Alec Walker came into the story and into my life one rainy afternoon by accident when our carts collided mid-aisle at Vons. I was mentally going over the next day’s lines for a romantic comedy shooting at Universal—a smaller part than I was used to but in a big-budget film.
Attempting to steer a shopping cart with a will of it’s own down the fresh meat and poultry aisle, I crashed right into him.
I apologized.
“That’s okay,” he said. “I do it all the time.”
He had one of those faces you were sure you’d seen at a party or glimpsed at a premiere. Tall and thin. Dazzling white teeth, creamy skin, dark black hair flecked with gray, and penetrating hazel eyes that seemed to drink in my body from head to toe.
In one big gulp.
He kept staring at me. “Wait, I know you.”
I thought about some
