Eight Seconds to Glory
Dolly Beckett
“Preston,” I call again, grabbing the doorknobs and shaking them, even though I know it’s locked. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he says through the doors. “But it’s for the best. You’ll see, Doll.”
“Let me out right this minute,” I demand, pounding my fists on the door.
“I’m going to check on the old man,” he says. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
“In the morning?” I ask incredulously. “Are you kidding? This isn’t a game, Preston. I came home to see my dad. Now let me out.”
There’s a pause, and then I hear the door creak as he leans against it, a thump like he’s let his head fall against the heavy wood.
“I tried to be your Prince Charming, Dolly. I really tried. But you leave me no choice but to be the villain.”
I picture him on the other side, his forehead resting against it, and my chest aches despite my anger. I step closer, touching my fingertips to the wooden surface.
“Preston… You don’t have to do this. Please don’t.”
“Maybe that’s who I always was,” he says. “I can’t fight fate anymore, Doll. This is who I am now. You’ll learn to live with it, just like I have.”
“I don’t care about your face,” I say quietly. “That’s not who you are. Choosing to do this, though… That says a lot about who you are. You can still do the right thing, Preston. Just open the door.”
“I promised I wouldn’t ask you to stay,” he says. “So I’m not asking.”
“Let me out!” I yell, slamming my palm on the inside of the door.
In answer, I hear only the quiet scuff of a footstep, and then silence. Those damn light-footed Darlings. I can’t even hear him leaving. I bang on the door with both fists, but he doesn’t return.
When I tire myself out, I stand there a minute trying to keep my wits about me. He didn’t take my purse, which means he left me my phone. That calms me a little. He can’t mean to keep me here for anything dangerous if he’s letting me have contact with the outside world.
Using the screen for illumination, I search around for the lights, since I’ve never been up here when there wasn’t a party in progress. When I find them, I turn them on, use the dimmer to lower them to a faint glow, and sit down to think through my predicament.
This side of the house is where the Darlings entertained guests, held business meetings, and participated in other behind-closed-doors activities.
We weren’t allowed through the double doors leading to this wing of the house when we were kids.
It wasn’t until I was a teenager, dating Devlin, that I gained entrance to the east wing and realized the full extent of the Darlings’ debauchery.
They had parties with strippers, orgies, and drugs—all things I didn’t know existed in our little town when I was younger, and which my parents surely didn’t know I had access to when I went to parties with Devlin.
Hollywood’s not the first place I don’t fit in.
If I’m honest, that was a huge part of why I loved Devlin, though, why I loved being his girl.
With him, I didn’t have to fit in. I didn’t have to change who I was to be accepted.
I would have stayed on his arm forever if he’d loved me.
Fame was never part of the equation then.
Maybe Preston’s right. Maybe I did follow someone else’s dream.
But I also wanted to prove I was something worthwhile on my own, not because I was a Darling Doll.
I wanted to be Dolly Beckett, someone the world couldn’t throw away as easily as Devlin did.
I’m no longer the life-sized Barbie girl he played with.
I’m a woman who wears black because it’s slimming, one who does what she has to do to get ahead in her career.
I check the time on my phone. It’s only eight, though it feels later, since it gets dark so early this time of year. I slip off my shoes and wander to the window on bare feet while I make the call. When Dad doesn’t answer, I dial Mama’s number.
“Hey there, baby doll,” she greets me. “How’s my famous daughter?
You know, I’ve already heard your song on the radio twice since we talked.
I’m so proud of you I could just about bust. I knew you were going to make it big.
I could just feel it, ever since you were little.
Remember when you wanted to be a ballerina? ”
“Hi, Mama,” I say, closing my eyes. “I might need some help.”
“Oh, sure thing, sweetheart,” she says. “I’m glad you called, actually.
I don’t know if you talked to your daddy this week, he was supposed to call you, but you know how he is.
But we talked, and we thought it might be better if you stayed in LA this year.
I know it’s a disappointment, but me and Randy are already in Orlando with the kids, and your daddy’s gotten himself into a situation back in Faulkner… ”
“I heard,” I say, rubbing my temple. “So you’re already gone?”
