"No," I laughed, shaking my head. "You're so far off base it's not even funny. I have no interest in dating an arrogant, spoiled celebrity that's probably an asshole and hooks up with a different woman every day of the week. Even if he would be interested in me, which I'm positive he wouldn't be, he would just break my heart and why would I want that?"

"Then what do you want?" he asked, looking at me with scrunched eyebrows.

"Nothing," I laughed. "That's the honest truth. Have you seriously never had anyone offer to help you out of the kindness of their heart, without some ulterior motive?"

Scott looked across the yard at the others and then he started to laugh and said, "Honestly? No. In Hollywood it's a dog eat dog world. Everyone has an agenda. Nothing is done for free without an expectation of something in return."

I stood there letting those words process in my head.

"Wow. That's really sad," I said softly, shaking my head. "Back home in Iowa people help each other out all the time without wanting something in return."

"Really?" he asked. "That's sweet."

"Yeah really," I nodded.

"Okay well if you really want to help, let's try filming this scene again but with a lot more excitement this time. What do you say?"

"Ok," I nodded. "I'll do my best but keep in mind, I'm a college student and a coffee barista, not an actress."

"Just give it your best shot," he said before calling out to everyone, "Let's go ahead and film this scene again from the top. Dylan go back inside and wait for her to knock. Brenley go back to the bottom of the stairs. Places people!" he shouted, clapping his hands together.

Why did I get the feeling like I was suddenly on one of those scripted reality shows that the viewers think are real? I watched the door close and then I took my place and waited. I tried to imagine how my friend Ellie would react in this situation and I channeled that.

Scott pointed at me and I walked towards the door and knocked three times. This time when Dylan opened the door I gasped and covered my mouth with wide eyes. I stood there, looking at him in shock for a minute, acting like I was unable to speak. I finally lowered my hands and said, "Wow," looking at him in awe.

He gave me a smile and took a step forward, holding his hand out and saying, "Hi. I'm Dylan."

I smiled at him shyly and shook his hand hesitantly, before covering my mouth again and letting out a little squeal, jumping up and down and squealing some more.

He laughed and gave me a flirty smile and said, "Sorry I didn't catch your name."

"Brenley. I'm Brenley. Sorry, I was freaking out so much I forgot to tell you."

He smiled again and said, "That's a pretty name. You want to come in and I'll give you a tour of my house?"

"Really?" I asked in awe with wide eyes. "You want to give ME a tour of YOUR house?" I squealed again and clapped my hands as I jumped up and down, before walking in after him. Okay, so I was laying it on pretty thick but hopefully it was believable.

Scott didn't stop us this time so I must've done okay. Him and the cameras followed us as Dylan gave me a tour. It was by far the biggest, fanciest house I had ever been in or even seen. He had a garage the size of an airport hangar full of exotic cars and his heated pool was so big it looked like a football field and I couldn't help but feel sorry for his pool guy that had to keep that thing clean. I've seen stars on TV that had an indoor basketball court and movie theater and bowling alley before but this guy literally had all that PLUS an indoor hockey rink in his house. Who does that?

"So what do you think of my house?" he asked, proudly when he was done with the tour and the cameras had finally left us alone.

"It's really nice," I said, hesitating as I looked down at the floor and rubbed the back of my neck. "It's just."

"What?" he asked.

"Well," I said with an exhale. "It just seems like such a waste to have a house this gigantic and all these crazy expensive exotic cars when there are so many people in the world struggling. Doesn't it make you feel guilty to have so much when there are so many in need?"

He looked down at me with his bright green eyes and raised a hand and ran it through the shaggy sandy blonde hair that covered his forehead.

"Why should I feel guilty about being successful?" he asked defensively. "I struggled for most of my life and I worked REALLY fucking hard to get where I'm at. I earned every bit of it. No one gave this to me. I came from a really poor family and I moved to L.A. straight out of high school with only $1,000 to my name to chase my dream of being in movies or getting a record deal. For a while I was living out of my car, using public bathrooms to shower and shave and brush my teeth and laundry mats to wash my clothes so I'd look good for the hundreds of auditions I got turned down for over and over. When I wasn't auditioning I was busking out on the streets of Hollywood for hours every day with my guitar, playing the songs I wrote for peoples' spare pocket change. I posted hundreds of singing videos to Youtube for years hoping by some miracle a record exec would see it and I'd get signed to a label. I finally got my big break and then the movie lost it's funding so I had to start all over, back at square one. I had thought I finally made it so I was crushed and I thought about giving up and moving back home but I didn't. I stayed and kept fighting and that's why I have all of this."

I was suddenly hit with guilt for what I had said to him.

