I sat staring at my phone for twenty minutes.

How do I tell Mother I'm leaving for Africa while she's absorbed in wedding arrangements, especially since she knows I am not wholly enamored of Trevor?

The why was a more significant issue—Adele wouldn't buy me suddenly landing a role hundreds of experienced actresses would kill for.

***

"Why don't you look like someone who scored the role of a lifetime?" I glanced into Dean's eyes, the last person on earth I expected to start a conversation with little old me, and my stomach did a little flip.

"Is that seat taken?" He asked, and I shook my head as he settled beside me on the rustic bench under the grand old oak tree.

"My mom owns a restaurant in Boston." Why did I just blurt that out and why did I have the urge to confide in him?

Was I star-struck, or was it the memory of his lips on mine? My knees turned weak, and heat swirled through my abdomen.

The man can fake a kiss.

"Adele Benson, chef extraordinaire and tv personality. It has two Michelin stars and a six-month waiting list, and she opened another in LA."

A frown tugged at my brow.

How did this man know when no one else had figured it out?

Guys were not interested in the lives of girls like me. The conversation seemed unreal, something conjured by my mind, and not staring at him or drooling presented a challenge.

"Adele Benson is quite the chef and visionary. Harris enjoys eating there, although he didn't put two and two together until yesterday, Mirelly knew all along."

His knowledge of Harris was that of a friend, not just an acquaintance, and how had I underestimated Harris' secretary for so long?

"Kelsey followed in Mother's footsteps, but the restaurant business never interested me. Mom wasn't pleased and calls my job 'a little detour to self-discovery.'"

The unexpected bitterness caught me unawares.

When did that happen?

Although those lips pulled into a devastating smile, compassion darkened his gaze.

"Grandma's still waiting for me to get a 'real' job, too, while Mom and dad love to tease her over her 'old-fashioned' views."

His fondness of them warmed the heart.

How was life that unfair? He wasn't only even sexier in real life but a genuinely nice guy.

"While I resemble father's mother, Kelsey, and mother look like siblings. Gorgeous, temperamental, and smart. Not realizing they see me as incapable of tying my shoelaces because type 'A' personalities must control every situation, person, and detail."

More discontentment highlighted every word, and this Karen side of my personality was concerning. He quietly listened, watching my every move with those gorgeous azure eyes and making me feel I needed to fill the silence.

Babbling was not a good look on me.

"Mother had a meltdown Thursday morning, making me late when you and I filmed together." Not a sentence I ever thought to hear myself say. "Trevor forgot to have her ring adjusted, and it's three months before the wedding."

Why did I spill the beans so easily when confiding in people wasn't my normal setting?

"My sister does that, except I don't allow it. You found the path of least resistance that guaranteed peace until realizing it killed you inside. Kudos for stepping out of your comfort zone and asserting yourself."

His intuition was surprising, and it was more than a little intimidating being this close to someone so famous, just talking.

"Thanks."

"Do you cook?"

I shrugged.

"I used to love it, but Mom expected me to be into it and as good as my sister. Everything turned into a competition and a lesson, and it had to be her way or the highway. I was always more into romance than cookbooks."

He grinned, and his dimples robbed me of breath.

"Bet you were good at school."

"Yes, but Kelsey was better. If I got a B, she got an A. If I got an A, she got an A plus, and I tired of being compared to her. She's four years older than me, and I spent my life in her shadow."

Never had I dared say those words aloud, and it was an unexpected catharsis.

"It didn't help that the pudgy baby turned into a thick adult, and people wondered if we were full sisters. Although I was never any good at sports, she excelled at them. Every teacher judged me for not being her and not 'applying' myself."

He listened as if I mattered.

"You really can't see yourself, can you?" he asked, his gaze on me filled with concern and pity. "And be you. Why be anyone else?"

It seemed so odd to have a guy talk to me and not ignore me.

"Why are you so nice to me? And even Harris, why had he changed so much after three years of treating me like a lackey?"

"You're nice, and I like you, but you're seeing what he did in the wrong light—Harris singled you out. He hired you without needing you and, seeing potential in you, kept you around. Did you know he discovered me?"

Our eyes met as I reconsidered many things.

"I was messing around at a friend's house and posted our play on YouTube. Harris somehow saw it and contacted me. Back then, he wasn't a big name yet, but he had connections and sent me for an audition. I got the role."

He shrugged those muscled shoulders, and I tried to ignore that the chemistry between us when we filmed, still existed because he seemed unaware of it.

"I didn't know."

"Harris pays it forward as discreetly as possible." He stood, and shamefully, I wasn't ready for him to leave yet.

What was going on? Starstruck much?

"Don't be afraid to tell Adele the truth, and stop backing down. Stand your ground, stick to your guns, and she'll respect you. You're not a chef, but her daughter, with a mind of your own. See you."

