Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter
Thirty-Six
You’re talented and beautiful and good .
Ramona’s words looped through Dylan’s head during the day, pulling her shoulders back and filling her lungs with air. It had been a tough shoot so far, long as hell. They were wrapping up every scene that took place in the Bonner house, which included polishing the first kiss scene, as well as the breakup scene that occurred at night, golden twinkle lights glittering through the backyard and along the private pier.
Still, the work had gone smoothly so far, and Dylan felt calm and capable. Confident, even. Shockingly, Gia had given her an approving nod when she’d swiped a thumb over Blair’s cheek during their kissing scene, soft and sweet, Blair’s eyes liquid, love and lust radiating between them. Which was one hundred percent bullshit and was also one hundred percent perfect. Even Gia couldn’t deny it, and Blair laughed and batted Dylan’s hand away after the scene ended, but she too seemed pleased.
So as the sun sank into the lake, spreading pink and lavender and gold across the lawn while Dylan sat at the patio table and reviewed her lines for the breakup scene, she was feeling pretty good. She was feeling like herself, and like she couldn’t wait to see Ramona later. She had barely caught a glimpse of her all day long, the woman was so busy.
She smiled, thinking about Ramona kicking ass. She knew they needed to talk about the job with Noelle, but she also knew Ramona wasn’t Jocelyn. She wasn’t anyone Dylan had ever dated.
And then Jocelyn Gareth herself walked out the back door, Jack Monroe at her side.
“Fuck,” Dylan said under her breath.
“Dylan,” Jocelyn said, all her perfect teeth showing. She was dressed in a terracotta pantsuit à la Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman , loose and flowing, perfect for her lithe form. “I was hoping to run into you.”
“Were you?” Dylan asked, standing and pulling her dress to the side so she could walk. At least she was dressed impeccably for the upcoming party scene, wearing a strapless tulle gown embroidered with red, pink, yellow, and blue flowers.
Talented and beautiful and good .
She folded her hands in front of her, determined to stay calm. Professional.
“Of course,” Jocelyn said.
“Dill Pickle here is really killing it on this film,” Jack said.
Dylan gritted her teeth at his use of the nickname in front of her ex.
Jocelyn’s eyes glittered. “I’m sure she is.”
“Dill, I brought Jocelyn by to see this breakup scene,” Jack said. “I think an original song would fit perfectly after the break, in a sort of montage.”
“Great,” Dylan said.
“Great,” Jocelyn said.
“Great,” Jack said.
Dylan would rather be chewing on tinfoil right now.
“So,” Jocelyn said, “I hear you’re dating.”
Dylan narrowed her eyes. “I hear you’re engaged.”
Jocelyn laughed and held out her hand, a diamond sparkling on her ring finger. “I am. Ruby is wonderful.”
“So is Ramona,” Dylan said. Jack’s eyes flicked between them, his brows lowered.
“She’s made of strong stuff, then,” Jocelyn said with a smile, an insult aimed at Dylan rolled up in a pretty compliment for Ramona.
“She’s made of real stuff,” Dylan said, even as she knew she just needed to shut up. Be the bigger person instead of jumping into a pissing match over current partners with her ex, but Jocelyn made her feel so fucking small.
“Okay,” Jack said, clapping his hands together. “Jocelyn, why don’t we find a good spot to watch the action?”
“Sounds great, Jack, thank you,” Jocelyn crooned.
The two were about to head off, and Dylan knew she should let them, but then she saw her.
Ramona.
Her Ramona.
Stepping out of the back door with a cute cream-colored apron around her waist, needles and thread and sewing scissors tucked into the pockets.
“Ramona, hey,” Dylan said, hurrying over to her. “Come meet an old friend.”
Ramona opened her mouth, a frown creasing her forehead, but Dylan simply slipped her fingers between Ramona’s and pulled her toward Jocelyn, who had stopped at the sound of Ramona’s name.
“Jocelyn, this is Ramona Riley,” Dylan said. “Ramona, Jocelyn Gareth.”
Jocelyn smiled angelically, held out her hand. “The girlfriend.”
Ramona hesitated, then took Jocelyn’s hand, shaking it only once before dropping it. She didn’t smile. Didn’t look at Dylan. In fact, she looked a little miserable, her face pale and her lower lip red and textured, as though she’d been chewing on it.
“Hey,” Dylan said softly, squeezing her palm, “are you all—”
“I’m not the girlfriend,” Ramona said, cutting Dylan off. Her eyes were fixed on Jocelyn. She untangled her fingers from Dylan’s. Her words took a few seconds to land, like the first snowflakes falling from the sky, tumbling from a huge height to the ground.
But when they finally settled…
Dylan felt everything in her go cold.
“Oh?” Jocelyn said.
Behind her, Jack cleared his throat.
“No,” Ramona said. “I’m just…I’m no one. Good luck with the song. Excuse me.”
Then Ramona turned and started walking away.
Without a word to Dylan, without even glancing in her direction.
Dylan’s instincts took over, spurred on by a cold fear.
