Chapter 16
Victoria spent the next few days hiding out. She ignored the texts from her mother, lied about why she couldn’t go to her
critique group and stopped eating. She found a guy in Riverside who taught people in wheelchairs how to play basketball and
paid for an all-day private lesson. The unfamiliar activity had wrecked her back and shoulders. Unfortunately the physical
pain wasn’t enough of a distraction from the emotional hurt.
She stayed up late binge-watching the trio of movies she’d shot in New Zealand, torturing herself with the memories of her
disastrous relationship with Prescott, but even that didn’t compete with the gnawing ache in her heart. But on the morning
of the fourth day, she woke up and told herself she had to snap out of it. Yes, there had been new, hurtful revelations, but
the overriding concept wasn’t a huge surprise. She’d always been the backup kid, and that wasn’t going to change. The name
thing was shitty, but there was nothing to be done about it. Technically she supposed she could legally make a change, but
the only thing that appealed was whatever name would most piss off her mother, and that was hardly a reason to go to all the
trouble.
She forced herself to do her morning workout routine—despite the fact that she could barely raise her arms above her head—then she did her semibathing and washed her hair.
All that activity reminded her that she needed to start eating again, so she went to her local coffee place and got a latte and an egg sandwich.
Once she was back home, she ordered groceries, then opened her laptop to do her Morning Pages.
Her mind instantly went blank, which had happened more and more lately. She did her best thinking after being physical—as
if running or jumping or sword fighting allowed her to clear her mind. With her movement so restricted by her injuries, she
was having a hard time engaging her brain.
She stared at the computer, then remembered some writing workshop guy talking about listing things to be grateful for as a
way to get things flowing.
“Stupid, but whatever,” she muttered and rested her hands on the keyboard. What was she grateful for?
“Nothing at all. Zero. Zip. Nada.”
Okay, there had to be something. One tiny thing. She began to type.
I’m grateful to be breathing.
I’m grateful my leg doesn’t hurt anymore, and it’s itching less.
I fucking can’t believe they couldn’t be bothered to give me a different name.
She stared at the last sentence, then closed her computer. She didn’t want to spend any mental energy on what she’d discovered,
didn’t want to feel the pain or think about it or anything. Basically, since she and her mom had run into Cindy, everything
had gone wrong in her life. Admitting that made her want to get out and do something active, although her injury made that
more difficult.
She thought briefly about texting Shannon, but remembered the other woman had said something about spending the day checking
on yard signs and making sure their listings had plenty of flyers. Her phone chimed with yet another text from her mother.
She deleted it without opening it, then scrolled through her contacts, stopping when she saw the one for Cindy.
If Ava could have lunch with Shannon, then Victoria could set up something with Cindy. Tit for tat, and all that kind of thing.
She started to text, then reminded herself that Cindy was close to her mother’s age and people of that generation preferred
a phone call. Seconds later she heard a soft “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Victoria.” She paused. “Ava’s daughter.”
Cindy laughed. “Of course. Hi. How nice to hear from you.”
“I’m glad you said that. I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee or something. I thought it would be fun for us to get
to know each other.”
She realized the ridiculousness of the words as she said them, but it was too late to change her mind now. She half expected
Cindy to blow her off, but instead she said, “I’d like that. Do you want to come by the office? We have a very fancy coffee
machine right here, and it would be quieter than meeting somewhere.”
“Sounds fun. When’s a good time for you?”
“How about now? I’ll text you the address. Oh, wait. Can you drive?”
“I was street racing just last night.”
Cindy laughed. “I hope that’s not true. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“You will.”
Victoria went into her bedroom where she quickly dressed in something nicer than the yoga pants and T-shirt that were her
staple these days. On the drive over, she alternated between feeling foolish and enjoying a rush of defiance. She was twenty-four.
At some point she was going to have to stop living her life simply to piss off her mother, but that day wasn’t today.
She arrived at the large real estate office and pulled into the parking lot. As she hop-stepped inside, she wondered if she
would run into Javiar, but when she entered the airy, open reception area, she only saw Cindy, who rushed to her, smiling.
“You made it,” Cindy said happily. “I’m glad.”
“You tempted me with the promise of fancy coffee.”
“And I’ll deliver. Let’s go into my office. We won’t be disturbed there.”
