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I tell her about Charlie, what it was like growing up with her and how much of a great mother she is to the girls. It compels her to open up about her mom, and how when she died, she felt the need to protect Scarlett from the nasty people in Hollywood. “Scarlett has a really big heart, and quite often, she’ll only see the good in people. I just didn’t want anyone taking advantage of her. There are some horror stories about young women being taken advantage of. I couldn’t have that happen to my sister.”
“But what about you?” I ask her with good intentions. “Is this what you want to do?”
“I want the best for her. But no, I always wanted to be a Disney princess.”
I burst out laughing—it’s cute and something Ava would say. “Don’t most little girls?”
“Oh no,” she says. “I wasn’t young. I remember one year when I was eighteen I think, Dad, Scarlett and I went to Disneyland. I’d just been accepted into college and Scarlett’s career was starting to take off. Dad wasn’t coping well with the both of us almost leaving home, so he decided to take us there. We were watching the parade, and there was this kid sitting in a wheelchair. She would have been maybe five. Her head was completely shaved and her skin was extremely pale. She was awfully sick,” she says sadly, then continues, “The princesses, all of them, stopped the float and climbed off, so they could all shake her hand. You should have seen her face. It’s just stuck in my memory, you know. How happy they made her doing something so simple.”
“Do you know what happened to the little girl?” I ask, hopeful.
“No,” she mumbles. “I’d like to hope that wherever she is, she’s in peace.”
“So, you wanted to make people happy.”
“Yes, I did. I wanted to spend every day smiling and making people happy.”
“Then what happened?”
“I went to college. Got caught up with the wrong crowd, the wrong guys. I ended up in places I never knew how I got there. Random beds. I was a mess. And so, one morning, I decided I didn’t want to be a poor example for Scarlett. She looked up to me.”
“And so you went on to help her,” I fill in the blanks.
“Yes.” I can hear her smile through the phone.
“So, a princess, eh?”
She giggles softly. “Yeah. But a badass one who has tattoos hidden underneath my gown and a shotgun tucked into my garter for all the villains wanting to mess with me.”
It’s easy to picture it. She’s so damn beautiful she could make any costume look sexy.
We talk for hours, about everything. The both of us laughing at each other’s stories. I love hearing her speak. She’s led an interesting life, a little on the dangerous side when she was younger, but thankfully she outgrew that rebel attitude.
After our yawns become consistent, we both decide to end the call and catch up if possible tomorrow. She has an early flight to LA and I’ll be in meetings with clients for most of the day.
It never seems like time is on our side.
***
I’m tired the next day.
Our phone call ended somewhere around three am, when Addison decided to wake up and scream the house down. Charlie said she was teething. Great. I still have to function as a human being.
I’m on my third coffee when Haden strolls into my office.
“Got a minute?” he asks.
“Sure,” I tell him, prying my eyes away from my laptop. “What’s up?”
“Presley’s called an impromptu meeting. That woman will be the death of me.”
I follow Haden’s lead to the meeting room while he complains the whole way there about her overbearing ways. The editing team are already seated, and so I take a seat, leaving an empty spot beside me.
Karina, the young girl from finance, walks into the room immediately spotting the seat beside me. She walks over, sits down, which forces me to say hello.
“Hey, Karina.”
“Hey, Noah.” She grins, keeping her voice low. “It’s a shame you weren’t able to make it out to drinks. You missed Larry, the editor, doing a round of shots, then proceeding to do his rendition of Magic Mike.”
