Page 94 of Beyond the Spotlight Discreet Version

Victoria could be my sister. She has blonde hair and green eyes like me. Gorgeous. Flawless. I expected to feel threatened by her, to hate her, but she doesn’t sneer at me or speak condescendingly like other women who find out I’m with Rey. She’s not fake when we speak. She’s a kind woman who welcomed me with open arms.

Reynold told me how flirty she was at the table read. The week before I met Victoria, tabloids published photos of her and Rey appearing intimate. He said it was for a scene they were shooting where they shared a kiss. Still, the media portrayed it as him “cheating” on me.

I knew it wasn’t true, especially after he fucked me that night, leaving my legs weak and pussy aching.

“Rey and Mylan are going over some last-minute changes with the director, so I offered to keep you company.”

She haunches down in front of Addy. “Hi Adeline. Do you remember me? I’m Victoria.”

I expect Addy to hide behind my leg, but she doesn’t. “You’re my dad’s fake wife.”

Victoria laughs and stands. “That’s right.”

“My dad’s going to marry Savvy.”

I choke on my spit and start coughing. “Addy. You shouldn’t be saying stuff that’s not true.”

She shrugs. “He loves you, though, right? And when you love someone, you get married.”

“That’s...” Oh my God. What am I supposed to say? Reynold hasn’t said the ‘L’ word to me aside from ‘my love’ and he said it was just a term of endearment. I haven’t told him I love him either. Do I think he cares for me? Absolutely. Do I care for him? More than anything in the world.

Do I love him?

Yes.

I’m too scared to say the word because the last person I thought I loved broke my heart.

But this is different. This love I have for Reynold is different. It’s real. What I thought I felt for Brad could never amount to this feeling I have for Reynold. That overwhelming sense of need when he’s not around. Security when in his arms. Fear that if I ever lost him, I wouldn’t be able to function.

Victoria must sense my panic and waves her hands in front of my body. “You look wonderful. That outfit is to die for.”

“Oh, thank you,” I say, glancing down.

I’m wearing a simple black crop top, a short white flare skirt covered in black lace, fishnet leggings, and sketchers. My hair is up in a messy bun. It’s an ode to my punk phase in my early twenties.

“Who is your stylist? I desperately need to update my wardrobe, and my current stylist is useless.”

“I style myself,” I say with a nervous laugh.

“Would you want to style me?” Her eyes light up with the idea.

“Sure. I mean, I’m not a professional, but I’d love to try.”

She claps her hands together. “Wonderful.”

She digs into her purse and extracts a card before handing it to me. “Call me. We’ll set up a consultation. Email me your rates. If you’re not sure what to charge, research the standard and charge me double.”

I take the card, my eyes stinging with tears. This can’t be real. Can it? “Did… Rey tell you to talk to me about styling?”

She tilts her head. “He didn’t, but to be fair, we haven’t filmed too many scenes together. Most of the flashbacks are scheduled for this month.”

“Oh.” So that means she saw me and liked my outfit?

“Is styling something you’d like to do?”

I shrug. “I didn’t even think of it as an option. I just like wearing cute clothes and assembling outfits. Rey is the one who suggested it. He said he’d put me in touch with people.”

She smiles softly at me.