AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Really? You think so?” I was highly flattered. The way Gram talked about acting, in reverent loving tones, I could tell it was a sacred thing to her. That she thought I was worthy was everything to me.
“Oh yes. You have a face that doesn’t come along often. Once in a generation, if that. So expressive but so lovely.”
I eyed her doubtfully. I didn’t spend a ton of time looking in the mirror, and the only family I had was my grandma (and to say she was homely was putting it kindly), so I’d never had any reason to think I might be pretty, let alone beautiful. If I had to come up with one word to describe my looks, I’d have picked wild, or messy.
She smiled at me, then sent a meaningful look toward Dante, who’d taken to lying down and listening to us again. “You don’t believe me, but you will. You don’t favor your grandmother, obviously, but your mother was a stunning girl. Breathtaking. Like you. But if you really have your doubts, if somehow you don’t see your beauty when you look in the mirror, just try to notice how other people react to you, how they stare. Don’t you ever wonder why they stare?”
“Because I’m the trashcan girl,” I said simply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dante shoot up again, and I knew I’d agitated him. He hated when anyone called me that. Even me.
“No, my dear. The people who call you that are being cruel and jealous. It says more about them than you, and it’s much easier to hate someone that they envy.”
I was still more than a little skeptical, but she shrugged and went on. “And you’d enjoy the escape of stepping into someone else’s shoes, I’ll bet. Life hasn’t been easy on you, but when you act, you can live any life you want. There’s nothing like it. Please at least consider giving it a try. If for no other reason than to humor me, okay?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’ll definitely try it, Gram. I’ll give it my best. For you.”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
"Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell."
~Joan Crawford
PRESENT
I took my shaking self to the bathroom the instant Dante had left my room. I gripped the counter and told myself to breathe, my trembling limbs barely holding me up.
I told myself that the shaking was relief at his absence.
When it passed, I went into the living room. I smiled in spite of myself when I caught sight of the mystery man.
Ah. Anton. I should’ve guessed.
“Hopefully Demi didn’t get you punched in the moneymaker with her little stunt back there,” I said in greeting.
The tall man that lounged comfortably on our oversized sectional rose at my entrance, his rueful grin a familiar, endearing sight. “It was a close thing, I think, but despite her best efforts, I seem to be unharmed.
I hugged him briefly, air-kissing both of his cheeks while he bent down far enough to real-kiss mine.
“So that was the guy, huh?” he said, his trained actor’s voice steady, his knowing eyes something else.
I shrugged dismally. I hated to give Dante that much credit, whether he’d earned it or not. “He was a guy, one I prefer not to talk about.”
I fingered his beard. He was growing it out for a role as a scruffy biker, complete with long brown hair that he kept tied back in a neat little bun. I’d hated the change in his look when he’d first gotten the part, but lately it was really growing on me.
Anton was Hollywood good-looking, versatile, and ever changing but polished to gleaming, with perfect teeth, handsome features, and total control over every muscle in his face.
We’d met two years ago shooting a doomed pilot. The show had never made it on air, but at least I’d gotten Anton out of the deal.
We were so much alike that it scared me sometimes. He was basically a male version of me.
We’d dated for about five minutes, and I’d even been about one drink from sleeping with him, but then I’d realized that I actually liked him, so friends it was.
He grinned. “You’re starting to like this biker vibe I have going, aren’t you?”
“Fat chance, beardo,” I told him, making a face at him as I moved to take a barstool at the counter.
“Dante has a temper,” Demi pointed out from the kitchen, where she was staring at the cupcakes forlornly.
