Chapter 27: Vee

“Are you preparing for an audition? If it’s for a movie, I might be interested. And don’t worry—I wouldn’t ask for any special treatment just because I serve you the best breakfast in Los Angeles every day.”

I raised my eyebrows mischievously, but Scott didn’t even crack a smile.

Lately, I had been able to coax smiles out of him. No matter how much I pretended otherwise, I knew he found me amusing, and I took full advantage of it. Our relationship had grown closer, free from the formality I maintained with other clients.

But this morning, he simply frowned and sighed lazily.

“I don’t want cake today. Just coffee.”

Beside his cell phone, I noticed a box of diet pills.

My brain went into overdrive. My gaze drifted to the waistband of his unbuttoned pants. Another man obsessed with losing weight. I saw the guilt in his eyes as he stared at the dessert display.

Leaning in close, I whispered conspiratorially, “Maybe a brownie? I won’t tell anyone. A small chocolate one—can’t be that fattening. Besides, you work too much. Your brain needs sugar.”

I winked, watching as doubt flickered across his face. He subconsciously sucked in his stomach, and then nodded.

“Okay.”

Days, weeks, and months slipped away. It was hard to believe I had already been in Los Angeles for half a year. I often thought about my life in Seattle, but I struggled to recall the sensation of waking up each morning to find my father passed out on the floor.

That morning in Patti’s apartment, I woke up happy, relaxed, and certain that things would be okay. I missed Yaron, of course, but I found it surprisingly easy to get used to this feeling.

Love was important, but it wasn’t everything. Maybe I was too young to think like that, but life had taught me the hard way that happiness didn’t come solely from being in love. It came from feeling good about myself, from pursuing meaningful goals, and from enjoying the simple pleasures in life.

I found happiness in small things—earning my own money, buying clothes just because I could, and having the freedom to decide where to go and what to do. I also took pleasure in modifying, adjusting, and adding my own touches to my growing wardrobe. After a while, I became really good with a needle.

I had never been selfish. My entire life had revolved around my father, keeping both of us afloat. But then, it was time to focus on myself. To live my life the way I wanted.

The feeling of being my own person was so exhilarating, I felt unstoppable.

I had grown used to accompanying Patti to auditions. I enjoyed sitting among the applicants, watching them, trying to absorb the talent in the air. I mimicked the way the girls walked, took note of their clothing choices, and memorized everything I liked so I could use it for myself later.

“Do you see that dress?”

Patti glanced at the girl waiting for her turn and nodded.

“It’s pretty, but I couldn’t wear it.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“My hips, remember?”

I rolled my eyes and ignored her. Patti wasn’t thin by industry standards. Her thighs were full, her hips curved, and she wasn’t particularly tall. Her chest always seemed to lean forward. She embodied the Latin beauty that captivated men but was often overlooked by casting directors.

“I’d cut off the sleeves and add chains to the shoulder pads,” I suggested.

I smiled, and Patti did, too. She was used to my way of seeing the world—of shaping it to my liking, distorting what I didn’t love until it became mine.

“I think it would look lovely, Vee.”

“Patti Patterson.”

The organizer’s voice made us sit up straight. I kissed Patti’s cheek and squeezed her arm.

Once alone, I settled into an empty seat, observing the young women around me. I wondered how many of them would succeed, if any of them would end up pursuing what they truly loved. Would talent triumph over beauty or charisma, as it so rarely did? Were any of these girls about to have their lives changed by a decision that depended on so many factors?