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“Then do it. What’s the worst that can happen?” Even with all the uncertainty in my life, I can’t walk away from him.
I’ve wanted this too much, for too long.
And even though he doesn’t say it, I see it in those ocean-blue eyes; the worst that could happen is we fall in love.
16
CASSANDRA
“You’ve been spotted.”
Yaren’s voice hits my ear, and I temporarily blank out. “Huh?”
“There is an article and a picture of you walking around in your hometown that was posted on Celeb Spot this morning.”
“Ah fuck.” I cringe, knowing it’s only a matter of time before paparazzi show up here banging down my door.
I’m sitting in my dad’s kitchen—because I still don’t think of this house as mine—eating lunch as I talk to him. It’s a day with nothing to do, since new floors were installed yesterday, and I’m waiting on windows that don’t allow frigid air in. The idea of a hot bowl of tomato soup and grilled cheese spurred me to go in search of that, and I returned from the farm-to-table cafe with macaroons and a fruit tart I hadn’t planned on. The latest episode ofVirgin Riverhad been pulled up and placed next to my lunch on the table right before Yaren called.
“I’ve already had a ton of inquiries about the next project you’re doing, and why you aren’t on the press tour forFaithful Foes.” My agent is masking his annoyance at me, and I can tell.
“I only have a supporting role, at best, in that movie; they don’t need a statement on why I’m not doing press.”
As if walking red carpets and giving pithy interview answers is all I’m good for. I actively hate that part of being an actress in Hollywood, it gives me so much hangover anxiety when worrying about what words will be dissected in tomorrow’s news cycle.
Yaren sighs. “Fine. But, Cass, we have to talk about this.”
I’ve probably strong-armed him as much as I possibly can. And he’s right, we need to get down to brass tacks.
“I’m not happy anymore, Yaren.” It’s as simple as that.
“Okay. Then we find projects that make you happy. Or you produce your own show or movie, you have the money to do it.”
His solution is not one at all for me. “No, Yaren, you don’t get it. I’m not happy there, in my life. I love acting, yes, but only in its purest form. I’m absolutely exhausted by everything else. And not in a ‘I need a break’ way. I truly can’t see myself back there. I’ve taken the year, I’ve been in Hope Crest for months. Nothing in me is calling me back to LA or that life. I think about my future and each time I picture it in Hollywood, I get this sour taste in my mouth and a pit in my stomach. I’m done. Or I want to be. I know it’s possible for some to fade, to just fall out of public view for a while—”
“You’re not just some person in Hollywood, Cassandra. You’re A-list. A-plus list, if we’re being frank. People are obsessed with your life. What you wear. What movies you star in. You might not be on social media, but I am, monitoring all the time to see what people are saying. You’ve remained a private celebrity for the most part, but you’re still a celebrity. You have a ton of fan accounts cataloging all that you do, which is probably how someone found you in Hope Crest. I don’t think it’s going to be so easy to stop working. Plus, on a totally non-selfish note, it would be a shame for you never to act again.”
“Totally non-selfish,” I quip, knowing he takes fifteen percent from every million I make. “And I never said I won’t. It’ll just be for me. Which is why I started acting in the first place.”
“You have a ton of endorsement deals.” Yaren sighs, and I love him because he’s not questioning a decision I’ve taken a year to come to terms with.
“I’ll fulfill them. Or if they’re not too far along, shop them to your other clients. I just … I want out, Yaren.”
“This isn’t typical. And you may regret it,” he warns.
Checking in with my heart and my head, dissecting the feelings swirling through my blood, I know I won’t. “I might, but that’s life. I’ve taken the time away, no part of me has missed anything about that lifestyle. This change is necessary, and while there might be fallout, I’m at peace with it.”
When I say it, I know I’ll have to get to my mother before she reads about this. Some media source will pick up that Yaren is offloading my deals, and the rest will unravel from there. Celebrity business is known before most celebrities know it themselves.
Yaren huffs on the other end. “You’re such a talent. I’ll miss seeing you sparkle on screen.”
My decision to choose him as my agent years ago pays out tenfold at this moment. Any other ruthless shark in the business would be ripping me a new asshole, refusing to close out my accounts, hanging on hopelessly by their teeth to drain as much money from me as they possibly could. Not Yaren, though, and for that, I’m thankful. He still, seemingly impossibly, has a soul and is willing to help with this final endeavor.
“And I’ll miss our lunches where you joke about billing me hourly,” I razz him.
“Anytime you want another lunch, it’s on the house.” His tone is almost sad.
“I’ll be around. I still have a house there, and you could travel outside the LA bubble to come see me. Hope Crest is beautiful in the winter.”
