on my stomach, kicking my feet in the air. “I really do.”
“Mark wants me to record the vocals for ‘Cry It Out’.”
“No way! Really?” My nose scrunches up. “How’d Jacob take that?”
He huffs a laugh. “Not well.”
“You don’t think it’s going to make him start using again, do you?”
“Jesus, I hope not. I wouldn’t do it if I thought it would fuck him up that much.”
Chaser has more faith in Jacob than I do. And I’m worried about Chaser when they go back on the road. “Just…be careful.”
“You know I will. I still haven’t decided how I feel about it or if I’m going to even do it yet.”
“I think you should. The song’s personal to you.”
“Tell me what crazy shit happened on Shallow End this week.”
“Then I’ll spoil the show for you!”
“Trust me, your version and what’s shown on screen are entirely different things.”
I snort-laugh into the phone. “Well, Billie’s recovered from her demonic possession.”
“Naturally.”
“And she gives a stern lecture to two rival gangs that helps them end their feud.”
He roars with laughter. “Priceless.”
“I thought so too.”
“Sounds like Billie’s getting a lot of attention, is that driving Pamela nuts?”
I frown but instead of brushing it aside, say exactly what’s on my mind. “Why do you care about Pamela’s feelings?”
“I don’t. I’m worried that if she’s not the center of attention, she’ll try to stir up trouble for you.”
“Oh.” I pick at a loose thread in the comforter. “I didn’t tell her anything about what happened.”
“Good, I never told Andrew about her phone call.”
“Has she called up there again?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Good.”
“Mallory?”
“What?”
“I don’t want to talk about Pamela. We just wasted at least thirty cents on her, and that’s way too much.”
“Agreed.” I yawn and roll over. “What do you want to talk about?”
“How the first morning I’m home, I plan to wake you up with my tongue in your pussy.”
“Ooo…” I laugh softly. “I’m listening.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Mallory
The call to film the pilot for Ocean Ave. finally comes from Marilyn a few days later.
“I got it! I really got the part?” I shriek.
“Easy, Mallory. It’s just the test pilot. Network still has to decide if they’re going to pick it up.” She pauses. “But Southgate rarely has anything turned down. Everything he touches is gold. He really liked you too.”
“He’s so nice. Everyone there was.”
She snorts. “Don’t get used to it.”
“What do I do about Shallow End?”
“I’ll smooth that over. You say nothing. I don’t want you ending up on no shows. Loose lips sink ships. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
The morning I leave to film the pilot, I find a bright arrangement of sunflowers, and irises sitting on the doorstep. Grinning from ear to ear, I pick them up and bring them inside.
M-
Knock ’em dead.
C
He remembered.
The bouquet is so pretty, I hate leaving it. I check the water and set the vase on the kitchen counter before leaving.
The guard at the gate remembers me from the audition and congratulates me. “Your co-stars are already arriving.” He points to the left. “You can park along that wall. Any spot that isn’t marked ‘reserved.’”
“Thank you!”
Nervous, excited energy bubbles up inside me. I might actually be on another television show.
Overwhelmed, once I find a parking spot, I take a deep breath and tip my head down. “You’re always on my mind and in my heart, Mom. I don’t think I could do this without you watching over me. I hope I make you proud.” How I wish I could share this news with her. She’d be so excited for me and want every little detail. “I miss you,” I whisper.
A knock on my window startles me out of my reverie.
An extremely thin blonde woman peers in through the glass and waves. “Mallory! Right?” she shouts.
I motion that I’m going to open the door and she jumps back.
“I’m Madeline Southgate.” She wraps her arms around me. Strong hugger for such a bony girl.
I awkwardly hug this person I’ve never met before back. “Uh, Mallory Dove.”
“I’m so happy you’re here,” she gushes. “You’re going to love working with my dad. Everyone does.”
Remembering Marilyn’s words about how Madeline only has her part because her father’s the producer, I almost roll my eyes. But, really, who am I to judge? If my father were a famous Hollywood producer—instead of a mob boss parked in federal prison at the moment—I’d probably ask to be cast in his shows too. She’s certainly not trying to hide their relationship, and I actually respect that.