Chapter 6 Vance #2
A few minutes later, they started to film. I stayed just outside camera range to watch. Honestly, I couldn’t look away. Audiences were going to love her.
“This kitchen will become the heart of Vance’s home,” Lila was saying as the camera rolled. “A space for family. Friends. Mornings with jazz and coffee. Dinners with wine and laughter.”
She looked luminous beneath the camera lights—calm, confident, glowing. Born for this.
“After meeting with Vance, I had some ideas to make his childhood home his own,” she continued.
“He spent many years in France and asked if I could blend a French aesthetic with the coast. I immediately saw it in my mind—a space that makes anyone who enters feel calm and relaxed. Like waking up on a quiet summer morning in Provence.”
The director called “Cut,” and the crew swarmed in. They rearranged a few of the boards. More powder for Lila. A flower arrangement moved to a different spot. Lighting adjusted.
One of the producers glanced at me. “She’s really good at this.”
“She really is.” Beautiful, poised, articulate. How was it possible to fall in love with a woman this quickly? But that’s where I was headed. And I wasn’t even trying to stop it.
Kenzie appeared beside me, watching Lila with an intensity that made me uneasy.
“She photographs well,” Kenzie said. “Very natural. Authentic.” The way she said authentic sounded almost mocking. “The network’s going to want more of her. A lot more.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Depends.” Kenzie tilted her head. “On whether she can handle the pressure. The scrutiny. Having her whole life examined.” She glanced at me. “Her daughter. Her past. Her relationships. It all becomes public property.”
My hands curled into fists. “That sounds like a threat.”
“Not a threat. Just reality.” Kenzie’s smile was cool and deliberate. “This is what she signed up for. What you both signed up for. The network owns the narrative now.”
She walked away before I could respond.
I watched Lila on camera, talking about creating sanctuary and home, and a chill crept up my spine. Someone needed to protect her from whatever Kenzie was planning. And I knew it had to be me.
After wrapping my final scenes until the big reveal, I was at Lila’s for dinner.
Mia and I sat at the island while Lila threw together a quick pasta dish with fresh peas and chunks of ham.
It felt so normal to be here with them—comfortable in a way that had nothing to do with food or conversation.
I didn’t fully understand it, but it was true.
It had been three days since the last day of filming.
Ironically, though my home was about to star in a reality television show, I still didn’t have a house ready to bring Margot home to.
Begrudgingly, Nicole had provided me two additional days to find something—before picking up Margot—and I was still searching.
I’d tried unsuccessfully to find a rental, but there was nothing in Willet Cove that suited my needs—or that would let me move in immediately.
I vacillated between renting rooms at the inn for Margot and me or just staying in the tiny apartment until my house was ready.
In the end, I decided it was best to bring Margot home to the apartment.
I wasn’t sure what her life had been like with Nicole, but surely we could manage in six hundred square feet for a few months.
“I’ve been thinking about Margot’s room,” Lila said as she tossed the ham into the sauce. “Little girls have a lot of opinions when it comes to their bedrooms. After she gets settled, maybe you can bring her to my studio. She can show me colors she likes and tell me about her activities.”
“That’s a great idea, Mom,” Mia said. “She’s ten, so she won’t want it to be too babyish. At least, that’s how I was.”
“That was the year you asked me to change your décor,” Lila said. “From pink and unicorns to lavender and twinkly lights.”
“And the bunk bed,” Mia said. “So I could have Annie and Grace over.”
“I’ve no idea what Margot likes,” I admitted, the anxious pit in my stomach deepening. “She was four the last time I was with her. She liked dolls.” I smiled at the memory. “We had a lot of tea parties with a little porcelain set I found at a vintage store in Paris.”
“When do you go get her?” Mia asked.
“Tomorrow. I’m driving up to Cliffside Bay in the morning,” I said.
Mia tapped my shoulder with her elbow. “Don’t worry. You got this.”
“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I hope so.”
“Does your ex post about Margot on Insta or anything?” Mia asked. “My dad’s wife’s constantly posting photos of herself with the girls.”
Lila rolled her eyes but didn’t comment as she dumped cooked fettuccine into the sauce.
“I’m blocked, so I don’t know,” I said.
“Hold on. I’ll find her,” Mia said, grabbing her phone and typing Nicole’s name. “Yep, here she is. Oh my God, she’s the worst.” She handed me her phone. “She’s so cringey.”
I scrolled through the carefully curated feed. Her bio read: Living my best life. Mama to the sweetest girl. Fitness | Wellness | Authentic Living.
“God, she’s such a phony,” I muttered.
Three days ago: Nicole in a white bikini on a yacht, wind in her hair, champagne glass raised. Finally taking time for ME. Self-care isn’t selfish, it’s necessary. Sometimes mama needs to recharge! #SelfCareSunday #SingleMomLife #LivingMyTruth #Blessed.
427 likes.