“Yeah, we got Randy’s kids again this year,” she says.
“Their mama was supposed to have ‘em for Christmas, but you know how she is. She’s really something else, let me tell you. I just didn’t have the heart to see them sittin’ at home playing video games over the holidays while we ran off on vacation, so we got ‘em tickets for the cruise and added in a few days for Disney beforehand.”
“That’s real sweet of you, Mama.” My mother’s got the world’s biggest, softest heart. Not every stepmom would take her husband’s kids on what was supposed to be a romantic getaway just because she was afraid they’d be bored at home.
“I hope you didn’t already get tickets to your daddy’s for Christmas,” she says. “You could join us, but I don’t know if a bus could get clear across the country from California by the time the cruise leaves. If you want to fly, I’m sure we could get you an extra ticket for the cruise, though.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” Mama’s far away and I don’t want her to worry. Knowing her, she’d hop on a flight home and make a big deal of this, even though I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own. “Where’s Peanut Butter?”
“She’s at home with a pet sitter,” Mama assures me. “She’ll miss you, but she’ll be alright. She loves the sitter. We’ve had her watch the house before when we were gone.”
“Thanks,” I say, dropping my forehead against the glass and taking a breath. “Enjoy your vacation, Mama. You deserve it. And Merry Christmas.”
“We’ll talk again on Christmas,” she says. “You make sure to go to some big, glamorous Hollywood party. And send me pictures! Especially if you see any of the boys from Just 5 Guys.”
“They broke up,” I remind her.
“Well, I know that,” she says with a little laugh. “But you have the same manager they did. Maybe he’ll invite Brody Villines, and you’ll get to meet him. Though he should be the one asking you for a selfie now. I can’t believe it. My daughter, the star.”
“Goodnight, Mama,” I say. “Enjoy Disney World. And say hi to the family for me.”
I hang up and stand at the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the estate, battling the memories of the night the Dolce boys threw fireworks through the glass, filling the room with smoke and screams. I’d been sleeping with the twins until a month or so before that, even though they were way too young for me.
But they were already the kind of boys who won the genetics jackpot, over six feet tall and looking like full-grown men.
They pursued me, and they were hot and new and exciting, and best of all, Devlin didn’t like them.
I’d only been with him before that—as far as I knew.
I was a good girl. The worst thing I’d ever done was give in to Preston that one time, the night of the breakup.
Okay, so that was pretty bad. It was an unspeakable betrayal to sleep with a guy’s cousin, even if we weren’t together.
My parents had assured me Devlin would come around after graduation and marry me, and I knew he’d never touch me again if he found out what I’d done with Preston.
Hooking up with his enemy carried the same thrill but none of the guilt. Plus, I thought seeing me with someone else might drive Devlin batty, and his possessive instinct would kick in, and he’d fight for me. Saving myself for when he realized I was the one sure hadn’t done the trick.
Suddenly here came these worldly, experienced, city boys who offered everything a small-town girl who’s sick of doing the right thing for no reward could want.
I was probably long overdue for some bad choices and teenage rebellion.
I’d never in my life imagined myself as the kind of girl who would have a threesome.
It was exciting to see myself as something more than I’d always been, someone more like Destiny, wild and daring.
It didn’t bring Devlin back, but it sure got Preston’s attention.
I’ll never stop wondering if that’s why he went for the twins that night, the night they put out his eye. Is it my fault he’s the way he is today?
I sit down and rest my back on the cool glass and call Dad again, pushing the past back where it belongs.
“Hey there, hon,” Dad answers. “I’ve been meaning to call you. How’s my little girl?”
“Haven’t been little for a long time, Dad,” I say, leaning my head back on the window. “I just talked to Mama.”
“Well, shoot,” he says. “I was supposed to call you, but I forgot, what with everything happening here. I guess she told you all about that, huh? Leave it to your mother to do anything she can to make me look bad.”
“She didn’t say anything bad about you,” I assure him. “She just said you had a lot going on and might want me to stay in California for the holidays.”