Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I’ll never get used to that fire behind Brooke’s eyes. If only everyone in the world could see that passion the way I do … “You rocked it this past week, Brooke,” I tell her. “I told you before, a roomful of so-called ‘experts’ couldn’t have pulled off what you did.” She adopts a proud smirk, her posture straightening. “Still,” I go on, “I … need to be the one to do this. For me. I need to be the one who sets things right this time. On my own terms.”
Finn presses to my side, his voice low. “Be that as it may … you don’t have to do this alone.”
I gaze at Finn—another source of passionate eyes. The fire runs deep in the blood of this family, that much is clear to me. Is that why it feels so much like home here?
“Do you truly think it’ll help?” asks Marty. Despite his calm tone, when he speaks, the sisters go silent, both of them turning his way. “Are you not afraid of the risks?”
I shake my head. “I’m aware this very well may spell the end of my career as I know it. I think a part of me was ready to say goodbye to all of it the moment I fled that first press meeting that never happened. Or maybe before that, seconds before I flew off the set and put my fist into Trent Embers’ face. I was ready to let it go. Yes,” I reaffirm. “I am ready for whatever consequences face me … as long as Finn and your family are safe.”
Marty is difficult to read. He’s both pleasant and oddly aloof at the same time. But eventually he smiles and takes action with an assured calmness. “Well, then. Let’s set you up a nice spot for your live feed, shall we? Girls?”
Brooke and Heather look at each other, surprised, then at him. As the fight slowly drains from our bones, everyone seems to surrender to the notion that I’m going to do this.
While Heather and Brooke set up a well-lit spot with a chair in front of a stack of books (in lieu of a tripod) atop a desk to properly support my phone, Finn clutches my arms and begins coaching me. “Ignore the comments during the live feed,” he tells me for the fifth time. “They’ll be trolls, all of them. Just stay focused on the teeny tiny lens. Don’t break eye contact. Full eye contact with your audience will keep you sincere and totally connected to them. You don’t want them to even think you’re checking a script …”
“You may not realize it,” I tell Finn, rubbing his arms, “but you’ve given me so much in my short time here.”
“Did you pay attention to what I said? Eye contact …”
“I think these past few weeks have contained some of the greatest days of my life.”
“You should be taking notes. Should I write this down? Are you gonna remember all of this?”
“The best of which was our time on that secluded spot on the beach. Not because of … what we did …” I allow myself a smile. Why does my heart feel so light suddenly? “But because of how connected I felt to you. Finn, I’ve … I’ve never felt this connected to another person in my life.”
“River …”
I bring my hands to the sides of his face, cradling it. “I have had a thousand relationships in my life—as an actor. With every character I embodied. And every person that my characters encountered. On and off the screen, too. All the directors and costumers and acting coaches and costars and crew members who made the filming experiences special. Not one of them … not even one … compares to how seen and real you make me feel.”
“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”
I close my mouth and drop my gaze.
I wonder if that’s precisely what I’m doing. Preparing myself for the worst. Giving Finn my final words because after this live feed is over with, the fate of my future will be in the hands of the court of public opinion. And Trent Embers. And perhaps also my bloodthirsty agent, who told me to lay low and stay away from the internet.
And my dear friend Lexi, whose hell I can’t even begin to imagine.
“We’re ready when you are,” says Brooke.
I turn to find the sisters both looking at us. Heather’s eyes are misty. Brooke’s lips are twisted into a wistful, sad little smile. I wonder how much of my words they heard.
It feels like three breaths later that I’m already sitting in the chair with my phone before me. Finn’s dad stands behind it, finger at the ready. “Good to go?” he asks.
I take a short breath, then part my lips to say yes.