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“Tail and all,” he confirmed. “I liked the attention. Even at ten, I was a born performer. Just don’t tell anyone because if the press knew, they’d probably call PETA and boycott my next film.”
THORNE
Scarlett threw down her hand of cards while my gaze flickered over them. “Flush,” she crowed.
“Crap.” That meant she got to ask the next set of questions.
“Best day of your life?”
“Easy,” I said, gathering up the cards. “The day I got assigned my first role. I was almost eleven. We met Trainer, my agent, in his office, and he told us the big news.”
My voice turned soft at the memory, “My mother had never been prouder. That’s probably what I remember the most.”
“And your worst?”
“The day the media reported the drug bust story,” I said, feeling the familiar wrench in my chest as I shuffled.
Then, before she could ask any questions, I announced, “My deal.”
“Person you’re closest to?” I asked.
“Penelope, obviously,” Scarlett answered.
“And if you could only take three things on a remote island, they would be?”
“P, my sketch pad, and some charcoal pencils.”
“You love designing that much?”
“Designing, creating, styling . . . I really do,” she answered, her tone whimsical.
“If you don’t make it in New York, what will you do?” I asked, truly curious.
“That’s three questions.”
I shot her a sidelong glance.
“Fine.” She breathed and shrugged as she stared up at the ceiling. “Probably get a job in fashion merchandising somewhere. Or because those jobs aren’t easy to find either, I’d probably open up a little clothing boutique. At least then I could style clothes and help people find what fits their body and personality, even if they aren’t my own.” She reached out and grabbed her soda, bringing the can to her lips.
“You wouldn’t want to be a baker? Take over Batter and Bake one day or try to expand.”
She shook her head. “No. That was their dream, not mine.”
“And they respect that?” I asked, wondering what that was like, to have parents who allowed you to make up your own mind. Though I wasn’t sure I would’ve chosen differently, my mother forged ahead, pursuing my entertainment career with little input. The early years mostly consisted of her hustling and telling me how great it would be once I was a star.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t they?”
I shrugged, trying not to give too much away. “My mom’s just . . . She means well, but let’s just say she’s never too shy about telling me what she thinks I should and shouldn’t do with my life.”
Scarlett fell silent, staring at me before she asked, “What about you? What would your backup have been?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I was just a kid when my mom started pimping my videos to anyone who would watch. Ten when someone finally did, and we got the call. That’s not much of a chance to think about a backup plan.”
“Still, if you had to choose, or you needed one now. Say your career ended tomorrow . . .”
“Do you know something I don’t?”
She nudged me with her foot, and I laughed.
