And the completed picture wasn’t pretty.
Then she heard a throat clear.
She turned to see Ramona standing about five feet away, an uncertain look on her face that told Dylan she’d heard every single word.
“Hi,” she said. A set pass hung around her neck, but she jutted a thumb toward the back room. “I’m all done helping out here, so I’ll—”
But Dylan didn’t let her finish. She reached out and grabbed Ramona’s hand, pulling her closer. She stopped before swallowing Ramona fully into her arms—even though she could use a goddamn hug right now—but she kept hold of Ramona’s hand, her grip a little too tight.
“You okay?” Ramona asked softly.
Dylan didn’t answer—couldn’t, because that would mean Ramona really did hear everything Blair said. Instead, she just smiled, shook her hair out of her face.
“Any last-minute tips?” she asked.
Ramona’s eyes searched hers. They searched for so long, Dylan started to worry Ramona had changed her mind, that she could suddenly see right through her, see that Dylan was made of nothing but glitter and glass, flimsy and breakable, all shine and no substance.
But then Ramona leaned closer, a small smile on her mouth. “Just remember Eloise is a mess too.”
Dylan’s breath tangled in her chest.
Too.
Eloise is a messtoo.
But Ramona’s voice was so soft, so sweet, Dylan didn’t feel insulted or attacked. She felt…seen. She had a sudden and wild urge to kiss Ramona, or at least lean her head against hers. Get closer somehow. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this—thisseenfeeling that didn’t come with shame or guilt or fear, but simply…
She didn’t know.
Couldn’t even find a word for it.
“Maybe afterward,” she said, thumb swiping over the back of Ramona’s hand, “we can—”
But then she saw Laurel.
Right across from them by a booth, her phone aimed in their direction. She seemed to snap a picture, then looked at it with a smile on her face. Her eyes met Dylan’s and she gave her a thumbs-up.
“Maybe we can what?” Ramona asked. She turned to see whom Dylan was looking at, but Laurel had moved on by then.
Dylan shook her head. She didn’t think she could do this. Couldn’t date Ramona under Laurel’s gaze, Rayna’s and Gia’s, no matter how much she agreed that it would help her career right now. She just—
“Maybe we could hang out?” Ramona asked, her fingers tightening on Dylan’s.
Dylan let out a breath. Let herself say “Yeah.” Because she wanted to. It didn’t matter who else was pushing her toward Ramona…Dylan wanted to push herself.
“Yeah,” she said again. “Maybe we could hang out.”
Ramona grinned, squeezed Dylan’s hand again, and then she was walking away, and Gia was calling out that it was time to start, and cameras were moving into position, and lights warmed on Dylan’s face as she wiped down the counter, this time as Eloise—a tired, discouraged Eloise Tucker.
And soon, the only girl Eloise had ever loved would walk through the café door, and then…
Dylan’s eyes found Ramona one more time. She was standing in the hallway that led to the back, but still visible, still watching Dylan with a smile. Gia called, “Action,” then all but glared at Dylan with her arms crossed as though waiting for her to fuck up.
And Dylan did stumble over her first line to her boss, Nate, played by character actor Michael Wiley, but it seemed to work as he was asking Eloise to cover a shift later that evening, which would put her on a fifteen-hour workday. Eloise was harried and exhausted, and Dylan’s nerves fit right in with that. Miraculously, Gia didn’t yellCut, or sigh heavily or anything. She did continue glaring, and Dylan ignored her.
She did her job.
And when Blair walked into the café as Mallory, Dylan did exactly what she was supposed to do—act completely annoyed with this posh woman asking for an oat milk lavender latte with low foam and a shot of collagen.
