Coffee shop in Los Feliz. Hipster place with good espresso and terrible Wi-Fi.
Katie's already there. Jeans and a t-shirt. No makeup. Still gorgeous.
"You look different," I say, sitting down.
"Without the premiere hair and dress?"
"More real."
"I am more real. That version's for caras."
We order. She gets an Aricano. I get drip coffee because I'm predictable.
"So," she starts. "Comic shops. How does that happen?"
"You want the real story or the dinner party version?"
"Real story."
"I was a failing artist. Opened a shop as a Hail Mary. Got lucky with so inventory choices. Built from there."
"That's the abbreviated version."
"The full version takes longer."
"I've got ti."
So I tell her. The edited version. Opening day disaster with too many Iron Fist comics. The Walking Dead gamble. Expanding to Burbank. Wil Wheaton's investnt. Third shop coming.
I leave out: supernatural powers, transmigration, Bitcoin millions, perfect mory of future events.
She's listening intently. Asking smart questions.
"What made you go into comics specifically?"
"It's what I loved. Seed stupid not to try."
"Most people don't try."
"Most people are smarter than ."
"Or more scared."
"Maybe."
She takes a sip. Sets down her cup carefully.
"Can I be honest about sothing?"
"Please."
"I'm done dating actors. And industry guys. And anyone trying to break into Hollywood."
"Okay."
"It's all ego. Competition. Everyone's got an angle. Who knows who. Who can help their career. It's exhausting."
"So why are you in it?"
"Because I love acting. The actual work. Being soone else. Living in stories. But the industry part—" She makes a face. "—is awful."
"And I'm—what? Not industry?"
"You're adjacent. You consult. But you're not trying to be famous. You built sothing real. Two shops. About to be three. That's actual success, not Hollywood success."
"There's a difference?"
"Huge difference. Hollywood success is smoke. Real success is—" She gestures at . "—you. Building businesses. Actually creating sothing."
"I'm flattered. I think."
"You should be. I don't give this speech to everyone."
"How many people get the speech?"
"You're number one."
"Also flattered."
She's smiling. "So. Your turn. What's your situation? Dating? Recently broken up? Complicated?"
"Recently out of a relationship. Ended in January. We're friends now."
"That's mature."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true. Most people can't do friends with exes."
"It helped that timing killed us, not drama."
"Timing?"
"She got cast in New York. Six months turned into a year. We both knew long distance wouldn't work."
"And you're—okay? Actually okay?"
"Actually okay. Took a couple months. But yeah."
"Good." She leans forward. "Because I'm interested. In seeing where this goes. But I don't do rebounds or emotional baggage situations."
"Fair."
"So if you're not ready—"
"I'm ready. Maybe not for serious imdiately. But ready to see what happens."
"Perfect. Sa page."
The barista's giving us looks. We've been here three hours.
"We should probably go," Katie says.
"Yeah."
Outside. The sun's setting. LA's doing its golden hour thing.
"This was good," she says.
"Better than good."
"Dinner Friday?"
"Friday works."
She kisses . Quick. Soft.
"See you Friday, comic shop guy."
She walks to her car.
I stand there like an idiot. Smiling.
Different from Penny.
Katie's ambitious. Career-focused. Los Angeles through and through.
Penny was Nebraska girl playing actress. Katie's actress who happens to be genuine.
Different.
But good different.
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