I scoff. “Not only do I not mind, I insist. Because you’re never too old to play twin tricks.”
“Truth,” she says.
“And besides, Addison girls don’t cut corners.”
“We go all out.”
I paint my nails the same light-pink shade as hers, then grab one of her hoodies. But even as we’re having a blast, a kernel of guilt wedges into my chest, like a stone in a shoe. Haven’s been open with me about her budding romance. Surely I could do the same about mine. We protect each other. We don’t reveal each other’s secrets.
On the hotel bed, as I flap my hands around to dry the polish, I weigh the possibility of telling her when her phone rings. She stretches across the mattress to grab it from the nightstand.
“Hi, Michelle,” she says.
Ah, it’s her agent.
“They do?”
A pause.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Of course I can do it.”
One more pause. This one is long and Haven nods with wide eyes, her smile growing bigger by the second. As she listens, I flash back to the last time I was in a hotel. Not with Haven, when I stopped by the other week. But more than a month ago. The night I met Banks. I picture opening the door of the room for our tryst and hoping it’d be him.
Then, I remember my embarrassment when the hotel clerk stood there with an envelope of rejection. I can see the moment so clearly, but I don’t feel those emotions anymore. The foolishness has vanished. The shame has faded away. I’m no longer worried about my terrible track record with men and what that might mean. I don’t see myself any more as the know-it-all, thetoo independentone, the pushy one, like I told Grandma I feared I was.
Sure, I am those things, but I’m okay with that, because I let Banks get to know the real me. He’s shown me who he is too. My whole heart softens as I think of him.
I want to tell Haven about this unexpected romance. I’m desperate to tell her. Maybe I can soon, since so much has changed over the last few weeks.
When the call ends, I shove away the memory and shelve thedesire as Haven says, “First,The Madison Marlowe Showinvited me as a guest when I return to LA.”
“The late-night talk show?” I squeak out. It’s become one of the most popular interview shows on-air.
“Yes, to talk about the movie and everything. Plus, there’s some interest in me for a lead on a TV show.”
I gasp. TV is the golden goose. “Tell me everything.”
She shares the details, telling me Vega is writing a script for TV and potentially wants to work with Haven again. When she’s done, there’s no time for me to confess my burgeoning romance. Maybe tomorrow. Or another day. “That’s awesome,” I say.
“I can’t wait to tell William tonight.”
“Maybe he can go down to LA for the appearance,” I suggest, since I’m helpful like that.
“You’re such an enabler.”
“I’m full of brilliant ideas.”
“Like this one,” she says, then hands me her purse since I suggested earlier that we trade bags. I give her mine. We swapped the contents earlier.
“And now, the pièce de résistance.” Grandly, with much fanfare, she hands me her pair of pink heart-shaped shades.
“Ooh, your signature accessory these days.” I put on the sunnies, pushing them through my hair so they act as a headband.
Then, it’s showtime.
