Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“Nothing is ever your fault,” the skeleton said affectionately, pinching one of her cheeks between its bony fingers. “Give my love to your mother.”
Destiny pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss the jutting white cheekbone then turned back to me, hesitated. I was between her and the door. I had a feeling that if it had just been the two of us, she’d have told me to get out of her way. As the skeleton was watching, she tried to disguise her irritation. She put on a fake smile. “So good to see you again.”
“Always a pleasure.” A throwaway, desultory line I’d said a thousand times, except that this time it was the truth. Destiny’s eyes flickered, recognizing it. Denying it.
“Give my love to Noemi,” she said, a warning in the emphasis.
A warning I chose to ignore. I spread my arms, and she stepped into them after a brief hesitation. I hadn’t touched her since the night of the premiere. Touching her now was like sucking in oxygen through a straw. I wanted to take great, greedy gulps, but I only got a thin, reedy supply. Enough to keep going, but not nearly enough to satisfy me.
“Whatever you do,” I said, pitching my voice low so that only she could hear, “don’t give my love to Andrew.”
14
DESTINY
I’d never been so happy to go to work in my life, including the day I started Magical Melody. Stepping onto Director Pearlman’s set was like going through the back of a wardrobe into a magical world. It was so big, so majestic and overwhelming, that I felt like a brand-new person with brand-new thoughts.
I recognized the shift–from Destiny to Character, but I’d never felt such relief in the transition. I was finally free of the tormenting tilt-a-whirl of my thoughts about Garrett and Andrew and Noemi and Jasmine and Geoffrey. They didn’t exist anymore. I was someone else.
But at the end of the workday, as I drove off the lot, it all came back.
Andrew was away, filming, but he called every other day. I thought that both of us were tentatively feeling out the other. He didn’t want to push. I didn’t want to pull. But the possibility hung in the air between us. A sweet, aching possibility that I wished I could be excited about. But instead, all I could think about was the consuming unsettling attraction I couldn’t deny I felt for Garrett.
The attraction I couldn’t act on for a myriad of reasons.
Noemi showed up on set one day, and I felt the jarring collision of my two realities. I was in craft services, trying to pick between two different kinds of chips, when she appeared at my side.
“Hi! What are you doing here?” I asked, leaning into her one-armed hug. I had a plate in one hand and a soda in the other, making it hard to hug back.
“I’m shooting on the lot next door.” She picked out an apple and nodded her head toward the seating area. “And I wanted to check in on you.”
I’d always imbued Noemi with near-mystical powers of perception. It was packaged in with the hero worship I’d had for her ever since I was a kid and she became my big sister for a few months. Even though, logically, I knew that she wasn’t psychic, my heart still skipped a few beats as I followed her to a table that was set away from the others. She couldn’t know about the kiss with Garrett, I told myself. Unless he had told her, and there was no way–
“You’ve been returning my calls with one-word texts,” she said when we sat down.
“I know, I’m sorry.” I didn’t insult her by telling her how busy I’d been. Noemi was one of the most in-demand actresses in town, and she was planning a covert wedding. Still, she’d made time to track me down.
“It’s okay. I just don’t want to fall out of touch again.” Noemi covered my hand with both of hers. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
Even under normal circumstances, I tried not to go crying to Noemi. I never wanted to be one of those people who tried to use her power to leverage themselves. But this problem was especially off limits. I hated lying to her, but I put on my most convincing smile, turned my hand palm up to squeeze hers, and said, “Of course.”
Noemi’s famous green eyes searched mine. She sensed that I was hiding something, but she couldn’t get a grip on what it might be. There was nothing she could fish out and hold up as proof I wasn’t being honest. “And you know I love you, right? No matter what.”
Again, I wondered if she knew. But Noemi was too direct to beat around the bush. She knew there was something to know, but she didn’t know what it was. If anything, she was wondering if there was more to the yacht girl scandal than I had let on. For a second, I entertained the thought of telling her exactly what was going on. Surely it couldn’t be worse than her wondering if maybe I’d dabbled in a little light prostitution.