Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
I’m not sure I’m equipped to grant his favor emotionally or physically.
I push off the door, toss my purse on the table, and walk into the kitchen where I pour a glass of red wine. After a quick shower, I’m in my silk pajama bottoms and a tank top, sitting on the bed, replaying the conversation with Damion when my phone buzzes with a text message. My heart skips a beat and I hate how much I want it to be him. Trying to shake off my reaction and losing, I grab my cell, and eye the screen.
The message reads: A penguin walks into a bar and says, "Have you seen my dad?"
I don’t need caller ID to know who this is from. This an old joke Damion used to tell me as a kid.
I reply with the punchline: What does he look like?
Damion answers with: Not me, Alana. He doesn’t look like me.
Suddenly the joke isn’t a joke anymore, and I wonder if it ever was at all. It’s as if he was telling me something I never understood. He’s not his father. I lie down on the bed and just think a few minutes before I finally type: What happened to a year? But I don’t hit send. I stare at the message a full minute and then delete it and start again: Ten years is a long time.
It is, is all he says.
We don’t know each other anymore, I type.
And yet you knew the punchline.
It’s a joke, I counter, just a joke. We aren’t the same people. We won’t be convincing.
His reply comes quickly: I disagree.
He says nothing else. I wait and wait, and still nothing. Finally, I push for more: That’s all you’re going to say?
Some part of me wants him to tell me I’m obligated to do him this favor, even threaten me over the money, because then I could prove he does resemble his father. The answer he gives me is not what I expect: I need you, Alana. Just you. No one else will do. Think about it. I’m not going to pressure you. You call me when you’re ready. Goodnight, starlight.
My heart squeezes.
Starlight is a name he gave me when we were kids.
It was really about a silly costume I created with stars all over it, and when I wore it, I was a warrior princess who could conquer the world. It’s proof he doesn’t know me anymore. I haven’t been that warrior princess in a very long time.
***
Morning comes early with a six am studio call on almost no sleep.
But despite a night of tossing and turning, and replaying my encounter with Damion, I arrive on time. Albeit, that’s not a hard thing to do in sweats, with no makeup, and my hair pinned up. Once I’m in the building, I’m hurried into a chair, where my stylist puts in her earbuds and works her magic. The producer then hands me pages to read and offers me direction for the day.
It’s not until I’m reading through the script that I concede the fact that I really do owe Damion a favor. He saved my family, generously so, and even the punishment of his father’s manipulation doesn’t change that fact. I might question what I once called our friendship, but his actions say otherwise. I don’t know what divided us, but I am grateful for what he did for us.
I have to do what he wants me to do. I have to pretend to be his fiancée, which means we will interact in a way that will only throw me back into that dazed and crazy place where he consumes me. I glance at framed TV show poster of me on the wall and remind myself that I’ve built a life outside of Damion. I think. Unless he really is the reason I landed this show. It was all so strange, the way it came about. I’d been at my desk when I’d gotten the call.
“Ms. Blue, this is Ralph Finley with REAL Network.”
“Hi,” I reply, fully expecting a real estate search. “How can I help you?”
“You helped someone on our team locate a property and he was impressed with you. We’re looking to expand our real estate programming. We’d like to have you screen test for your own TV show.”
I blink in confusion. “I ah…what?”
“I know this is unexpected,” he adds, “but you are exactly what we’re looking for. We will need to screen test and ensure that translates to film.”
I’d been blown away and hung up and contacted an agent I’d shown properties to a few months back. Nelson had been elated for me and he’d lectured me on all the reasons to do this. My mother’s relief had been immense. “This will save us. Can you imagine how much business we will get from the press? Even your father won’t be able to gamble it all away.”