The ring is beautiful, beyond what I could have imagined, but the thought of sliding it onto my finger makes this too real. And I know, deep down, I don’t deserve to wear such extravagant jewelry. It’s fit for someone better matched for a guy like Garrick, and that isn’t me.
The thought was sweet. I’m sure in a matter of hours when the world sees the latest Hollywood gossip, that ring will be more of a required accessory to cement the news rather than a kind sentiment to mark our situation. It’s necessary for the arrangement. That’s all.
He hasn’t brought up his text from the day before, so I haven’t either. And neither of us has said a thing about the kiss, even though I’ve thought about it constantly. I think of it most at night, when I crawl under the blankets and remember his mouth on mine, his scent engulfing me, then his suggestive promise over text. But not even the self-induced orgasm has eased any of the tension building from what’s to come.
Balling up my hand, I walk away from the window and change for the day. By the time I leave my room, it’s nearly nine in the morning and I know the latest edition of the L.A. Free Press is live. If my phone were on, I’d get a news alert, probably a text or two from Moffie, and maybe even something from my parents congratulating me on another article written. They don’t always approve of the content, and they certainly won’t approve of this one, but seeing my name online still makes them excited for me. Especially Dad, who’s been my biggest supporter since I told him I was leaving for California.
“If anyone can make it out there, it’s you, kiddo,” he’d said during the dinner I announced my big news. He’d hugged me, then Mom did, and as much as she tried to smile, her glassy brown eyes told me she was having trouble supporting me knowing I’d be so far from her.
We wouldn’t be able to get our nails done together and then gorge out on something unhealthy or spend too much money at movie theaters for films that didn’t live up to the hype. I know she’s been worried about my health since the day I told them I was moving away, but regardless of her concerns, it never stopped her from wanting what was best for me.
If I have to live my life with a chronic condition, I might as well live it to the fullest doing what I want. That means moving, struggling, and figuring out how to make it work. Pain and all. I may not be proud of what I’ve done to get by, but I am proud of never giving up despite the obstacles against me.
I smile at the thought as I walk downstairs, knowing I still have a little time before my normalcy fades into the oblivion of national news. This is bigger than California because Garrick has been a name in the industry for years. Stories of women always surround him, including polls and predictions of who has the kind of power to make him settle. A listers, B listers, up-and-coming stars are always on the list. Singers, actresses, models. Never someone like me, and I know the second my name is posted people are going to drag it through the mud.
You’re stronger than you think, Garrick had told me.
I guess we’ll see soon enough.
My stomach grumbles when I smell the bacon before hearing it sizzle the closer I get to the kitchen, and I’m about to greet the man in front of the frying pan when I stop dead in my tracks at the older, female version of Garrick standing there instead.
Chase is at the counter, a bowl of cereal in front of him looking amused as he sees me halt at the doorway.
Turning with one hand on her hip, the slender woman with blonde hair at the stove says, “So you must be my daughter-in-law.”
I swallow air, wide-eyed as I hear the faintest snort from Chase. His mother walks up behind him, smacks him upside the back of the head, and gestures toward his cereal. “Eat your damn Captain Crunch and stay out of this, Chase Leroy Matthews.” Even from here, I can see the faintest pink settle on his cheeks.
The woman who’s clearly been here for a while based on the pancakes, eggs, and other assortment of food on the counter is looking at me again, her pretty face unreadable as she eyes me up and down. I’m in a pair of flare jeans that have damaged, stained hems from the amount of wear they get, and a faded long sleeve shirt that used to look more red than the pink it is now.
“Um…” My eyes dance over her facial features, ones that I can instantly see she passed down to Garrick, before looking to Chase. But his eyes are focused solely on the cereal that he’s shoveling into his mouth, which means he’ll be no help to me here. So, I force out, “Hello, Mrs. Matthews.”
Another muffled noise from the youngest person in the room has his mother rolling her eyes at him before turning to me. “You can call me Elaine, Rylee. We’re family now, after all.” The reluctant comment has her eyes raking over me again, her lips twisting in contemplation. “I must say, you’re not what I was expecting when Garrick told me the news. Quite suddenly, I might add.”
I blush, keeping my eyes on the floor knowing she probably would have pictured someone famous standing in front of her and sharing her family name and not some small-town girl from New York with barely a penny to her name.
“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” she says as if she’s reading my thoughts. “Heaven knows my boy doesn’t need a bad influence in his life long-term to help
