Now That I've Found You - Kristina Forest Page 0,8

re-creating it and mocking me. It was like revenge for mocking Paul Christopher. Someone even turned my apology video into a GIF, and it exploded all over Twitter. The jokes went on and on, and I read every single one.

I deleted all of my social media after that. We decided the best course of action would be no more public statements. I’d already apologized to Paul and his team, and I’d put out a video, even if it was a bad idea. I just needed to lie low for a few weeks until things died down. It soon became very clear that no one else in Hollywood would want to work with me. We couldn’t get any meetings, and no one would send Kerri scripts for me to read. The endorsement deals I had fell through. It was a nightmare.

Now it seems like we might be coming out on the other side, but I won’t know if that’s true until I talk to Gigi.

Kerri helps me put on the wig cap and wig. I run my fingers through the wig until the hair falls smooth and straight, and I slide on the sunglasses and baseball cap. The cap does not go with the black-and-white Peter Pan–collar dress that I’m wearing, but I can’t bring myself to care.

“Gigi used to do this,” I suddenly say, looking at my reflection in my front-facing camera.

Kerri tilts her head. “Used to do what?”

“She would wear disguises when we went out together because she didn’t want to be recognized. One time, when she was still living in LA, she took me to the drive-in movie theater, and she wore this long platinum wig and a huge beach hat. I mean, in all honesty, it made people look at her even more. But they never would have guessed that she was Evelyn Conaway behind the disguise.”

I laugh a little to myself at the memory. It’s ironic, really. I’ve always wanted to be more like Gigi, and this is the way in which I’m like her.

“She sounds wonderful.” Kerri’s smile is sad. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

The rest of the ride to LAX is quiet. When Kerri and I get out of the car, the paparazzi waiting outside glance at us but look away, uninterested.

“That’s good,” Kerri mumbles. “They have no idea who you are.”

She walks with me to security and stops because she can’t go any farther. I turn to her to say goodbye, and I’m surprised when she reaches out and hugs me. Kerri, who finds physical contact to be highly unprofessional. Her hug is so warm and tight, unlike the hugs I received from my parents.

“You’ve got this,” she whispers fiercely. She pulls away and stares me dead in the eyes. “Look at me. You’ve got this.”

I start sniffling and wipe my face as tears run down my cheeks.

“Thanks, Kerri.” I take a deep breath and force myself to stop crying. She gives my shoulder a tight squeeze and waits to leave until I pass through security. I turn around and wave at her. She smiles and gives a thumbs-up.

I wish I could be as positive as her. But I don’t have this. I have nothing. No fans. No career. No friends. My best friend was the one who did this to me. Looking back, maybe I should have seen it coming. The signs were all there. I was just willfully oblivious.

That might be the worst part about all of this. That, or the news I’m bringing to Gigi’s doorstep. I just hope she understands. My entire career is on the line.

I’ve survived the world hating me, but I couldn’t take it if Gigi hated me too.

Chapter Three

There’s no one waiting to pick me up at JFK.

I step outside and search for Gigi’s driver, Frank, who drives a black Mercedes. But he isn’t here. New York in the middle of August is no joke. I haven’t visited during the summer in years, and I’m clearly not used to it. It’s so hot out that heat rises off the concrete in waves. My scalp is sweating, and I can’t wait to take off this freaking hat and wig. After a few seconds in the heat, I quickly walk back inside through the revolving doors. I’d rather not melt before I even make it to Gigi’s.

“Ma’am, do you need help?”

I blink and turn to see an airport employee staring at me. She’s white and tall, with a wide and friendly smile. “Do you need to