Five days ago: Nicole and a handsome man—Derek, presumably—at an expensive restaurant, her hand prominently displayed with a massive diamond ring. When you finally find someone who sees YOU, not just “mom.” Here’s to new beginnings and the love I deserve. #EngagedLife #NewChapter #SecondChances.
612 likes.
A week ago: Nicole in yoga pants and a sports bra, mid-pose in a luxury studio. Namaste. Finding my center through the chaos. Motherhood is beautiful, but it’s okay to prioritize yourself too. You can’t pour from an empty cup! #YogaLife #WellnessJourney #SelfLove.
384 likes.
Then, scattered among the self-portraits—
Two weeks ago: Margot at a park swing, smiling for the camera, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. My mini me! She’s growing up so fast. Being a single mom isn’t easy, but seeing her smile makes it all worth it. #MyWholeWorld #Blessed.
203 likes.
Three weeks ago: Margot in a pink dance costume, holding a pose. So proud of my baby girl! She amazes me every day. This mama’s heart is so full. #ProudMama #DanceMom #MiniMe.
156 likes.
A month ago: Margot holding a watercolor painting of flowers, forced smile, standing in front of a white wall. My little artist! Look what she made for mama. I’m raising such a creative soul. #ProudMom #ArtistInTheMaking #MyGirl.
189 likes.
I scrolled further back. The pattern was clear—ten posts about Nicole’s life, her body, her yoga, her brunches, her new relationship. Then one token photo of Margot, always framed to make Nicole look like Mother of the Year.
And in every shot of Margot, if you looked closely, you could see it: the tension in her small shoulders, the sadness in her eyes, the way she held herself like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.
“She acts like Margot’s her whole world, but I know better,” I said.
“Vance, no offense, but that’s obvious to everyone,” Mia said. “She’s that type. Loves attention and showing off her body. We know girls like that at school.”
“I know some grown-up ones too.” Lila came around the island to look at the screen, her expression tightening. “That poor baby. She’s being used as a prop.”
I kept scrolling, my chest aching. There was my daughter—scattered among her mother’s curated life, existing only when it made Nicole look good.
“Look at this one,” I said, holding up the phone for Mia to see the watercolor painting. “It seems like she’s into art.”
“I love art too,” Mia said shyly, gesturing at the sketch pad she carried everywhere. “Maybe she’ll want to hang out and draw or paint with me.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I said, eyes stinging. “You’re sweet to offer.”
“Okay, cool,” Mia said. “Maybe an easel for her room? Like a little art corner?”
“Absolutely,” Lila said. “What else does she like? Can you tell from any of the other photos?”
“Yeah, it looks like she’s into dance.” I showed them a picture of Margot wearing a pink leotard and ballet slippers.
“We’ll get her enrolled at Gillian’s studio,” Lila said. “That way she’ll meet some other kids before school starts.”
I startled. School. I hadn’t even thought about school. I had to get her enrolled—and I had no idea how.
“What is it?” Lila asked, crinkling her nose.
“I forgot about school,” I said, wincing. “I’ve no idea how to even start.”
“It’s easy,” Lila said. “You just go down to the district office and fill out the paperwork.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, that’s good. I can do that.”
“School starts in two weeks,” Mia said. “So you’ve got time. But she’ll need clothes. Fourth grade, right?”
I nodded.
“Okay, well, I can help with that,” Mia said. “She’ll want to fit in.”
“Don’t I want her to stand out?” I asked.
“Maybe, but she doesn’t. Kids just want to blend in,” Mia said.
“If you’d like to take her shopping, I’d appreciate it,” I said. “I have no idea what little girls wear.”
“I got you,” Mia said with confidence.
Lila was plating the pasta, and Mia jumped up to set the table without being asked. This kid was kind and thoughtful—like her mother. Lila had done such a good job with her.
And I was about to find out what happened to a sweet little girl raised by Nicole. I had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to be easy.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number with a link. I clicked it without thinking. Another gossip post. This one had multiple photos—Lila and Beau during filming, laughing together. The caption: Sparks Flying on Set of New Design Show.
“What is it?” Lila asked, noticing my expression.
I showed her. Her face went pale.
“That’s from today’s filming. How did they get these so fast?”
“Someone’s feeding them information,” I said grimly.
Mia looked over my shoulder. “That’s creepy. Who would do that?”
“Someone who wants to create drama,” Lila said quietly. “Someone on the production team.”
I thought about Kenzie’s satisfied smile earlier—the way she’d shown me that first blog post like it was good news.
“Kenzie,” I said.
“Is this what they do?” Lila asked. “Just make things up?”
“I don’t know. But it sure seems like it.” I deleted the text. “We should be careful around her.”
Lila nodded, though I could see the worry in her eyes.
“Don’t worry, Vance,” Mia said, hugging me suddenly. “You’ve got us to help.”
I met Lila’s eyes over the top of Mia’s head. She nodded. “That’s right. Whatever you need, we’re here.”
A peace settled over me. I did have them. Dorian too. And, of course, my mother. I could do this. I had to.