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“People tell me I look a lot like Julia Roberts. She’s the female lead. So, I think I have a good chance to get it. I heard you’re a photographer and since you’re right next door, I just thought…”
    “ You’d do this just to be able to rub bellies with Brad Pitt on a movie set?”
    She looked at me as if she thought every woman would. “Well, yeah.”
    “ You know there will be about twenty-five other people standing around watching, don’t you?”
    She flipped a thread of hair off her face and stretched her right arm over the back of the love seat. “That’s okay.”
    What is it with young people these days? They don’t have time to do groundwork, build a foundation, or climb anything. They want to jump right into a world of fame, fortune, and adventure and don’t mind mortgaging their morals to get it. That’s nothing, the way they see it.
    Thunder rumbled in the distance. I stood and lifted my glass. “Look, I don’t mean to throw cold water on your dreams. Anything’s possible. Why don’t we go take a look at your fuse box? Would you like some wine to take with you?” I waited for her to respond. When she didn’t, I moved into the kitchen, pulled another bottle of scotch from a cabinet, and cracked the seal.
    “ You don’t think I’d get the part do you?” she said. I could tell her feelings were hurt, but I refilled my glass and drank from it without answering. “Seriously, you don’t think I’d get it, do you?”
    I turned to face her. “Well, how would I know, Ashleigh? I don’t know you. I don’t know them. I don’t even know what the movie’s about.”
    “ You’re a man, aren’t you? You’re about his age aren’t you?” Lightning lit the room.
    “ Brad Pitt?” I sighed. “He’s  a little older, I think.” As I took a gulp, she stood and began unbuttoning her shirt while I choked back the scotch.
    “ Wh-o-o-o-a! Hey! Hold on there. Wait just a minute.”
    She ignored me, jerked the shirttail out of her jeans, and worked the rest of the buttons free.

 
     
    5
     
     
    “ S TOP!” I SHOUTED. Ashleigh looked up, her hands frozen on the last button. “I’m sorry, Ashleigh,” I said. “Call me drunk. Call me stupid. Call me whatever you want. I’m as red-blooded as any male and you’re the best looking woman I’ve had in this house ever! But you just don’t need to be doing that. Please, just call the studio in the morning and make an appointment.” Her gaze remained locked on me even as another heavy branch fell on the deck. Her shirt lay open exposing her bra. It was tempting. God, was it tempting! I turned away. “Please, Ashleigh.” The telephone rang and broke the impasse. I reached for it immediately. “Hello?”
    It was Mom. “Richie, can you run over and help your dad move Martha’s bed?”
    I closed my eyes and drew a slow breath. “Move it where, Mom?”
    “ Is something wrong?”
    “ No, nothing’s wrong. Move it where?”
    “ Just turn it so she can see the street out the window.”
    “ Okay. Sure. I’ll stop by in the morning on my way to work.”
    “ Thank you, Baby.”
    “ You’re welcome, Mom.”
    “ Did you get something to eat?”
    Thunder rattled the house. “I’ve got to go, Mom.”
    She paused. “Is something wrong, Richie?”
    “ No. I’ll call you later.”
    There was a short pause. “Is someone there?”
    “ See you in the morning, Mom. Bye-bye.”
    I set the phone back on its cradle and looked up at Ashleigh. She reminded me of the way my dad often looked at me. Arrogant and pompous. I spoke gently. “Think about what you’re doing, Ashleigh. You’re extremely beautiful, sexy as hell, and certainly don’t need me to tell you that.” She remained motionless. “Just call the studio tomorrow. Okay?”
    She flipped her hair back, exhaled sharply, and began fastening the buttons. “Yeah, sure.”
    “ And we’ll go see what we can do about your lights.” I tossed down the rest of my drink, found a pad of