They passed several small conference rooms where Victoria assumed deals were made and paperwork signed. Beyond those were
smaller offices and an open area where a couple of people were working. Cindy’s space was in the corner. Two walls of windows
let in plenty of light. A computer with two screens sat on one desk while folders were stacked on another. Cindy led her to
the round table by one of the windows.
When Victoria was seated, Cindy smiled. “All right, I can make a latte, a cappuccino or even a mocha iced coffee. What would
you like?”
Victoria laughed. “So you have all the choices. A latte would be great. Thank you.”
Cindy excused herself. While she was gone, Victoria looked out at the small patio just off the building. There was pretty
landscaping, and it seemed the kind of place where they could host client parties, assuming real estate offices did that kind
of thing. She didn’t know much about the business. Her parents had bought their house long before she’d been born, and when
they’d wanted to give her a condo, she’d decided on the second one she’d seen, and then she’d signed paperwork. She would
guess most people didn’t have their parents paying cash so they didn’t have a mortgage.
“It’s possible I’m a spoiled brat,” she murmured just as Cindy returned with two mugs.
“One latte, as ordered,” Cindy said with a grin.
“You’re amazing. Thank you.”
The other woman sat across from her. Victoria studied her, thinking how much she looked like Ava. The similarities in hair
and eye color and face shape were uncanny. They truly could have been sisters.
“You look so much better,” Cindy told her. “How are you feeling?”
“Ready to be out of my cast. I’m bugging my orthopedist for a walking cast, but so far he’s not listening. I’m hoping in the next couple of weeks. It’s frustrating to be on crutches, and the cast gets itchy. But nothing hurts anymore, so that’s good.”
“I could never do what you do,” Cindy told her. “The stunt work. It sounds terrifying.”
“It’s a challenge, for sure. I don’t know if I’ll go back or not. It’ll take me months to get in shape. My broken leg is going
to be weak, and I’ll have to build back muscle, then work on my flexibility.” She sipped her latte. “I’m wondering if I should
make a career change.”
“What would you do instead?”
Victoria hesitated, then leaned forward and lowered her voice, not sure why she suddenly felt the need to admit the truth.
Maybe it was to get back at her mother, or maybe it was something about Cindy. “You can’t tell anyone, but I’m writing a screenplay.”
“You are? That’s amazing. I’ve never known a screenwriter before. Is it difficult to do?”
“Some days. I’ve never been an indoor person, if that makes sense. As a kid, I was always doing something, so you’d think
I wouldn’t like writing. But I do. There’s something powerful about connecting my thoughts with what’s on the computer screen.
I’ve taken a few workshops, and I’m in a critique group, which can be brutal but is also how I get better.” She smiled. “I’m
on my fourth draft, and I finally feel like it’s all coming together.”
“How exciting. What will you do when it’s done?”
“Give it to my dad to read. He loves me, but I trust him to be honest and maybe a little too honest. If he thinks it’s any
good, I’ll find an agent and have them shop it around. In the meantime, I’ll start my next one.”
“That’s so exciting. You have a plan.”
“Kind of. We’ll see.”
“So you’re going to give up the stunt work?”
“I haven’t decided completely, but I’m leaning in that direction.” She wanted to ask Cindy not to tell Ava but figured that
would make her sound strange. Plus it wasn’t as if the two older women were friends.
“Your interest in the movie business makes sense,” Cindy told her. “Your dad’s such an important executive at the studio.
I remember when I first found out what he did.” She laughed. “Actually, he told me he was a studio executive, and I had no
idea what he was talking about. Ava had to explain it to me.”
Her tone turned wistful. “He was the first movie person I’d met, and I guess the only one. Until you.”
“I don’t count,” Victoria told her with a smile.
“You do. So now I’ve doubled the number of movie people I know. It’s nice.” The smile returned. “Before, when I was pregnant,
your mom offered to take me to a Hollywood party to meet famous people, but I was too uncomfortable to go. I was seventeen
and nearly eight months along. I didn’t think I’d fit in. My dad and I lived a very different life than your parents.”
“You’d just lost your mom, hadn’t you?” Victoria asked. “I remember Shannon mentioning that.”
“The year before. I’m sure that’s why I was so irresponsible and slept with that boy. It wasn’t as if I was in love with him.
I think I just wanted to connect with someone.”