I blink at Mona. Is she testing the strength of my allegiance to the Dylans, or is she simplythatkind? “I, uh…” I amdyingto go, but Ten willneverspeak to me again. “I’m in the middle of brunch,” I blurt out.
The assistant’s eyebrows arch up so high they vanish underneath her mess of curls. I bet no one’s ever turned down an invitation from Mona. I don’t see why anyone in their right mind would. Or maybe she’s surprised by Mona’s casual invitation.
“Talkin’ ’bout brunch, Mona…” The assistant glances at me. “D’you need the bathroom much longer?”
“Um. No. Just have to wash my hands.” I lunge to one of the sinks and turn on the water.
“What about brunch, Kara?” Mona asks.
Her assistant lowers her voice, probably imagining I won’t be able to hear her over the gushing water. “Your ex and children are here.”
Mona’s bronzed skin turns the color of wax. “Here?”
“They’re having brunch downstairs.” Kara glares my way.
I jerk my gaze to my hands, concentrating on creating the thickest layer of foam in the history of handwashing.
Kara says, “Good photo op.”
I freeze.
I don’t hear Mona’s answer, but her thick hair shifts from left to right as she shakes her head no. I’m so relieved by her refusal that I let out a rapid breath. I turn off the tap and dry my hands.
Nev’s hair is as thick as her mother’s and almost the same shade, perhaps a tint darker than Mona’s caramel brown.
Mona.
I still can’t believe I’m standing so close to Mona Stone, sharing the same air. After I toss my hand towel in a wicker basket, I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.
Nope. Not a dream.
I want to stay longer, but unless I feign stomach cramps and rush back into a stall, I have to leave. As I pass by her, I finally find my voice. “Thank you, Mrs. Stone. For inviting me onto your set.”And for not agreeing to a photo op.
Mona’s no longer smiling, but I sense that has everything to do with her family being one floor below where she’s standing.
“Bye, now,” Kara singsongs as I finally leave.
I’ve never disliked someone instantly, but it’s the case with Kara. As I return to the restaurant, I wonder if the people who work for big stars are all like her—disagreeable and calculating. But then I thrust Kara outof my mind and run through every millisecond of my encounter with Mona.
What stays with me is that she was thoughtful and empathetic, nothing like the uncaring monster Ten paints. But then his portrait of her is biased, and colored by grief.
I slide back into my seat.
“Manage to get the coffee out?” Jeff asks me.
The coffee!I forgot all about it. I stare down at my jeans, then back up at Jeff, and then at my half-full cup.
Ten nudges his elbow into my side.
I look up at him. His features are larger than his mother’s, but the resemblance is so striking. How could I have missed it? It’s not like he hides his face behind a curtain of hair like his sister.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Uh.” I swallow. “I think I might be coming down with something,” I lie, my pulse twitching with guilt.
“Want me to drive you home?” he offers.
I want to say yes, but then I glance at Mom, whose brow is so ridged with concern that I swallow hard and shake my head. I don’t want my weird behavior to reflect badly on her and affect her relationship with her client. “It’ll pass.”
