Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
It’s always been as though they speak their own, silent language. It’s a little creepy.
“What’s up, Livie?” Mom asks.
“Are the other girls here?”
“No, they’re out,” Dad says and points to a stool. “Take a seat.”
“I might as well just get right to it,” I say as I accept a mug of coffee and take a sip. My dad always knows the right way to make it. “I need to know why, exactly why, you hate Hollywood so much.”
“Has something happened?” Mom asks.
“Several somethings,” I mutter.
“Why don’t we start with what’s going on with you?” Dad suggests, “and then we’ll go from there.”
I look down into my coffee. “It’s mostly paparazzi stuff. Photo leaks, lies, hounding. Which sucks, but I can see that it happens. But then this morning, TMZ freaking texted me, wanting to know about my relationship with Vaughn and why I’ve hidden that I’m your daughter.”
I swallow hard again.
“I’m not ashamed of you, you know that.”
“I know,” Dad says and leans on the counter. “Did you think you’d be able to keep that side of your life hidden forever?”
“No.” I sigh and push my hands through my hair. “I just didn’t expect to be ambushed with it. And on the heels of being followed by the paps last night, it just pissed me off.”
“Did they follow you home?” Dad’s voice is hard as stone.
“No, Vaughn and I went to a party hosted by the Seattle football team, and when we came out of the club, they were there and trailed us to his car. But they didn’t follow us from there.”
“Small miracles,” Mom murmurs. “The paps might be the worst part of your dad’s world. Of your world now. Hell, we met because he thought I was one of them and tried to steal my camera.”
“What?” I stare at both of them. “I never heard that story.”
“I was walking the beach, minding my own business,” Mom says, “taking pictures of the Sound, and this jerk comes storming over and demands that I erase the photos. I didn’t even know who he was.”
“It was a bad time for me,” Dad says softly. “I know what it’s like to live Vaughn’s life. At one time, I was the hottest young actor in the business, and they hounded me. There was never any privacy. My life was ripe to be picked apart every day. I couldn’t date. I couldn’t even leave my damn house. I felt like I was in prison.
“Finally, I left acting altogether and came back to Seattle for a while. I hated being followed constantly. It gave me anxiety. Really bad anxiety. So, yeah, I saw a woman taking photos and immediately thought she was aiming for me. Gave me a bad moment. But then I realized that she had no interest in me at all, and that’s when I knew that I’d met the woman I’d be with forever.”
“That’s…sweet?”
Mom laughs but then sobers again as she bites into her toast. “Your dad went from being in front of the camera to being behind it. That way, he was in the spotlight less.”
“I love making movies, second only to your mom and my kids,” Dad agrees. “But I couldn’t deal with all of the pressure that came from being the star of the film. The production process, directing the movies, is just as interesting to me and brings a little anonymity with it.”
“That’s not entirely true,” I say, shaking my head. “I know who Spielberg is, and he wasn’t an actor.”
“I’ll always be recognizable because of the work I did when I was young,” Dad says. “But since I’ve been married, my home is in Seattle, and I just make the movies, I’m less exciting to the paps. And I like it that way.”
“So, that’s why you never wanted us to go with you to LA?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want that world to touch you. We worked hard to have excellent security and to make sure that you lived normal lives. And for the most part, the press respected that.”
“Easy to do when we’re so boring,” Mom says with a smile. “We’re not exactly newsworthy unless your dad has a premiere or wins an award.”
“And that’s the way I like it,” Dad says. “Now, my amazing daughter, you have a decision to make for yourself. At the end of the day, it’s up to you to decide if you’re going to maintain the level of privacy I’ve given you or if you’re going to let the world in—and to what degree.”
“Being with Vaughn will dictate some of that,” Mom adds.
“Being with Vaughn is what started all this mess,” I admit with a sigh. “And he just says it happens. He acts like it’s no big thing. I mean, he said he’s sorry but that it’s just normal for him.”
“Because it is,” Dad says. “He’s dealt with this since birth. Maybe I sheltered you too much, but you’ve had two very different experiences.”