Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
I patted her knee. “Of course she’s not.”
“No, she really isn’t, Garrett. I can all but guarantee you. Destiny is…” she paused, trying to figure out how to put something into words. “She’s not like what she looks like, okay? I know her really well.”
I believed her, but it didn’t really matter. As Noemi also knew well, the point wasn’t what was true; it was what people believed was true. Lay down with dogs, come up with fleas and all that. “Fine, she’s Mother Theresa incarnate,” I said to appease her. “She still needs to distance herself from that group.”
More than that, she needed to be linked with someone who could raise her stock. Someone clean cut, well respected. Noemi’s star power would help, and I knew Noemi would make sure word leaked that she and Destiny Pollock had been seen getting lunch together, but we needed more than that.
Noemi threw out names while I drove, but none of them were right. Some were too old. I didn’t want anything that would be reminiscent of the yacht girl rumors. Some were too young. I didn’t want a rabid teen fan base tearing her down. Some had decent reputations, but I’d heard unsavory rumors that undercut their golden boy statuses. Some were too boring.
“Too old, too young, too bad, too good,” Noemi threw up her hands. “You think of someone, Goldilocks.”
She played with the radio while I ran through the Hollywood roster in my head. Just as I was pulling into her driveway, it hit me.
“Andrew Quinn,” I said.
Noemi opened her mouth, ready to shoot me down like I’d shot her down about twenty times. Then she frowned as she realized she couldn’t. That it was perfect. Andrew Quinn had played the best friend of Magical Melody’s older brother on the show. They’d had a will they-won’t they vibe for the last two seasons of the show that hadn’t been planned by the writers originally, but their chemistry was too obvious to ignore.
That alone wouldn’t have made him perfect. What really sealed the deal was that Andrew Quinn’s career had unexpectedly taken off after Magical Melody ended. He’d shocked the hell out of the industry by snagging the second lead in Ford Comet’s highly anticipated movie and earned himself a best supporting actor Golden Globe. He had a movie coming out next week, and right now he was wrapping a superhero movie before he started work on a movie Julian was producing. He was a big name. His fan base admittedly contained a large section of rabid teenagers, but the Magical Melody connection should undercut their jealous rage. They’d hate it, but they’d admit what Noemi and I knew.
It was perfect.
Now I just had to convince Destiny.
6
DESTINY
I was glad that Garrett was working on commission because so far, his suggestions seemed less helpful and more infuriating.
“I like my hair,” I said stubbornly when he came by the next day to ‘run through a few things.’
“Yeah, it’s great,” he said unconvincingly. “But it’s working against you. No one can see you in any role other than the one you’ve been playing lately.” He didn’t say yacht girl prostitute, but it hung in the air between us.
Garrett walked around my small apartment, seemingly unable to sit still. He picked up a framed photograph of me and Rowena in front of the Eiffel Tower. In it, I was twelve years old, about two years away from getting the Magical Melody role. I was on my first European press tour, and we couldn’t believe our luck. There we were getting paid to be in Paris.
He put it down, moved down the length of the entertainment stand. Picked up my Teen Choice award I kept putting away and Rowena kept digging back out.
“Put that down,” I said tetchily, standing up from the couch and grabbing it out of his hands. I pulled out the top drawer of my entertainment stand and dropped the silver and glass surfboard-shaped trophy inside.
“Sorry,” Garrett said absently as he picked up another framed picture. This one was of me and the entire cast and crew of Magical Melody. I was in the center, my arms around Stacy Harrison, who had played my best friend, and Andrew Quinn, who had played my sort-of love interest in the last season.
I reached for it, but Garrett stepped away and held it out of my reach, studying it intently.
“What is so interesting?” I asked, exasperated. I loved that picture for the memories, but I’d been a gawky sixteen-year-old when it was taken, and the outfits they put Magical Melody in were a far cry from what I would have chosen to wear.
“Two things.” Garrett tapped the glass, his fingertip covering my face. “Your hair looked better brown.” He moved his finger to Andrew, oblivious to the glare I shot at him. “And do you still talk to this guy?”