“Are you okay?” I mouth to her when Jill’s back is turned.
She gives a nod, but it’s too quick. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and she tries to smile, but it falls completely flat.
What the hell happened in there?
Chapter Forty-Eight
CLOVER
Dinner needs to wrap the hell up. I can feel myself edging closer and closer to tears, and the last thing I want to do right now is break down in front of Jill and Roman. I just want to collapse in on myself in private.
When Anita sent me an email, I’d assumed it’d be something innocuous. I wasn’t expecting her to send a link to an article with more horrible comments. Pulling out my phone, I open it once more like the absolute sucker for punishment that I am.
Clover, great news - the photos from Napa keep rolling in. Let’s keep it up. P.S. I’m booking you in with that esthetician.
- Anita Percival, Owner & Lead Agent, Talent House Hollywood
The link to the article beckons me back for further punishment, and I open it.
The article itself is relatively innocent, featuring some photos of Roman and me in Napa. It talks about where we were spotted out there and what we were up to. The good news is that it puts to rest some of the rumors that we may not be legitimate–especially the photos of us cuddled up and making eyes at one another.
What I wasn’t prepared for were the comments. I shouldn’t have looked. The logical part of me knows I shouldn’t, that nothing in there will be positive enough to have justified looking. But then there’s that other part of me, that part that’s looking for something, that part that almost seeks the shame and ridicule. The part that seeks outside voices to justify my own shitty self-talk.
I scroll down again, and the comments land like physical blows.
Yiiiiikes, really? her?
She’s a nobody - talk about a downgrade
Calling it now, she’s gonna tank the movie.
Not enough of an ass IMO
Not who I pictured him with...
He gonna be able to lift her for all those stunts? LMAO
“Clover?” Roman asks.
I look up, completely busted that I wasn’t paying attention. Glancing over at Jill, I can see her demeanor has shifted too, and she’s studying me intently.
“Sorry, what?” I do not want their scrutiny right now. All I want is to melt into the ground and disappear.
“I was asking if you want any potatoes?” Roman clarifies, his eyes are narrowed on me and unrelenting.
“You know what, I’m actually not feeling great, so I’m going to go lay down. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Jill purses her lips, but doesn’t say anything.
I hop off the barstool and make a beeline for my room before either of them can stop me.
“Clover?” Roman calls, but I shut my door and lock it. The door is cool against my back as I slide down it and crumple into a ball against it. Phone in hand, I re-read one of the comments that cuts the deepest.
Damn, she doesn’t have the right body type for that dress
My blue and white dress. The dress that had made me feel like a million dollars. The dress that made me so happy, and feel so beautiful.
I’m burning that fucking thing now.
