Our characters had somewhat paved the way for us. A relationship seemed like a natural next step. Now that I thought about it, I’d never dated anyone in my adult life, that hadn’t been my co-star.
I wasn’t even sure what the protocol was. Not that I wanted to date the man that I kept stealing glances at. I was barely out of my relationship. I’d ended it with a text less than twenty-four hours before. But I felt drawn to this man in an inexplicable way.
All I wanted to do was go up and say hi to him. But for that, I’d need a couple more shots.
“You want another drink?” Gam questioned.
“Yep.” I walked to the table where Mrs. Porter was manning the drink station. “Can I get another punch?”
My Gam’s friend dipped the ladle into the large clear bowl. As she handed it to me, her eyes narrowed. “I feel like I should cut you off.”
I laughed, playing it off like a joke as I took the cup from her hand. The truth was, I should probably be cutting myself off. I was a lightweight. One glass of wine with dinner and I was tipsy. And now I’d had four shots, on an empty stomach, and I hadn’t slept in over thirty-six hours.
“I’ll be right back. I need to go check my messages.” I wobbled on my wedges as I started to walk to the hall to spike my drink.
“Dixie, what’s in this punch?” I heard Gam ask behind me.
“7UP and raspberry sherbet.”
And vodka. That was the special ingredient. One that I planned on adding right now.
“Maybe she’s lactose intolerant.” I heard Gam suggest.
“I think it’s more like alcohol intolerant.” Dixie said.
I didn’t pay any attention to it and continued on. When I got to the hall, I glanced around to make sure the coast was clear and pulled my last two bottles of Absolute out of my purse. After twisting off the caps, I poured them both in my punch.
I’d just taken my first sip when I felt a tap on my shoulder. When I turned around, I saw a woman I didn’t recognize. “Hello.”
“Hey darlin’, I’m Tami Lynn.” She held out her hand, her fingers were tipped with extra-long red acrylic nails.
“Hi, Tami Lynn.”
“I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan! I’ve watched every episode of Sunset Bay, even before you were on the show. I used to tape it on my VCR but now I just set my TV to record them. Can I just say, and not because I know your kinfolk, that you are the best thing to ever happen to that show! No matter how bonkers the storylines are that they give you, you make them feel real.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, feeling my cheeks heat again. Unlike Gen, who welcomed praise for her performances, I felt odd receiving compliments on my job. Yes, I was proud of the work that I did on Sunset Bay, but I felt like I had so much more to give. The show was challenging, but not in the way that I wanted it to be.
I felt like I’d done everything I could with my character. I’d had amnesia, been kidnapped, battled mental illness, had a baby by my husband’s twin brother, been a drug addict and been in recovery.
I walked back inside the reception but before I got too far, Tami Lynn stopped me again.
“I hate to bother you, but can I get a picture, darlin’?”
“Sure,” I agreed.
She stepped beside me and held her phone out. I angled my shoulders and made sure to jut my chin out just a little bit as I tilted my head to the side. Over the ten years since I’d started getting recognized, I’d perfected this pose. It was the optimal angle for someone with a round face like mine.
She snapped several pictures and then lowered her voice. “Your grandma told me about your troubles. I just wanted to let ya know, that man isn’t worth your tears. I always loved Trent, but if he can’t keep it in his pants, he has to go. You deserve better.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t point out that it was Drake and not Trent that should keep his dick in his pants.
Fans blurred the lines of character and real-life people all the time, especially when you are in their homes every single day. They feel like they know you, or should I say they feel like they know your character. If I had a