Chapter 22: Vee

I had no talent.

Some people are born with gifts to share with the world, but I didn’t have any special ability that made me stand out. I was an eighteen-year-old girl with empty hands. I wasn’t pretty enough for people to overlook my flaws. I didn’t have the kind of body that fit the industry’s standards of beauty. I didn’t have a voice that could turn heads. I didn’t know how to act, dance, or write.

I had nothing.

But I was smart. And I was willing to do anything.

I was too young to fully understand it then, but in life, you don’t need everything to succeed. Sometimes, all you need is to hide your weaknesses—or turn them into your greatest strengths. I chose the latter. I decided that being myself, with all my imperfections, would be my greatest talent.

Los Angeles taught me quickly that a fawn, even the swiftest, can’t outrun a lion. But, maybe, I didn’t have to. Maybe I could dodge the lion, trick him, or lead him into a trap. I was that fawn. I knew I’d never be the fastest, but I could be the boldest.

I got off the plane believing that what I left behind would be mine forever—a constant in my life. What I didn’t know then was that nothing stays the same. Life moves, shifts, turns—and so do we.

I arrived in Los Angeles with nothing more than a reserved room at a roadside motel and an interview with Cade, Barnaby’s son. That was it. My belongings? Just a handful of clothes, enough for a couple of clean outfits, and some memories. I didn’t even have a cell phone. They were too expensive, and what little money I had, I needed to keep myself fed. But I knew I’d need one soon, especially if I started auditioning. I also needed to call Yaron and let him know I was okay.

That first night, lying on the motel bed, I touched the necklace Yaron had given me and thought of him. Of us. I remembered every moment we laughed, breathed, touched, and loved. With him, I had been happy. Without him ... I hoped I could find new ways to be happy.

But I knew that, eventually, I’d have to answer the question that would haunt me for years to come— “Why did you leave?” At that moment, though, leaving was the only thing that made sense. I didn’t know who I would’ve become if I hadn’t taken that plane.

All I knew was that if I had stayed, I would’ve never stopped feeling like I’d lost.

People always think that unmade decisions wouldn’t matter—that the things we didn’t do just fade away. But they didn’t. They linger. And sooner or later, that sense of defeat would have taken root in me, growing as much a part of me as everything else I was.

And happiness couldn’t grow from that. It was impossible.

So, there I was, in a strange city, with barely enough clothes to get by. Los Angeles should’ve scared me, but instead, it ignited something in me. A hunger to take bites out of life that could finally give me something good.

And soon, I would. Those bites would be so big, there wouldn’t be room for anything else.

The first time I walked into the Honeybee Café, I smiled. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it smelled of coffee and pastries, and the waitress wore a flowery apron that reminded me of the movies I used to watch with Yaron. I imagined myself walking around the tables with a pot of coffee, and I liked the thought.

Being a waitress seemed simple, interesting, and rewarding.

I walked up to the counter and glanced at a girl a bit older than me. She had dark hair that fell past her shoulders and a pretty smile. She was cursing at a bottle of syrup.

“Do you want me to help you?” I offered.

The girl looked up and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry, it’s personal now—between me and him,” she said, pointing at the jar.

I held back a laugh.

“You understand?”

I nodded, watching her struggle until she finally opened it, giving me a triumphant smile. I didn’t know her, but I already liked her.

Everything was going to be okay.

“Are you Patti?” I asked.

She studied me curiously and nodded.

“You must be Vee. I’ve been waiting for you. Cade told me you were starting today. Come on, I’ll show you where the uniform is.”

“Thank you.”

She came out from behind the counter, and I followed her down a hallway beside the restrooms to a storage room filled with boxes of supplies. At the back, stood a metal locker.

“The one on the right is yours. Here’s the key, though I never lock mine,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously. “You’re not planning on robbing me, are you, Vee? Because I’ll tell you right now, you’ll have to eat a lot more to fit into my pants.”

I shook my head, smiling, and put my backpack in the locker next to hers. I left the key inside—I had no intention of locking it. Without realizing it, that simple gesture passed an important test for Patti, who saw my indifference as a sign of trust. What I never told her was that when you had nothing, there was nothing to lose.

Patti smiled and dropped into a chair as I changed without any shame. The uniform was a vanilla-colored shirt and pants suit, topped with a flowery apron. She watched in silence, noticing my worn jeans and a plain black T-shirt. My underwear was practical and unremarkable.