He saluted me with two fingers above his brow and stalked off, and I stared after him before glancing at my phone.

Was he right? Had I diminished myself to avoid confrontation and allowed my mother and sister their way just to keep the peace? Yes, and moving away was easier than facing them.

Was it cowardice? No. They convinced me that I couldn't stand on my own feet.

Even after three years of doing just that, the fear remained that I would fail and slink back with my tail tucked between my legs.

What if I couldn't do what Harris and Dean believed? What if I told my mother about my "fabulous new career," and it bombed?

Hands shaking ever so slightly and that familiar unease curling through my insides, I kept seeing Dean look at me as if he saw something I couldn't.

Before I could chicken out, I dialed the number.

***

"Mom?"

The slight hesitation in my voice caught her attention like a shark drawn to chum.

"Mercedes? Are you ready to be sensible and come home?"

What? My spine stiffened, and my shoulders squared.

"Why ask that?" There was more of a chill to my voice than intended. "Am I such a loser that you always assume I'm calling to say I'm running back home broke and humiliated?" I bit out, finally allowing myself to feel my emotions.

"No, leave all that Hollywood nonsense and come back." The sharpness of my tone had made her wary.

Good.

"This is my career, mother. Stop pretending I'm a kid taking a gap year from life and responsibility. Harris offered me the opportunity to go to Africa with the cast for three months."

"Yes, that won't work out. You won't do well in Africa, and the wedding plans are final; Harris will understand that you can't go."

It wasn't an issue for her, and she didn't even consider what I wanted or needed. Heat seared through my veins as I shifted forward, and my hand clamped around the phone.

"You misunderstand, Mother."

Was I seriously channeling Harris?

"This is a courtesy call. I'm going to Africa and will return in three months. The plane leaves in two days, and no, I am not coming home for you to badger and bulldoze me. I need to pack."

"What is with this attitude?" she sputtered.

When have I ever stood up to her in such a manner? It felt so good and so wrong, even disrespectful. Yet it was so freeing.

Kelsey always got to say her say and counter mother, and mom listened, giving her the benefit of the doubt, but never me.

"Come home, and we'll talk about this." She laid down the law, and a week ago, I would have caved to her persistent nature.

"No. I've signed the contract; there's no going back, and please don't bother arriving on my doorstep with Kelsey in tow and a moving van. I won't change my mind."

Something in my voice must have finally registered with her, and the silence on the other side stretched.

"Why are you being difficult? This isn't a wise decision; please stop running away from your responsibilities."

My ears popped, and a tide of red flowed through my veins, but shouting at Adele would not strengthen my position.

"I moved here because you decided every major event in my life, making my choices without considering who I am. You decided I would be a chef or a manager in your restaurant before you gave birth to me and designed my life accordingly.

"When I didn't follow the script, you decided I needed time to face my responsibilities. I make my own decisions, and they are not wrong or infantile when they don't align with your vision. Am I applying myself fully? No. Because I allowed you to shape my vision of myself, and it took me until now to realize that you don't know me."

My left hand fisted, the right hand strangling the phone.

"I gave birth to you, and no one knows you better," she cut me off.

"What's my favorite color?"

"Yellow, and this is a stupid and immature question."

"No, you buy everything in yellow because you love sunflowers. I prefer azure, but since Kelsey prefers denim blue, I can't fancy the same color. Sorry, I need to go and will call again."

Not.

"And we're not done discussing this," she bit out, and I stilled my tongue.

"This isn't a discussion, Mother. It's a done deal, and if you can't accept that, then sorry, but nothing changed."

"Call me when you realize you made a hasty decision and need a ticket home," she said and rang off.

***

"Mommy issues?" Mirelly asked, startling me.

Was she being sarcastic? No, I tempered my knee-jerk reaction.

"Yes, Adele never even asked why Harris wanted me to go along."

A frown creased her brow as she sipped coffee, considering my words.

"Will you tell her?"

"No."

"Finding out would be a shock and worth seeing her face, but are you doing this to teach her a lesson or because you have zero self-confidence?"

I stared at this woman I did and did not know.

"Is it wrong to want her to see what I can do?" For the first time, I wanted to show Adele how wrong she was, and even though I couldn't shine in her arena, maybe another would work better.

"You'll be fine. Just steer clear of Druscilla."

The last part was probably sage advice, the actress had a rep, and I stole her role.

That took a while to sink in.

"Too late to sweat bullets, dear; time to do the doing," she said, both serious and teasing.

"What if I can't?" The idea iced my veins, and nausea gripped me.

"You have the ability, Mercedes; the rest is up to you."

Strangely, she meant every word. 

©2022-2023 All rights reserved Cristal Sieberhagen and TypewriterPub. Available on Amazon from 23 August 2023.