Beyond the Spotlight (The Green River #1)

Prologue

I stared numbly at my reflection in the mirror, trying and failing to find any sort of spark of excitement for the evening ahead. Hell, for life itself.

I was losing myself. I had been for a long time.

“Lucy, are you ready?” Josh’s impatient voice rang from downstairs as I bit back a sigh. I hated these events whose only purpose was to catapult my boyfriend into political power.

I was used as a tool—my looks and charm were a weapon in his arsenal.

My parents were no different. As a former congressman, my father hadn’t lost any of his zeal for rubbing noses with the elite. My mother practically salivated over it. So, when Josh had expressed interest, they’d tripped over themselves to get us together.

At first, when he’d pretended to care about me, about my dreams, I’d liked him, even enough to move in with him. That facade had crumbled faster than his morality.

Now, two years later, I felt like a goldfish in a bowl full of piranhas.

And I was no goddamned goldfish.

“Ready,” I sighed, stepping carefully in my four-inch Manolos as I made my way downstairs.

Josh appraised me with a critical eye as soon as I entered the kitchen where he waited, sipping a whiskey in his tux.

“Have you gained weight?” he demanded, his eyes roving my slim frame.

“No, Josh, I haven’t gained weight.” I rolled my eyes. I might have allowed my life to get away from me, but I was no doormat.

I could also run circles around him.

He looked skeptical before dropping his glass in the sink where I’d no doubt clean it up later. “Well, let’s go then. The car is here.” He took my elbow to guide me toward the door. At least it was the only way he tried to touch me these days.

The fundraising event was full of the who’s who of DC when we walked in. My eyes scanned the room, trying and failing to find anyone I could have a decent conversation with.

Half the people here didn’t know I had a brain in my head, despite having graduated at the top of my class and spending the majority of my childhood as a pianist prodigy—before my parents got too interested and made me hate it. Now I was an editor for one of the top publishing houses in the world.

But I was expected to smile and nod at these things.

Over time, it had become easier to do just that—to retreat into myself. My beloved Aunt Goodie always said I was too good for Josh and my parents anyway.

How she was my father’s sister, neither of us could rationalize.

“I thought you were going to wear the gold dress,” my mother chided by way of greeting as she appeared at my side, looking perfectly done up as always. I swore the woman slept with a full face of makeup.

“Nope,” I answered simply as my father joined us, eyeing the room with a calculated stare. “We need to get Josh over to greet the Ashcrofts,” he muttered. “Oh hello, Lucy,” he added, noticing me for the first time.

“Hello,” I replied stiffly. My dad had never been unkind to me, more quietly aloof. He’d always spoken to me as he would a business associate, even when I was small. Both of my parents had always been uncomfortable around children, which was likely the reason they’d only ever had me.

At least I could respect them for that.

The night dragged on, my feet aching as I forced a smile at the sea of faces who came to speak to Josh or my parents.

“Well, Lucy Kincaid, as I live and breathe,” a familiar voice sounded from my left.

I turned in surprise to find one of my favorite college professors smiling at me.

“Professor Lee, so nice to see you,” I greeted with my first genuine smile of the night. We’d kept in touch here and there since I graduated four years ago. She’d been a mentor and one of the rare sources of support I had in my life.

She smiled warmly at me. “How’s it going with Hawthorne & Row? They’ve made some big bets recently that seem to be paying off.”

“Yes, I’m loving it,” I replied emphatically. “We’ve secured some really exciting new authors recently.”

When the publishing house had recruited me almost directly out of college, I’d jumped at the chance and had never looked back. Though I’d graduated with a major in business, it had been my minor in English that had always called to me, much to my parents’ severe disappointment.

“Mom, Dad, you remember Professor Lee,” I introduced.

“Mm-hmm,” my mom replied airily while my dad just looked confused.

Professor Lee turned to my parents while taking my hand in hers to squeeze. “I was just about to tell Lucy how impressed I’ve been with her work. I’ve read some of the bestsellers she’s had a hand in. Though I’m not surprised by her success, she was one of my top students. You must be very proud.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” my mom replied, ever the diplomat. “If only it didn’t take away from her fundraising responsibilities.” She sighed.

My former professor looked at her quizzically, clearly shocked by my mother’s disregard for my achievements.

And there it was, the straw. I imagined everyone had one, that last straw that sent you over the edge.

And this was mine.

It wasn’t some large to-do or explosive argument. In the end, it was her quiet dismissal that sent a resounding boom of clarity through my system.

I was done.

Done serving Josh’s ambition and their goals for me that had never been what I actually wanted. Done pretending to be a perfect vessel who had no dreams or ambition of my own.

And in being done, in that moment, I was free.