"Plus I've given so much money to so many charities it's not even funny. The little town I'm from in Minnesota is poor and there's not a lot of opportunity for kids from there. I've helped over 200 kids from my hometown with scholarships so they'll be able to go to college and I bought my parents and some of my relatives houses. Plus, I give money to the children's hospital and cancer research and several other charities."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like I was judging you. I'm just not used to all of this. It's so different from the lifestyle I'm used to. It's kind of a shock."

"It's alright," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he led the way across the backyard in silence over to the guest house that was overlooking the huge lit up pool.

The guest house was completely separate from the main house and he flicked the light on and I saw a large white wrap around sofa in front of a huge stone fireplace and a 70' flat screen TV hanging on the wall. It was dark now and the faint outline of the ocean below could be seen from the huge wall of glass windows in the living room. Behind the sofa was an ultra modern kitchen with an exotic stone countertop and shiny black cabinets. It looked like the kind of house you only see in magazines.

"This is where you'll be staying this week," he said. "I don't think I need to give you a tour. You can walk around and see it for yourself. If you need something I'll probably be busy so just call Rita. She's your concierge for the week. Here's her number," he said, pulling out a little business card from his pocket.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked, sounding mildly irritated.

"No," I said quietly, looking down at Rita's business card. "I think I'm good."

"Good," he said turning around and heading out the door, closing it behind him.

It was pretty obvious I had insulted and offended him with what I said earlier. I had a bad habit of not having a filter and it got me in trouble sometimes. After the door closed I stood there and looked around, not believing I was really here.

I got out my phone and did a group Facetime call with my Dad, Ellie and Dave.

"Hey guys!" I said with a smile, waving at the phone.

"Hey," they all said back.

"Well I wanted to give you guys an update because I got to meet Dylan Chase."

"What's he like?" Ellie asked with way too much excitement in her voice.

"Ummmm. He gave me a tour of his house. He seems alright."

"Alright?" Ellie asked with a laugh. "Brenley Jensen. There are a lot of things in this world that are just alright but Dylan Chase is most definitely not one of them."

"Yeah well. I don't feed into all the celebrity hype like you do. I think I might've actually made him mad by being a little too honest about my opinions."

Ellie smacked her forehead and groaned. "Please tell me you didn't."

"Well I could tell you that but I'd be lying," I said.

Her brother Spencer popped his head into Ellie's screen and said, "You've just met him today Bren and he already hates you. Wow. Only you," he laughed and Ellie pushed him back out of the way.

"So what do you think of L.A.? Are you having fun?" my Dad asked, trying to sound positive but looking worried.

"Yeah I'm having fun Dad. Flying in a plane and looking out the window and seeing everything look so small down below was crazy. The airport in L.A. was humongous and the traffic. Don't even get me started on the traffic here. But oh my gosh. You guys have got to see Dylan's house. He has his own ice skating rink, basketball court, movie theater, bowling alley and a swimming pool the size of a dag gone football field and like five Lamborghinis. It's crazy."

"Well take lots of pictures pumpkin and try to be nicer to Dylan. Remember you're a guest in his house. It's really nice of him to open his house up to a stranger like that," Dad said.

"It's not my fault you taught me to always speak my mind but I promise, for this week only, I'll try to bite my tongue."

"Good. Now go have some fun and stop being so uptight. Loosen up and live a little," Dad said with a smile. "Maybe you can learn to love travelling as much as your Mom and I used to. She would be so happy to see you on this trip."

I could see Dad's eyes starting to water as he sniffled at the memory.

"I'll try to loosen up and have fun, but for now I'm getting ready for bed. I'm exhausted. I'll talk to you guys again soon. Love you!"

"Love you! Keep us updated!" Ellie called out blowing a kiss and they all waved before my screen went dark.

I looked around the guest house and saw a staircase, leading upstairs, so I went up it and there was a bedroom with the biggest bed I had ever seen and a row of floor to ceiling glass windows facing the ocean with french doors that opened to a balcony. I opened the doors and walked out there, feeling the warm breeze on my face, hearing the crashing ocean waves below me. I took a seat out there and just sat for a while, enjoying the view and how peaceful it was, seeing a few people walking on the beach below.

There was a couple walking hand in hand and they stopped to hug and kiss each other for a bit and I let out an exhale, thinking in my mind, 'That must be nice to be with someone and be that happy. After I get the house I'm saving up for I'm going to make it a priority to find a boyfriend and fall in love.'

There were quite a few guys at my college that were handsome, smart and sweet. I just had to get up the courage to actually talk to one of them.

That was my pattern. I'd have a crush on a guy and watch them from afar, admiring how perfect and wonderful they were but never have the guts to do anything about it. That's why I had been single for the past four years. Guys would hit on me from time to time, but never the ones I wanted to.

That's why I had decided that once I got my house and wasn't working so many hours I was finally going to put myself out there and get up the courage to go after a guy I actually wanted and tell him I'm interested. Maybe I would get lucky and by some miracle he'd be interested too.