“It is the same thing they say about other young stars in Hollywood…”
“You are going to have to fill in the blanks for me, Char.”
He called me Char. A nickname from a guy I’ve only known for two days. I have always hated it when my mom called me that, but it doesn’t feel too bad when he says it…
Maybe I could come around to the nickname?
“Char?” he repeats again. I swipe my tongue against my upper teeth.
“You look pale,” he says, studying me.
Do I? I don’t feel flush, but then again, seeing her move off a wall feels unsettling.
“Say anything, Charlotte,” the shadow yells at me. Her words throw heat in my mouth.
“They desperately want to label you. To put you in a box and whoever has been on your team has been crafting a stereotype that doesn’t fit you.
I sink in my chair, lowering my voice.
“Beneath the bullshit you spewed to that reporter, I know there is much more there. Let’s show the world you have layers... you can be vulnerable”
He rubs his chin, repeating the word “vulnerable” with different inflection each time. As if he is trying to wrap his head around what the word is.
He returns his sights to the dogs after I say this. As if the conversation never happened, they continue their game.
Pick up the ball. Drop the ball. Like nothing else matters but a simple game of catch. He tosses his hair to the side with the most unfazed expression. I deepen my sigh.
“Yes, vulnerability equals heart. It’s relatable.”
Lifting himself from the chair, he smirks. “You seem to know a lot about me. Doing a little too much research on TikTok?”
He is quick. To the point. An intended dagger to throw me off kilter.
My eyes narrow in on him. “Yes, it’s my job.”
Stay focused, Charlotte. Stay focused.
“I’ll just get to the point of how our firm can revamp that for you.”
“Good start,” the shadow murmurs in my ear, Holden’s attention snapping back to me.
“Quietly go to rehab or anger management. I am not entirely sure of the core issue for you. But I do know that everyone thinks you have a long-standing problem with drugs and you are always angry.”
Holden gives a large groan, tossing another ball to the yard.
“Play into the narrative. After six months, we do a charity circuit. Go to a few hospitals, donate and attend galas creating social impact and finally land yourself on the cover of a big magazine—or even better, a TED Talk of some sort where you can detail your experience in a compassionate, vulnerable way.”
I tie together vulnerable at the end before taking a breath. Holden opens his mouth, ready to provide his opinion, when one of the golden retrievers comes charging our way.
Holden’s arms stretch out wide, waiting for the embrace, when the dog swerves in my direction.
“Charlie! NO!” he yells. The seventy pound dog pounces on top of my body, pushing me off the lawn chair and onto the ground.He dribbles wet kisses all over my face. I am unable to move from the weight. My whole body is stuck to the floor in defeat.
“You were saying?” He chuckles.
“Just leave me here to die.”
My hands are crossed over my head, covering the redness on my cheek.