“Hey, hey, wait,” she said, hurrying after Ramona and grabbing her arm at the top of the porch stairs.
But Ramona pulled back, forcing Dylan to drop her hold and lift her hands in surrender.
“Hey,” Dylan said again. “It’s just me.”
“Is it?” Ramona said, her eyes filling with tears.
“What are you talking about?”
They were attracting attention, crew members and cast alike. Blair was in the yard, all gussied up for the scene in a classic black strapless dress. She frowned in their direction, as did Gia, who was talking to one of the sound technicians. Still, Dylan couldn’t walk away, couldn’t leave this for later, no matter how much she knew she should. Ramona was looking at her like she didn’t even recognize Dylan.
“What happened?” Dylan asked. “What’s wrong?”
Ramona shook her head. “Dylan.”
Dylan just blinked at her, reached for her hand. “What? Baby, please—”
“Don’t,” Ramona said, pulling her hand away. “Don’t call me that. Let’s just—”
“Then tell me what’s wrong.”
Ramona sighed, then finally looked at her. “You really want to do this here?”
“Yes. Whatever this is. Yes, I want to do this here.”
Dylan’s internal alarms were blaring, crimson light circling through her whole body.
Stop.
Do not proceed.
Red. Red. Red.
But she’d never been able to handle strong emotions with a level head, with caution , especially this kind, when she didn’t even know what the emotions were. Her early life with her parents had triggered an almost constant state of fight or flight in her day-to-day functioning, never knowing what was coming next, and that uncertainty was like a cancer eating away at her heart, her thoughts.
“Fine,” Ramona said, turning to face her, her arms folded. But then her expression crumpled, her eyes red-rimmed.
Dylan’s heart collapsed in on itself. “Ramona,” she said softly, stepping closer and cupping Ramona’s elbows gently. “What is—”
“Did your publicity team tell you to date me?”
The words didn’t make sense at first; they were the last thing Dylan expected Ramona to say. And then…they made far too much sense.
“What?” Dylan asked, even though she knew. She knew, and panic had replaced all of her cells. Because this wasn’t right, this wasn’t how this day was supposed to go. This wasn’t how Ramona was supposed to ever feel, she wasn’t supposed to ever know—
Dylan’s swirling thoughts jolted to a stop.
She wasn’t supposed to ever know .
That was what she’d planned. Because she liked Ramona, wanted her, and now she realized how stupid she’d been. How wrong .
“Ramona,” she said softly so no one else could hear her. “Let’s go somewhere and talk. Please.”
Ramona just laughed humorlessly. “I guess I have my answer.”
“Please,” Dylan said again. “I can explain.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” Ramona said, but shook her head. Her eyes were dry, but swollen with emotions all the same. Hurt and anger and so many things that made Dylan want to wrap her up in her arms.
But she couldn’t.
Ramona wouldn’t let her.
“Let’s just talk, please,” Dylan said again.
Ramona took a step back. The set was quiet, all eyes on them, but Dylan didn’t even care right now. She didn’t care about anything but erasing that look in Ramona’s eyes.
“The thing is,” Ramona said, lifting her arms and then letting them slap back at her side, “I haven’t been honest with you either.”
Dylan felt her heart stutter. “What do you mean?”
Ramona eyes finally filled then, but she kept them on Dylan. “We’re wrong, Dylan. We just hurt each other.”
“Don’t say that,” Dylan said, stepping closer to her. “Look, yes, Rayna and Laurel wanted me to date you, but I wanted to date you too. For me, for you , for—”
“I want to be a costume designer.”
Dylan closed her mouth, let the words sink in. They didn’t seem barbed—seemed like a basic fact about Ramona that Dylan should know. A fact she did know. But then the meaning settled over her— costume .
Not just apparel.
“So you…” Dylan said, blinking, trying to make it make sense. “You want to…”
“Work in costume design,” Ramona said, folding her arms. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. A tear escaped and she swiped it away, but her gaze was still steel and glass. “Like this. Like Noelle Yang. I’ve always wanted that.”
And then it all came together.
Click .
The pieces sliding into place.
Ramona and Noelle. Noelle, whom Ramona had met through Dylan, and how nervous Ramona always seemed around the designer. The assistantship. Who knew what else—Dylan certainly didn’t. She didn’t know this woman standing in front of her at all. Hadn’t asked so much, because she was scared of the answers, and she had a right to be. But unlike Jocelyn, Dylan had hurt Ramona too…and that just made it all worse.
Ramona was right.
They hurt each other. Lied to each other, didn’t trust each other. And they both had good reason. Dylan knew she shouldered just as much of the blame for this moment as Ramona, but right now, a numbness spread through her limbs, radiating out from her heart. She felt it happening, when fight or flight shut down, and she simply turned off.
“Dylan,” Ramona said. Not softly. Not gently. Just her name. Utilitarian and emotionless.
But there was nothing else to say, was there?
So Dylan hiked up the dress that Ramona herself had no doubt prepared for this scene—this breakup scene where everything came out between Eloise and Mallory and everything went to hell—and walked away.