Plot Twist(47)

“Your dress.” He pulled away from her and there was a large wet stain across her shoulder.

“There are jackets for this exact kind of thing.” She stroked a hand through his hair. “Dash, look at me.”

And he looked, because when it came to his mother, he tended to do whatever she told him.

“I love you very much.” Her eyes held his there, and for a moment, he wondered if this would be the Hallmark moment that some people in AA experienced when they spoke their truth.

This, however, was Kitty Montrose, and she didn’t do sappy. “There’s no nice way to say this, so I’m just going to have to say it. This night is not about you, Dash.”

The words slammed into him, like an accusation that he’d somehow tried to take away attention from his brother. He hadn’t even wanted to come. He’d been asked to attend, and now his mom was suggesting he’d intentionally tried to make this about him?

“I know that,” he quickly fired back.

“Tonight is about Reece. This may be one of the biggest moments of his career—the start of an action franchise, just as your father had—and we can’t have it overshadowed by what’s going on with you.”

His jaw set tight. He wanted to leave. He wanted to be home and away from the chaos his family always managed to bring with them.

“I’ll go,” he said. He moved to brush past her, but she stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“You’re going to come out of this bathroom, and when you do, a PA will lead you out a back door where there will be a car waiting. The car will take you home, and I will tell your brother that you weren’t feeling well. Then you and I will talk on Friday. I will handle this.”

He didn’t know what to say. She’d planned the whole thing before even coming into the bathroom, already certain that Dash couldn’t continue to be there. Already knowing or thinking that he would cause a scene and ruin the whole night for their family, tarnish the golden reputation she’d built for them.

Dash was the problem. He was the person always threatening to ruin something, and he didn’t belong anywhere near them.

All he could do was give her a single nod in return. She squeezed his shoulder, though any warmth was gone as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The PA was waiting for him, just as his mom had promised. And his dad also stood there, in a gray fitted suit, but his normally bright eyes were dull and creased with concern. Dash glanced at him briefly, then looked away, not wanting to see any more judgment than he’d already received from his mother. He pursed his lips and followed the PA toward a door down the hall.

“Son.” He turned at his dad’s voice.

Dash opened his mouth, but before he could answer, his mom called out, “William.”

They both turned. She met them, grabbed William’s arm, and whispered into his ear. His dad hesitated as he looked to Kitty, then Dash. Eventually he grabbed Dash to bring him in for a hug.

Dash had not been hugged by his dad since...well, he couldn’t remember when. And he stood frozen to the spot as he let his dad embrace him. “Your mother means well, even though it doesn’t feel that way all the time. I hope you know that. She assured me we’ll fight this.” Then his dad pulled back but said into his ear, “Be strong.”

Yes, Be strong, Dash. Words he’d heard so many times when he didn’t want to be on set, or auditioning for a role, or at some event he’d been asked to attend. Dash shoved down whatever hesitations he had, turned away from his parents, and walked toward the open door that would take him home.



19

SOPHIE

Sophie should’ve gone home. But she’d already waited two hours, so what was one more?

She sat on a bench as the summer heat burned the concrete and sent warmth up through the soles of her sandals. Even the shade from the overhead palms that lined the sidewalk didn’t provide any kind of relief. She was outside Formosa Cafe, a historic landmark that was a restaurant and bar. The interior was all wood paneling, terrazzo floors, and red booths that gave off a classic Hollywood vibe, which was fitting, since stars like James Dean and Ava Gardner used to drink there. Sophie had also drunk at the bar before, and she could use one of their green tea martinis to cool down.

But today the spot served as a shooting space for her sister’s show, Second Chance Kitchen. Enormous production trucks lined Santa Monica Boulevard, the backs of them open and carrying electrical equipment. There was also a wardrobe truck filled with outfit options for Nina, and a hair-and-makeup trailer for the cast.

And while Sophie wasn’t sure where her sister was, she planned to wait so they could finally talk out the mess she’d made.

“Can I help you with something?” a cheery voice asked.

Sophie eyed the guy in his early twenties, who was short with the most gorgeous dark curls she’d ever seen. He held a latte with her sister’s name written on the side in one hand, and a clipboard in the other. She guessed he was part of the crew.

“I’m Sophie Lyon,” she replied. “Nina’s sister?” She said the last part as a question because, really, would Nina still be calling her a sister at this point or something less nice? Like, Most Likely to Spill Your Secrets after a Glass of Wine, for example.

“Oh, shit!” He covered his mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry, I just recognized you.”