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“I can’t believe I’m sitting here on this stupid red bus taking a tour of the “Homes of the Stars” while someone I once dated drives the big ugly thing.” I said into the phone hoping that no one sitting close to me would over hear.
“Oh Ginger, after you get home, you’re going to have to sit with me and explain the method of madness you use when you choose the guys you date.” Brent laughed at me.
“Stop making fun of me! This is just horrible. I want to get off of this stupid bus, but this whole experience is just so bad that I’m scared to move.” I cringed as I looked around me at all the tourists taking pictures of what was supposed to be Mel Gibson’s house.
“Do you think he recognized you?”
“Oh God, I hope not. I thought all the wanna be actors out here were waiters. What’s he doing driving a bus full of tourist?”
“That’s a question you are going to have to ask him. Make sure you let me know the answer because my blog readers are dying to know and so am I.”
“Brent, this really isn’t a good time to get me started on that stupid blog of yours!”
“Don’t call my blog stupid! You wouldn’t have found this guy if he hadn’t found my blog.” Brent laughed.
“Oh, I’m going to be sick! I am sitting here on a bus that’s being driven by my blog reading ex-boyfriend surrounded by Hawaiian shirt, visor wearing tourists. Can we just call this guy a loser and move on to the next one?” I pleaded.
“No! You have to get his story. I mean what if he’s not just the driver? What if he owns the company, but drives the bus to keep in touch with his clients? What if he’s rich, I mean like really, really rich and he wants you?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed loudly, “Brent, remind me again why it is that we’re friends.”
Brent laughed. “We’re friends because I’m just as crazy as you are. Now, be safe. Don’t go to his house or anything like that until you figure out how crazy he is, okay?”
“I’ll be safe. I’ve got a fresh can of pepper spray in my purse. Brent, I’ll call you back after I talk to him and get his story.” I hung up the phone and looked toward the front of the bus where Jeremy sat in the drivers seat, wondering if he could possibly be rich and if he could possibly want me.