Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

“I’m not having this conversation again,” I said and went to stand.

“Listen to me,” he snapped.

Surprised, I sat back down. It was rare for Corbin to raise his voice at me. “Your family misses you. You miss them. I know you do, so don’t try to deny it. You’ve let pride get in the way too long, and that makes you no better than your dad.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “I’m his daughter, and he’s pretended I don’t exist for the better half of a decade.”

“He’s a jerk, but he’s your father, and I know in his own twisted way, he’s never wanted anything but the best for you. That’s why you leaving has been so hard on him.”

I shook my head. There were things Corbin didn’t know. If it weren’t for my dad’s meddling, Manning and I might’ve had a chance. “You don’t understand.”

“Whatever beef you have with him, with Tiffany, it’s time to put it aside. You’re not sixteen anymore, but you’re still acting like a child. You never even went to see her in the hospital, your own sister.”

I looked at my hands. It wasn’t that I didn’t care that Tiffany had miscarried—it was the opposite. When I’d found out she was pregnant, I’d wished the baby away. I’d hated Tiffany for how she’d treated Manning and me. But I’d never expected my wish to come true. Despite what we’d all been through, no matter how I felt about any of it, Tiffany hadn’t deserved to lose it all. And not just the baby.

Months after the miscarriage, almost a year since New York—she and Manning had divorced.

“Give me one honest answer,” Corbin said, “and then we can drop it for good.”

I crossed my arms into myself. “Fine.”

“Are you staying in New York because you love it, and it runs in your veins, and you can’t imagine being anywhere else? Or is it because you don’t want to go home?”

I didn’t have an immediate answer. I rarely stopped to wonder whether New York was where I wanted to be, because deep down I knew the truth—my roots, my one love, my youth, would always be in California. But going home meant reopening wounds, admitting mistakes, looking my family in the face after all the pain I’d caused them. Because it was true—they might’ve hurt me over the years, but I’d hurt them, too, in ways I could never take back.

“You haven’t talked to your dad in eight years,” Corbin said.

And I hadn’t talked to Manning in over three. Hadn’t kissed or made love to or even laid eyes on him in three years, and my dad had played a part in that. I’d been proud, but so had he. If Dad still couldn’t pick up the phone, then it was better this way, because I had nothing to say to him. “If I go to California, it’s not to see them,” I said. “It’s because I want a change.”

Corbin sighed, standing up and holding out his hand for me. “I think that’s a mistake—but I think it’s also a start.”

2

Lake

I took the job in California. The network had made it hard to say no. I’d been flown out to L.A., put up in a costly hotel, and encouraged by Val, Corbin, and Roger to say yes. When I’d said I’d need time to think about the offer, the producers had sweetened the deal. Of the five principals hired, only two were making more than me, and they were both minor local celebrities.

The world would fall in love with me—according to the producers and crew. Of course, I’d never had it in me to play the villain. They’d set me up with a roommate, a struggling set designer named Bree, who was also on the show. Corbin and Val had been around for some of the filming, but I’d refused to bring my family into it, even though the producers sometimes made me talk about my dad and Tiffany while filming. Cameras followed us around, intrusive and cumbersome, all to marry the slice-of-life reality Mike had promised with plots the writing team molded into stories.

Late summer, a couple months into shooting, Val invited just about everyone I knew in L.A. over to her house for the pilot. When Bree and I showed up, sans cameras but with party platters, the applause began.

Bree bowed, but I only hid my reddening face. I hadn’t gotten into acting to be famous. I loved that I could access a different part of my brain and heart and use those to create a world for others. An escape. But I’d gotten more attention over the past few months than I’d ever wanted, and we hadn’t even aired yet. With a look, I implored Val to make it stop.

She picked up a bottle of champagne and got on the coffee table. “Who wants alcohol?”