“You two seem pretty cozy, but also like you’re trying to hide something, going out to dinner off the beaten path. What’s the truth?”
“The truth is you need to go to hell. Turn that thing off.” Charlie shoved the cameraman, who stumbled backward.
“Jackpot,” the guy with the mic said with a laugh. “Thanks for giving us our lead story for tomorrow night.”
“Get out of here, you punk,” Charlie yelled after him.
I’d prayed that they’d find a bigger story by the next night, but of course they didn’t. The footage ran on the TMZ show, on their Web site, and was even picked up by our competitor, Access L.A. I’d hoped Casey hadn’t seen it.
My BlackBerry buzzes, jolting me back to the auditorium, back to where I should be. I fight the urge to check my email, knowing it’s the script for tomorrow’s interview with Jennifer Lopez and her take on balancing single motherhood and life in the spotlight.
Tears well up in my eyes as I watch Sophie shine on stage, trying not to notice that John grabs Casey’s hand during Sophie’s solo, his face perplexed when Casey pulls away quickly and glances in my direction with an apologetic look. I finally try to stare straight ahead, ignoring the movement out of the corner of my eye, instead focusing on Sophie’s standout performance.
Exactly ninety minutes later, the crowd is on its feet and Sophie and the cast come out for an encore bow. She’s smiling from ear to ear and I look over at John to share a moment of pride for our daughter’s victory. But he’s not looking my way, he’s beaming at Casey, who’s grinning back at him with tears in her eyes. My BlackBerry buzzes again and I finally give in and grab it, tired of feeling like a third wheel in my own life. I scroll down the list of emails and scan the subject lines, finding one from each executive “checking in” about New York City and five from Destiny. I start to open the one that says “Dean Rumor” when I hear Sophie’s voice. She has one arm wrapped around John, the other around Casey. I watch them and wish I knew why I’d never tried harder to be more affectionate with my girls. Am I to blame for their bad attitudes toward me? Sophie spots me and breaks away from John and Casey. I watch Casey’s face fall and my stomach turns in recognition.
“Aunt Casey, you came!” She hugs me tightly and I cling to her, not wanting to let go. Trying not to think about the fact that she thinks I’m her aunt, not her mother.
“How was I? Tell me everything.” Sophie looks up at me with wide eyes, waiting for my expert opinion.
I try not to focus on what Aunt Casey would say because if I say anything as her mom, I won’t be able to hold back my tears. “You’re a star, honey. You’re a star!” The tears come anyway.
CHAPTER 29
* * *
casey
The clock ticks past 2 p.m. and I glance at my phone again. As if on cue, it buzzes and I reach down and anxiously read Rachel’s text. Sorry! I’ll be there in ten minutes! I sigh deeply.
“What is it, Mom?” Audrey calls over from the chair she’s sitting in before Jose, her stylist, snorts his disapproval and firmly moves her head back into place.
“Just like this,” he says in his thick, accented English to her for the third time in the last twenty minutes, an accent I happen to know is not quite as thick after a few mojitos. He locks eyes with his assistant and rolls them as if to say, amateurs. “Jose cannot get your hair perfecto if you’re shaking your head around like you’re in some sort of Whitesnake video.” The assistant chuckles.
“Calm down, Jose,” I say and get a sharp look in return, forgetting that Rachel, suburban stay-at-home mom, can’t say the things to him that Casey, important celebrity client and longtime friend, can. He shakes his head at my gall and continues to work Audrey’s long, dark hair into a sweeping updo fit for an A-list celebrity.
“I thought you said Casey was coming?” Jose asks pointedly, as if we didn’t belong in his salon without her.