“Yeah,” Shane said quietly. “It’s amazing. I’m really lucky.”
She turned to look at him, her gaze soft. “Forget lucky. Are you happy, baby?”
Something in his chest twisted painfully at the endearment, and he closed his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I love doing the show. I do. I’d do it forever, if I could. But the rest of it…”
He trailed off. Even with the leg up of coming off a hit show today, he could easily become That Guy from That Thing tomorrow. If he wanted to stay in the industry, it would be a constant battle for the next job. The schmoozing, the hustling, the disappointments, the humiliations. He had no idea how anyone handled it without burning out and breaking down.
“Is it ungrateful of me? To think about getting out, throwing away this opportunity that so many other people would die for?”
“You gave them nine years of your life, that doesn’t sound like throwing it away to me. And if you’re so worried about other people, maybe the selfless thing to do would be to step aside and let them have your spot.” Her voice was neutral, though she was obviously making fun of him. He laughed.
“Good point. But I have no fucking clue what else I would do. No degree, no other experience. Plus…” He waved around at the house, in the same manner she’d done earlier. “How else am I going to keep y’all living like this?”
“Now, listen,” his mother said, her voice suddenly stern. “I don’t want you to take us into account for a second when you’re deciding what to do next. We don’t need any of this stuff. If wehad to sell this house tomorrow, we would. It’s too damn big for just the two of us, anyway.”
“But Iwant—”
“Shane.” She cut him off, then chuckled to herself. “Well, we tried our hardest, but I guess we didn’t fuck the three of y’all up too much after all. Lucky you grew up as well as you did, wanting to take care of us now.”
“Mom—”
“Let me finish.” He turned his head to look at her, her face as serious as he’d ever seen it. “As your mother, all I care about is that you’re safe, and loved, and happy, and standing on your own two feet. Anything else is gravy. And I hope you know I’m so proud of you. Me and your dad both.” She grinned self-deprecatingly. “Whatever that’s worth, at your age. Your parents being proud of you.”
Shane was speechless. All he could do was nod, his chest heavy.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, once he was able. “It’s worth a lot. And…I’m proud of you, too.”
She leaned over and stroked his hair.
“Although,” he continued, “I kind of wish you’d said you wanted an even bigger house, and a Ferrari, and, like, a hat made of diamonds or something. That would make things a lot easier. You’d be looking at the new host of the American edition ofI’m Not Swallowing That.”
His mother threw back her head and laughed, full-throated and raspy.
A laugh that felt like home, even if the house they were sitting in didn’t.
22
Yvonne’s New Year’s parties had been a tradition for as long as Lilah had known her. Naturally, over the past decade, they’d grown in scale and extravagance as Yvonne’s star had risen. Lilah had only missed one, when she’d had the flu so badly she’d been hallucinating.
This year, Pilar and her wife, Wendy, had talked Lilah into agreeing to a blind date with one of Wendy’s business associates, another venture capitalist.
“I don’t know if I want to date a money guy,” Lilah had demurred.
“Hey, watch it. My wife’s a money guy,” Pilar said with alaugh. “It’s just one night. And if he sucks, you can always ditch him and disappear into the crowd. I mean, as much as a six-foot redhead is able to disappear into any crowd.”
Lilah had given in, but as she got ready, she found herself regretting it. In her experience, nine times out of ten, that type of man was looking for a trophy, and not just in terms of looks: they wanted a woman who was the most educated, the most successful, the most accomplished, so it reflected well on them when she gave it all up to raise their children and run their household.
But then, she had to admit that her dating pool was a little limited these days. He was in a totally different industry, so there was less risk of him being threatened by her success or trying to use her for her connections; plus, he had his own money, so he wouldn’t feel emasculated by hers. As unenthused as she was about the prospect, he was the best (and only) option she’d been presented with in months.
She didn’t want to think about Shane, so she didn’t. She definitely wasn’t wondering what he was up to tonight, whether he had a date of his own.
They hadn’t spoken since their Christmas Day phone call, but he’d shown up in her dreams almost every night since, to her chagrin. Apparently, her brain didn’t want to accept that their phone sex joke had been, well, a joke.
Thankfully, she had something more important to preoccupy her as she put the finishing touches on her makeup: she’d probably be hearing about her role inNight Callafter the New Year, and she had a gut feeling it was as good as hers.
The week before she’d left to go home, she’d had her callback—one of the best auditions of her life. A few days later, she’d had a long lunch with Marcus Townsend and his wife,Sareeta, with whom he was cowriting the screenplay. The three of them had clicked instantly, chattering a mile a minute, Lilah sharing her insights on the character as Sareeta and Marcus had laid out their plans to bring the book to life. She’d left the meeting on a high, more invigorated than she’d felt in years.
She tried to channel that optimism as she walked into the party, Yvonne’s cavernous living room swarming with people and thudding with music. It didn’t take long before Pilar found her, all in white with Wendy on her arm. Wendy, of course, matched her perfectly, in an all-white suit and her signature cropped platinum hair swooping over one of her eyes.
