my shoulder all the time. The air’s cleaner, the scenery is nicer.” He looked her up and down. “Of course, the scenery is always good where you are.”

“You charmer.” She squeezed his hand and let him open the door for her as they stepped across the threshold of the café.

“You want to grab a seat while I get us some ice-cream?” he asked.

“You can get yourself ice-cream, I’ll have my usual. Here, let me take the bag.”

Despite his protest, she pulled it off his arm and went to find a seat while he stood in line. To her delight, the table toward the back by the window where they’d sat the day he’d first come back to town was free, and she slipped into it, tucking the vegetables under it by her feet. The outdoor patio was open, but the little table suddenly felt nostalgic.

She took the opportunity to observe Chris as he stood in line, viewing him at a three-quarter angle. She felt like a school-girl with a crush, noting his broad shoulders, and long, muscular legs exposed by the khaki shorts he wore.

“Hey, it’s Chris McPherson!” said a voice.

Two boys about twelve years old walked up to him and said something, their faces shining with excitement. Chris smiled and answered back, shaking the kids’ hands and chatting with them for a moment. The boys walked away with enormous grins on their faces.

Joy knew she was smiling like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it. Chris was gorgeous, he was genuine and kind, and he was crazy about her. For the first time since she could remember, she felt worthy of her name. She no longer felt as if life were passing her by, but as if it were expanding, taking her in new, unexpected and exciting directions. Sure, it was too soon to tell what would happen with Chris, but for now it was enough that things were happening. He’d given her a glimpse into the way things could be, and life would never be the same.

He came back a few minutes later, iced espresso in one hand, an ice-cream cone in the other. He was like a kid himself in some ways.

“I’ve got it!” he said. “I’ll move up here and buy a vineyard. Go into the wine making business, like Francis Ford Copolla did. Maybe I could get Luke to go in on it with me.”

She gave him a look of frank skepticism.

“Somehow, I don’t think you’re taking me seriously,” he said, taking a lick of his ice-cream.

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you have ice-cream on your chin,” she said. He hastily grabbed a napkin and dabbed at his face. “You know how to make a small fortune in the wine business?” she asked.

“How?”

“Start with a large fortune.”

“Very funny.” He smirked. “I get your point, but you know what I’m talking about, don’t you? I mean, I want to keep acting, but I’ve got an opportunity to do more now. Expand my horizons ... be more than just a pretty face.”

“You are more than a pretty face. I keep telling you that. You’re a talented actor.” She took a sip of her coffee. “But if you truly want to be more, what about starting a foundation or something? You know, give back. Make a difference.”

He leaned back in his chair and nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve thought about doing something like that. What kind of cause do you think I should support?”

“Think about what’s important to you. What’s made a difference to you? What would you be proud to do for other people?”

He licked his ice cream and stared thoughtfully out the window at the river. “It really ought to be Riverback Café, shouldn’t it? Seeing as how the river is at the back.”

She rolled her eyes.

“All right, all right,” he said. “You know, what made a difference to me was having a mentor, at least for the year and a half that I studied with Victor. Someone who believed in me, didn’t give me any bullshit, gave me solid advice.” He was silent for a moment while Joy waited. “And you know, someone like that could have made a difference for my dad,” he said, his expression growing distant. “He spent a lot of time just trying to figure things out on his own, making mistakes. And he was trying to work full time to support a kid on top of trying to build a career in music.” He met her eyes. “I’d like to help people like that, people with talent and the ambition, but maybe not the knowledge or the resources that they need to go the distance.”

Joy was silent for a moment. “I love that,” she finally said, softly. “That’s a beautiful vision.”

He looked a little embarrassed. “Well, something like that. I wouldn’t even—” he broke off and looked at her. “But you would.”

“Would what?”

“You’d know where to start. I mean, you’re all about fundraising and dealing with foundations and stuff.”

“I’m actually on the other side. I get money from foundations.”

He shrugged. “Well, okay. You still know more about this stuff than I do. We’ll start a foundation. You can be in charge.”

She laughed. “That would probably be a conflict of interest with my job.”

“Not if you quit like you keep saying you want to. I’m serious. Think about it. I want to do some good in the world, and I trust you.”

He was serious, she realized. “Chris, there are a lot of variables here. We haven’t even been involved very long—”

“I’m not suggesting this because you’re my—girlfriend.” It was the first time he’d called her that. He hastened to cover up his moment of awkwardness by pretending it wasn’t awkward at all. “I think you’d do a good job. Look, we’ll wait until the play’s over before getting too much into it, but think it about, okay? I know it’s just an idea right now and it needs a lot of refining, but it’s something I want to make happen.”

She felt a glow of pleasure, but whether it was the idea of the foundation or the fact that he’d called her his girlfriend—or both—that made her happy, she couldn’t have said for sure.