Page 39 of Quiver

She did not, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I’ve believed in you from the first moment I saw you in that dinky little student show. I’ve always fought for you, and we’ve had each other’s backs even though you’ve gone in a different direction than we originally planned.”

Again, she didn’t point out that she hadn’t exactly made the choice not to become a large-scale blockbuster actress. The market had made those choices for her, and Mimi, as her agent, was the second most influential person throughout the process. She’d always been upbeat and encouraging. This new tone threw Kylie off and caused a chill even deeper than the dark evening warranted. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on? You had an audition go completely off the rails, and then you disappeared. All I got was a few words about needing to go home, and now I’m hearing through the grapevine you got into an argument with the director.”

“You’re the one who told me to fight for the part.”

“I didn’t tell you to lie to one of the most powerful women in the business.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“Kylie,” Mimi snapped, “don’t bullshit me, okay? If Talia Stamos called you tomorrow, could you land an arrow on a target from a moving horse?”

“Three,” she said softly as she trudged down the sidewalk that wasn’t quite cleared of snow.

“What?”

“Standard mounted archery competitions require you to hit three targets from a moving horse.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“I may’ve embellished my capabilities a little, but I’m closer than anyone else they’ve auditioned.”

“Maybe I could’ve worked with ‘close’ weeks ago, but you shot off your mouth and oversold yourself, and from what I heard, you got people’s hackles up in the process, so you’re going to be held to a higher standard. You didn’t promise them you could come up to speed fast. You promised you could do the job right now, didn’t you?”

She sighed, and a cloud formed around her in the cold. “I did.”

“Kylie, you put everybody behind the eight ball here.”

She didn’t argue. She’d tried to bully her way through enough interactions in her life to recognize the truth. “So what do I do?”

“You figure it out. You figure all of this out, and quickly, or you make peace with your plan B, because burning bridges with Sophia LeBlanc and Talia Stamos is akin to burning all the bridges. Those are the breaks, babe. You dug yourself a big hole, and you’re the only one who can get out now.”

“I know.”

“Get back to work.” Mimi disconnected as quickly as she’d jumped in.

Kylie stood outside the diner, the cold of her surroundings sinking in to meet the cold radiating from her core. She looked around, trying to anchor herself to the darkened street of her hometown, but between the snow obscuring the streetlights and the blur of hot tears threatening her eyes, she couldn’t make out much to cling to until she turned toward the large plate glass window of the local diner, and locked eyes with Fletcher.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Fletcher grumbled as Kylie turned and saw her.

She’d noticed her walking up a couple of minutes ago, but Kylie was so engrossed in her phone, Fletcher clung to the hope that she’d stroll on by. Even when she’d paused in front of the diner, she’d seemed a million miles away, and Fletcher took the rare chance to observe her unnoticed. She’d wondered if the pink of her cheeks stemmed from cold or emotion, as it peaked at a color close to the red waves spilling out the bottom of her stocking cap. She was beautiful even bundled up, maybe even more so than when she tried to turn people on. Her stature stood proud with a hint of defiance, and her jaw worked strong and stoic, but when she turned, her eyes betrayed her.

Kylie wasn’t just at a loss. She was falling.

Fletcher gripped the edge of her table to keep from moving toward her. The old instinct was still strong enough to strike fear. She knew from experience she couldn’t save a drowning woman. She’d only be dragged down with her, but for a few torturous seconds, she ached to be pulled anywhere by the woman she’d loved as a girl.

As Kylie pushed open the door, she didn’t even have the will to wish her away.

“Don’t worry,” Kylie said, as she passed, “I’m not here to stalk you. I’m getting my salad to go.”

“Order the meatloaf and mashed potatoes,” Fletcher offered, and Kylie continued shuffling slowly toward the counter.

“Ew.”

She rolled her eyes. “Meatloaf reheats well.”