“I’m going to bed—you staying over?”
“Yeah.”
“We can hit the gym together in the morning.”
“Sounds good.” Mark usually looked forward to working out with Beau. They were evenly matched in weights, so they wouldn’t have to find someone to spot for them. But not even the chance to smack-talk with his best friend brightened his outlook on the world.
Maybe he was too jaded. Maybe seeing all the heartache and physical difficulties he witnessed in his travels had colored his thoughts. Maybe “real” life was a fairy tale.
Anthony has a beautiful wife, a baby on the way, time for both. Love. Home. Family. The lucky jerk.
Mark chose acting as a career. He just didn’t know he’d be giving up so much in the process. There had to be a way to havea marriage and do the work he loved. Even a star’s stars could align once in a lifetime.
Sunday afternoons were one of Mark’s favorite times. When he was in town, he met Chloe at a local church for services and Sunday school in the morning, heading back to his house for lunch and board games or a movie.
They were just clearing the table, their grilled cheese sandwiches reduced to crusts, when Chloe grabbed a catalogue off the pile of junk mail on the counter and stared at the cover.
Mark glanced over her shoulder to see what held her interest. There was a woman in a suit walking on a busy sidewalk. “What are you looking at?” he asked.
“I was wondering how we could help this woman.” Chloe pointed to the lady in the picture.
“Why does she need help?”
Rolling her eyes, Chloe replied, “Her outfit is so boring she blends in with the street signs.”
“What?” Mark blinked several times, sure he hadn’t heard his sweet ten year-old degrade an adult for her style.
“Mom says we have to help the fashionably unfortunate by setting a good example for them.”
Holding back the name he’d like to call his ex-wife, Mark said, “I think she looks pretty.”
“You do?” Chloe appeared shocked.
At least she wasn’t mortified by his comment as Jasmine would have been.
“Yeah, she looks sweet and kind—two very attractive qualities in a woman.” He set the last of the dishes in the dish washer and pressed start. A deep hum filled the room.
Chloe continued to stare at the image. No doubt her thoughts were a jumble. Mark hated to outright contradict his ex-wife, because it made Chloe feel like she was in the middle of a tug-of-war and that wasn’t fair to his girl. The choices he’d made contributed to the sense of unrest he felt as of late, but he hated that his choices—and Jasmine’s—affected their daughter.
They settled in to a game of Uno, Chloe quickly taking the lead. Her mind was on the game, while his mind was on his options. He’d reduced his schedule to the minimum—just short of quitting completely. Acting paid for Chloe’s school, the house she shared with her mom, the car that drove her
to and from school, and his job allowed Jasmine to be at home with Chloe. That was part of the deal. He’d support them both—the alimony was insane —until Chloe graduated high school. He wanted his kid to have at least one parent at home. He’d gladly be that parent, but with his financial obligations, that wasn’t an option right now.
He also battled the fear that if he gave up that part of himself, he’d lose a part of who he was. Acting was in his soul.
“Uno!” announced Chloe.
Mark stared at the eight cards in his hand. He laid down a red draw two. Chloe scowled as she drew the cards, making him laugh.
Chloe moved her cards around, her lips pressed firmly together. That was the Dubois determination—right there on his girl’s face. He wasn’t giving up on gaining full custody—after all, the DuBoises weren’t just determined; they could be stubborn too.
CHAPTER FOUR
Allie slid into the limousine. A sense of possibility crept over her skin as the vehicle pulled away from the curb, taking them to their magical luncheon with the stars.
The usually quiet building was all abustle as tenants crowded out so the fumigators could move in. Their energy permeated the walls, giving the building new life, which was funny, considering the reason they were piling out the doors. Perhaps avoiding William’s lemony disposition until Monday morning added the bounce to her step. The luncheon was so far out of her ordinary day that she hadn’t been able to eat due to nerves and her stomach growled.
With her dark hair loosened from its ever-present braid, brushing her belt like a hem brushes the floor, a sense of freedom bubbled. Freedom from the drab diner walls, the constantly aching feet, and the pressure of just getting by. Today, she wasn’t Allie the washed-up waitress. Today— well, she wasn’t quite sure who she was. Someone who rode in limos? Her lips puckered under the gloss, making her want to laugh at everything and nothing. For the first time in her life, Allie believed there might be more to this journey than passing time.
