It was quickly arranged, yet I never spoke to him. All I was told by his agent was to meet Jamie at the end of Bay Street in Santa Monica, where it met the Ocean Front Walk. When we finally met, on a late afternoon in December of 2010, I was early, and sat on a bench while scrolling through my Twitter feed, my hands shaking. I heard his footsteps coming from behind me, his shoes hitting the pavement as he walked down the slope. I remembered his long stride, even the sound of it. I couldn’t turn around.
I looked out at the ocean and at the Santa Monica Pier as Jamie quietly sat down next to me and placed a cup of coffee on the bench between us. I looked down at it, yet not at him, and reached for the coffee.
I thought it would be so much more difficult to see him aga...
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