Anna sagged into a soft round chair, propped her feet on the ottoman and stared sightlessly over the valley. How could she tell Caroline that Derek had dumped her that morning, over text message no less? He wasn’t the prince charming everyone thought he was. No, his text was clear and to the point.
A - sorry but this isn’t working anymore. Ur draggin me down. Thanks, babe. Ur Gr8. – D
As if her life wasn’t already dive-bombing to rock bottom, now she was also a cliché. Dumped by text by a pretend boyfriend who was only using her for his career, ready to cut and run the minute things got rocky. Judging by his current press on the muted television, his star was on the rise as the hero of the little people like the waitress whose neglect almost killed Anna. He knew what had happened. Did he try to clarify anything or help Anna? No, he threw her to the wolves to make himself look good, only confirming what she had learned a long time ago.
Protect yourself. People are out for themselves and will use you and toss you aside. Thank God, she never trusted the asshole to have an actual relationship, or she’d be worried about sex tapes or nude photos showing up on the internet.
“No, Caroline. He won’t be coming with me. I think Derek and I are done.”
As expected, Caroline rushed to sympathize. “Oh, Anna, I’m so sorry. Well, he’s a jerk, and I won’t go see any of his movies anymore. No matter what.”
Anna smiled. At least someone had some loyalty to her but, even then, that came with strings. Like demands to attend a wedding, and a bridal shower and some weird college reunion. “I’m fine, Caroline. It wasn’t anything serious, anyway.”
“It never is with you, Anna. Not since Wyatt.” Caroline paused, sensing the sore topic.
Anna’s heart seized inside, and it took her a few breaths to get through the panic. God, the thought of Wyatt was enough to take her breath away. What would happen when she actually saw him again? The last time she had seen him, bitterness dug a deep furrow between them—the loss of his dreams per his injury, her success—all deepening the trench until it became an impassable chasm. It left them staring at the other, not knowing how to cross the chasm or if they even wanted to. Five years for that chasm to become the Grand Canyon of all divides. What would he be like now? Would he have moved on, forgiven her? And how did she feel about him?
She swallowed, not willing to examine those feelings too deeply, and croaked, “Well, it’s been a long time. We’ve both moved on.”
“Hm.” That one word, filled with sadness and regret, pierced Anna’s heart.
The television blurred, and she lifted a finger to wipe her eyes, surprised at the moisture that gathered on her lashes. She thought she had finished shedding her tears five years ago, thought she was over Wyatt Turner. If the thought of him could make her react this way, what would his actual presence do to her? She took a deep breath and let it out slowly like her meditation teacher had taught her.
“Are you going to see your family when you’re in Houston?” Caroline asked.
Anna jerked at the sudden change of topic, especially to one so emotionally charged as her family. She squirmed in the chair, frantically scrambling for an excuse out of visiting the place she had spent so many years trying to escape. Yet, right now, with her soul battered and bruised, she found she wanted her home, her mother’s cooking, and her family around her. The soothing scents from the kitchen and the warm embrace of her father, making everything okay, even when it wasn’t. It would be too easy to fall back on those moments, on her family, to get sucked back in. Right now, she’d like nothing better than to retreat to the safety and protection of the Costado clan, but she couldn’t bring the chaos of her life to her family’s doorstep to ruin their lives again. It was why she had denied herself her family for the past few years. She had hated being at her younger sister’s wedding and the media following her, making a mockery of the event, turning her sister’s day into Anna’s. The accusations from her older sister still burned in her ears. Selfish. Self-centered. Bitch. They didn’t need her trouble, not then and certainly not now.
“I don’t think I’ll have time to see them,” she replied. “I know my agent is hoping for some auditions during the hiatus, and I have a few events to attend. I’m not sure what my schedule is.”
“Anna Maria Costado.” Caroline’s voice grew stern. “I’ve put up with a lot of wavering and equivocation from you over the years, but your family is different. You get your butt to that house in the next two weeks, or I’ll send your sisters after you. Have I made myself clear?”
“Crystal.” Anna saluted the phone. “By the way, if I find out you’ve been conspiring with my sisters, well, you know what they say about payback.”
Caroline giggled, belying the stern tone from before. “Yeah, yeah, it’s a bitch.”
“And according to all the gossip rags, I’m the biggest one of all!” The phone beeped and Anna glanced down. “I have to go. It’s my agent. I’ll call you soon. Love you.”
“Don’t forget!” But Anna clicked away, confirming nothing, her usual avoidance response, as Caroline well knew, which is why a text message came in right after that.
You’d better be here as promised. No take backsies.
Anna grimaced. Caroline still knew her so well.
* * *
Anna took a fortifying breath, trying to cleanse her brain of wedding stuff, and braced herself for the whirlwind that was her agent. She had been lucky Yvonne Margolis had seen promise in her when Anna had first gotten to Hollywood. Yvonne had been an agent in a prominent firm and needed a Latina for a small part in a television show, and Anna showed up at the right time. It had worked out for her with the resurgence of nighttime dramas, circa the eighties and shows like Dallas and Dynasty. People wanted those evening soap operas again, only grittier, sexier and modern.Blazing Passionswas born, with Anna cast as a small part initially, the fiery Latina bad girl, causing trouble for the main couple. Her character, Bianca St. John, had become so popular that she worked her way up as a recurring character, then one of the leads within three years.
Yvonne knew just how to position Anna and made sure she had always been in the right place at the right time. She had invitations to all the right parties, with the right person on her arm. Now,Blazing Passionsand Bianca St. John were household names, but Anna was feeling stale, old, tired of the role of bad girl, of vamp, always using her sexual wiles to lure men into her web. On-screen at least. It had been months, more than a year, since Anna had had anyone in her bed, not according to the tabloids, of course. To them, Anna and Bianca were the same. Not that Anna ever disabused them of the notion. It was all part of the image, part of Yvonne’s strategy to make Anna a star. Now, Anna wondered if she may have made a mistake.
“Anna, what the hell were you thinking?” Vintage Yvonne.
“What do you expect me to say, Yvonne? There were nuts in the French toast. It could have killed me.” She swung her leg over the arm of the chair and dangled it in the air.
“Bullshit. There are no nuts in French toast. It’s bread, eggs, cinnamon, and milk or something.”
Anna smiled. “You cook?”
Yvonne snorted. “I googled it. No nuts, Anna. You overreacted again, and it was caught on tape. I expect this of your character, but that is something the writers put in a script. This is real life. Sometimes I wonder if you know the difference between Bianca and Anna.”