Chapter 31
thirty-one
. . .
Sophia
The morning light streams through floor-to-ceiling windows.
Everything is cream and gold, from the plush carpet under my bare feet to the silk throw pillows scattered across what might be the deepest, softest couch I've ever sunk into.
But even surrounded by all this luxury, my mind keeps drifting back to Grant's house, with its lived-in comfort and the way morning the sun hits the kitchen counter just right.
I curl deeper into the oversized armchair with my legs tucked under me and wrap both hands around my coffee mug. The warmth seeps into my palms as I let myself have this moment—this moment where I'm happy, maybe even a little in love.
Somewhere down the hall, I can hear Stella humming in the shower and the soft click of someone's heels on marble, probably a housekeeper.
"There you are." Blair's voice is soft as she pads into the living area in hotel slippers, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun. She looks impossibly fresh for someone who was dancing until two o'clock in the morning. "I thought I heard someone out here."
"Just got up," I admit as she settles onto the couch across from me, sinking into its cloud-like depths. The Los Angeles skyline stretches out behind her, already hazy with morning light.
As Blair studies me over the rim of her coffee cup, a knowing smile tugs at her lips. "You disappeared with Grant last night."
I take a slow sip of coffee. "You're going to think I'm crazy."
She tilts her head. "Try me."
I exhale and set my cup down on the glass table.
"I keep telling myself this thing with Grant is casual, that I want it that way.
But last night, I…" I shake my head, swallowing against the lump forming in my throat.
"I said those things in my speech, and it felt like I wasn't just saying them to a room full of people.
It felt like I was talking to him. And to myself. "
Blair doesn't rush me, doesn't fill the silence like most people would. She just waits.
I press my fingertips against my temple. "It's so easy with him. I don't have to try. I don't have to be anything other than who I am, and he still…he just…" I let out a short, breathless laugh. "He looks at me like I matter. Like he sees something in me that I haven't even let myself see yet."
Blair leans forward, and the morning sun catches the diamond on her left hand—the promise of a future that is already so certain for her. "Maybe it's time to take your own advice from the speech, then?"
"I'm scared." The confession falls from my lips before I can stop it.
Blair's expression softens. "It's fucking terrifying."
I nod, staring down at my hands. "It's not just the idea of falling for him.
It's everything that comes with it. His daughter.
Geneva. His whole world that already exists and works without me in it.
What if I walk into it and ruin it? What if I can't fit?
" I look up at her, my chest tight with the weight of it.
"What if I let myself hope, and it all falls apart? "
Blair shakes her head. "Or what if it doesn't?"
A simple question. But it cracks something open in me.
Hope.
It's such an exciting and terrifying thing when you think about it. But at the end of the day, it's what we all live for.
Exhaling, I push off the couch to lean in and wrap my arms around Blair. "Thank you. I'm so lucky to have you in my life."
"Damn right, you are." She squeezes me tight before pulling back with a smirk. "Now, drink your coffee and start figuring out what you're gonna do about this man before I have to make spreadsheets and intervention plans."
I roll my eyes, but a laugh escapes me. For the first time in a long time, the fear feels a bit smaller.
"Alright. I need to get to the lot." I rise out of the chair and head down the hall to get ready for the day.
"Take the risk, Sophia!" Blair calls after me as she heads down the hall to her room.
The studio lot is unusually quiet, which is why I notice Jess immediately. She's coming from the direction of the PR building, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
"Just the woman I was hoping to see," she says, falling into step beside me.
"Let me guess…terrorizing Lucas?"
"Me? Never." Her grin is wicked. "Though it does make my day to see him get flustered when challenged. But better than that…the press from last night? Overwhelmingly positive. Everyone loves the idea of America's sweetheart mentoring Hollywood's favorite mini-me."
I stop walking. "Jess…"
"Friend hat on, reporter hat off," she says quickly, raising her hands. "I promise. And as your friend…" She glances around before moving closer to me. "What's really going on with you and Grant?"
Maybe it's Blair's words from this morning, or maybe I'm just tired of holding it all in, but suddenly, I'm telling her everything. The longstanding crush, that first kiss, the currently entangled emotions of something we promised to have no expectations about.
"I knew it." Jess's eyes are wide.
"It's not… I mean, we're not…"
"Stop." She takes my hands in hers. "We all know that man has been gone for you since Blair first brought you to lunch at The Ivy. Why do you think he invited you to the Hamptons last summer? He never invites new people to those parties."
"He was just being friendly."
But even as I say it, memories start shifting into new focus when I remember the way he lingered near me all night, or how we slipped into a dance or conversation so easily.
"You deserve this. And frankly, so does he." She squeezes my hands. "This industry makes it hard to trust genuine connections. But what you two have? I know it's real. And Lucas and I can handle any press fallout."
Her response shocks and calms me at the same time.
I think of the women I just spent the last twenty-four hours with and how they've become such an important part of my life.
Jess, who's become my unexpected champion.
Blair, who saw something in me before I saw it in myself when she supported my dreams to stretch beyond acting.
Stella, whom I adore and continue to grow closer to, embracing me as if we've known each other our entire lives.
And Edie, too, the industry icon I still can't believe agreed to work with me and who wants to know me beyond who I am as an actress.
For years, I'd resigned myself to a certain kind of loneliness.
Fame is funny that way—everyone knows you, but almost no one really knows you.
I'd become an expert at keeping people at arm's length, protecting myself from the endless parade of people who wanted something from me.
A photo. An introduction. A piece of my life to sell or exploit.
But these women—they're different. They see me. Not the actress. Not the headlines. Me.
They're slowly teaching me that not everyone has an angle. That some connections are real.
It amplifies that feeling of hope—not just about Grant, the film, or my career, but about myself. About what's possible when you're brave enough to let people in.