brain at the same time. Had Julian seen it? No, probably not, otherwise he’d have said something. But my biggest concern was my newly-minted anonymity. If this went viral—and it looked like that’s where it was heading-—somebody might figure out who that girl was.
Shit, shit, shit.
“You’re gonna be famous,” Devon said, playing the video again, giggling every damn time. “Maybe this’ll even get you an acting job. Maybe you’ll get interviewed on one of those lame morning shows. Yeah, that’s what’ll happen. They’ll fly you to New York and put you up in some fancy hotel, and the next morning you’ll go from one set to the other doing interviews. Hey, maybe you can even get on Letterman or Fallon . Or Conan . This is the kind of stuff Conan would really dig. That way you could go to Hollywood. Next thing you know, somebody will be offering you a sitcom or a movie role.”
“That’s not gonna happen.” I felt like throwing up. “None of that’s gonna happen.”
“Something’s gonna happen,” Devon said. “This has only been up about twelve hours. This’ll be big. Big.”
Time to come clean. “I have something to tell you. About me.”
When he saw how serious I was, his smile faded and he pulled up a stool and sat down, chin to hand. “I’m here for you.”
So I told him. “I’ve done Hollywood. Years ago. I used to be in a fairly popular TV show that a lot of pre-teen girls watched. It was called Mad Maddy .”
His eyes widened. “Oh, my God. You’re Mad Maddy! My sister watched that show all the time. She wouldn’t miss it!” Then he frowned. “I kind of remember some big stink about money and your mom. Like that typical shit where the mother steals it all and you took her to court.”
“Yeah. That happened. She was my manager, and she was supposed to be putting a big chunk of my earnings into a trust fund. Instead, she blew it all. Every cent.”
“That sucks so much. Do you have any contact with her?”
“She died two years ago. Turned up at my door in LA with nothing. Had cancer. I took her in.”
“Wow.” He looked stunned. “Just wow.”
“Yeah. I didn’t tell you earlier because… well, when I rented this place I didn’t even know you, and I wanted to start over. I wanted to leave all that behind.”
“I get it. I totally get it.”
“You can’t tell anybody.”
“My lips are sealed.” He stared at me in this thoughtful way, then got to his feet and pulled me toward the stool he’d just vacated. “Sit down.”
I sat.
“Relax and close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes, but I didn’t relax.
And then I felt something against my scalp. He was combing my hair. Very slowly dragging the plastic teeth of a comb against my scalp from the front to the nape of my neck.
“How’s that feel?” he asked.
I sighed. “Like heaven.” Why did it feel so good to have someone mess with your hair?
As he combed, he began to hum to himself, some soothing little tune. “I could give you a great updo.”
“I’d love that.”
Then he said, “That video is still funny as hell.”
I agreed.
Chapter 10
~ Julian ~
“How are you doing?” Dr. Rebecca Adair asked from her chair on the other side of the coffee table.
I hated shrink day, which wasn’t the same as saying I hated my shrink. Dr. Adair was okay, but everything else…everything else sucked, starting with the room. Like the couch I now sat on, and the coffee table with the obligatory box of tissue, placed right in front of me at an angle so it would look like the positioning hadn’t been orchestrated when in fact it had because there was always that tissue, pulled out just so far, waiting perfectly.
I imagined Dr. Adair bending over and arranging that box and that single tissue before the arrival of every patient. I had yet to grab for said tissue even though the good doctor tried like hell to get me to break down.
And that was really the thing, the core of my loathing. The way shrinks wanted
Shit, shit, shit.
“You’re gonna be famous,” Devon said, playing the video again, giggling every damn time. “Maybe this’ll even get you an acting job. Maybe you’ll get interviewed on one of those lame morning shows. Yeah, that’s what’ll happen. They’ll fly you to New York and put you up in some fancy hotel, and the next morning you’ll go from one set to the other doing interviews. Hey, maybe you can even get on Letterman or Fallon . Or Conan . This is the kind of stuff Conan would really dig. That way you could go to Hollywood. Next thing you know, somebody will be offering you a sitcom or a movie role.”
“That’s not gonna happen.” I felt like throwing up. “None of that’s gonna happen.”
“Something’s gonna happen,” Devon said. “This has only been up about twelve hours. This’ll be big. Big.”
Time to come clean. “I have something to tell you. About me.”
When he saw how serious I was, his smile faded and he pulled up a stool and sat down, chin to hand. “I’m here for you.”
So I told him. “I’ve done Hollywood. Years ago. I used to be in a fairly popular TV show that a lot of pre-teen girls watched. It was called Mad Maddy .”
His eyes widened. “Oh, my God. You’re Mad Maddy! My sister watched that show all the time. She wouldn’t miss it!” Then he frowned. “I kind of remember some big stink about money and your mom. Like that typical shit where the mother steals it all and you took her to court.”
“Yeah. That happened. She was my manager, and she was supposed to be putting a big chunk of my earnings into a trust fund. Instead, she blew it all. Every cent.”
“That sucks so much. Do you have any contact with her?”
“She died two years ago. Turned up at my door in LA with nothing. Had cancer. I took her in.”
“Wow.” He looked stunned. “Just wow.”
“Yeah. I didn’t tell you earlier because… well, when I rented this place I didn’t even know you, and I wanted to start over. I wanted to leave all that behind.”
“I get it. I totally get it.”
“You can’t tell anybody.”
“My lips are sealed.” He stared at me in this thoughtful way, then got to his feet and pulled me toward the stool he’d just vacated. “Sit down.”
I sat.
“Relax and close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes, but I didn’t relax.
And then I felt something against my scalp. He was combing my hair. Very slowly dragging the plastic teeth of a comb against my scalp from the front to the nape of my neck.
“How’s that feel?” he asked.
I sighed. “Like heaven.” Why did it feel so good to have someone mess with your hair?
As he combed, he began to hum to himself, some soothing little tune. “I could give you a great updo.”
“I’d love that.”
Then he said, “That video is still funny as hell.”
I agreed.
Chapter 10
~ Julian ~
“How are you doing?” Dr. Rebecca Adair asked from her chair on the other side of the coffee table.
I hated shrink day, which wasn’t the same as saying I hated my shrink. Dr. Adair was okay, but everything else…everything else sucked, starting with the room. Like the couch I now sat on, and the coffee table with the obligatory box of tissue, placed right in front of me at an angle so it would look like the positioning hadn’t been orchestrated when in fact it had because there was always that tissue, pulled out just so far, waiting perfectly.
I imagined Dr. Adair bending over and arranging that box and that single tissue before the arrival of every patient. I had yet to grab for said tissue even though the good doctor tried like hell to get me to break down.
And that was really the thing, the core of my loathing. The way shrinks wanted
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