Chapter 8 Tori
Tori
“Would you believe me if I told you it was because I stress ate a bacon cheeseburger?”
Hailey stared at me, clearly waiting for the punchline. I was pretty sure she thought I was insane, and I couldn’t blame her. The ridiculousness of my circumstances coupled with the intense draw I felt toward her made this all that much more complicated.
I hadn’t planned to come in. I thought I’d give her the money and be on my way. But then I passed out and when I woke up, I looked deep into her eyes – filled with a concern that literally no one in my life had ever shown me since my grandfather died – and I fell in love.
At least I’m pretty sure I did. I’d never been in love before, but based on this combination of nausea, a warm sensation in my chest, and the way every time I looked at Hailey images of a life together flashed in front of my eyes, it was definitely love.
I couldn’t believe she didn’t know who I was, but I believed it was true.
No one was that good of an actress, not even me.
And when she thought I was still passed out, she wasn’t snapping pics on her cell phone to sell to TMZ, she was making sure I was okay.
Well, and checking out my breasts. I didn’t mind though. I’d paid good money for them.
So I did something I never did. Something I hoped I wouldn’t regret later. I decided to trust her.
“My real name is Victoria Cross,” I began, watching her carefully.
Nothing. Not a flicker of awareness in her face.
“I’m an actress.”
She didn’t look impressed.
“I grew up starring on a show called Hey, Vicky on Nickelodeon. It was the number one kids’ show in America for years.”
Hailey looked thoughtful. “Oh. That’s the show you mentioned earlier, right?”
I nodded.
“Are you still performing on that show?” she asked. I loved the way she said ‘performing’ like it was a play or a variety show. I guess she really didn’t watch TV.
“No. Once I grew breasts they weren’t interested in me for kids’ programming anymore, so I transitioned to movies,” I explained. “I’ve been in a lot of romcoms and also starred in the Susie Sniper action film series.”
She shrugged, telling me that she wasn’t familiar with that show either.
“Surely you’ve seen my face on magazines? Like when you’re in line at the supermarket?”
“I get most of my food from a member co-op. They don’t have magazines there.”
How could this woman even be real?
When I took too long to continue she prompted, “What does some people watching your movies have to do with a bacon cheeseburger?
I ate another bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was a revelation. Having grown up in front of the camera and been raised by a mother with an obsession with thinness, I’d never been able to eat what I wanted. I remember learning how to count calories when I was seven years old.
I could almost feel my mother shuddering down in L.A., somehow knowing I was eating something with fat and carbs. The woman hadn’t eaten a carb since the nineteen seventies. We didn’t talk much anymore, but the lessons she’d taught me were hard to escape.
“From a young age, I was a brand. And part of my brand was being a vegetarian, committed to healthy eating, living on water and cigarettes.”
“You smoke?” she asked in shock, as if I’d said I murdered baby seals and used their fat to make moisturizer.
“Not anymore,” I told her. “Anyway, I’ve been at a crossroads with my career.
Not happy with where I’m going, but it’s hard for me to think about doing something different because so many people’s livelihoods depend on me.
I got really upset two days ago, and on impulse I drove through a fast food place and bought a bacon double cheeseburger and a chocolate shake. ”
I could tell by the look on her face that she still wasn’t seeing what the problem was.
“I’m known for being against fast food,” I explained. “And meat.”
“There’s nothing wrong with an occasional treat,” she said. “In moderation.”
“Well, the food smelled really good, so I drove to the far side of the parking lot by some trees so I could eat it sooner. I incorrectly thought no one recognized me or saw me eating in the car, but of course the paparazzi were around, and some vulture got pictures of me shoveling all that food into my mouth as fast as I could.”
I winced, remembering the next part. “I never eat like that, and I binged it all so fast I made myself sick. They also got pictures of me leaning out of my car door barfing.”
“Oh. That sucks,” she said sympathetically. “No one looks good in that scenario.”
“There are stories everywhere about how I lied about being a vegetarian, how I’m bulimic and people have been worried about my eating disorder for years.”
“Have they?” she asked.
“First of all, no one in Hollywood is worried about anyone besides themselves. Secondly, I’ve mostly never been allowed to eat, so when I can, I’m definitely not voluntarily puking it up.”
She was quiet as I finished my sandwich, eating slowly so my stomach wouldn’t revolt again.
“Now you’re hiding until this all blows over, is that it?”
“Yeah. You’re welcome to log on and verify my story.”
“I don’t have internet here,” she said.
My mouth dropped open. “No TV. No internet. Please tell me you have a cell phone.”
She looked sheepish. “I have a basic smart phone for emergencies. And for talking to my mom.”
“And you thought I was the one who was Amish,” I teased.
She smiled then, and I lost my train of thought. She really was beautiful. Sassy, but completely free of artifice. I wanted to keep her forever, even though I knew a woman like this would get eaten alive in my world.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up Wikipedia.
The first thing I saw was a picture of me at the Academy Awards.
I was wearing a long blue dress, one shoulder bare, my hair pulled back in a tight bun, looking like the perfect ice queen.
It was the same picture that had been on news sites everywhere the week it was taken.
“Here.”
She took my phone from me, her eyes moving quickly as she started scrolling through the information on the page. Then she held the phone up, looking between the screen and me.
“You look better without all that makeup,” she said softly.
Another thing I’d never heard in Hollywood.
My phone beeped in her hand, making both of us jump.
“Your mother wants to know where you are,” she said, handing it back.
I pressed ignore and put my phone away. “It’s best she doesn’t. She likes to leak information about me to the media. It keeps her relevant.”
If she noticed the bitterness in my voice, she didn’t comment. Instead Hailey gave me a long, considering look.
“If you’re going to stay here tonight, you’re going to need to pull your weight.”
For some reason I thought it was a test.
I straightened in my chair. “Okay. Tell me what you need.”