Page 69 of Mail Order Bride

I could feel my rage building. “All along you knew, and you said nothing?”

“You never listen, Gina. I didn’t figure you’d suddenly start then.”

“Yeah? Well, here’s some more news for you… Mona is slowly poisoning you. You know how sometimes you feel sick and other times you feel completely fine? If I were you, I’d ask her why.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gina,” he told me. “It’s not nice to take your anger out on Mona. She’s been nothing but helpful to this family. Sheisfamily.”

“When have I ever been nice?”

I don’t recall what else was said. I only know that harsh words were spoken, but nothing was really resolved. How could they be? Some things you can’t take back.

Still, my father was right about one thing: family is family. The only thing you can do is run, which is exactly what I did.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Gina

Itook off for Hollywood a month after Joel's funeral. It’s nice here, in a way. It’s not what I thought, and seriously, not a day goes by that I don’t think of Joel or miss him. There may have been hours or even days where I didn’t like Joel Miller, but I was always in love with him. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe I should have left sooner rather than later. If I had, he’d still be alive.

Maybe it’s the secrets you keep that kill you in the end. God knows he had his, and I certainly have mine.

Hollywood is a good place for keeping them. Everyone has a story, and it’s never what you think. Joel would hate this place. He was right; nothing is real here. But perhaps that’s the allure. Some people might say I finally made it. Whatever that means. But that’s not exactly the case.

Every day is work. There’s more work every day.

“What happens in the end?” he asks, clearly riveted.

I’m meeting with a potential agent. Ronald Taylor. Technically, it’s a date, our third, but to me it’s a business meeting. Ron’s hoping to sleep with me tonight, which is fine, because I'm hoping for something as well.

“Earth to Gianna,” he says, blowing smoke in my face, and probably up my skirt, too.

The bar is crowded and noisy. Everyone looks happy, but really no one is. I sip my martini and offer Ron a blank stare. I still have trouble answering to my new name, but the change was necessary. It’s definitely more Hollywood. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah, I asked what happens in the end?”

“Oh,” I say. “The husband dies.”

“That’s terrible,” he chokes out. He’s a little drunk. “That would never fly. The studio would change it.”

“Why?” I snap back, my voice rising in anger. I instantly regret it. I don’t want him to know I care. I’m acting out a monologue I’ve written for myself. Just something to see if maybe I can land an agent, if maybe I can landhim. “I mean, what if it’s the truth?”

“Gigi…” he starts, but I cut him off.

“It’s Gianna.”

“That’s what I said. So, yeah, anyway,” he tells me, his voice heavy with alcohol. He starts coughing, and sort of grabbing at his collar. It’s warm in here. I lean forward and help him loosen his tie. It doesn’t seem to help, so I offer him my water. He chugs it down. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“You hated my audition.”

“No, no. And anyway, I’m just an agent. What do I know?”

“But you’re not my agent.” I’m fishing, but he doesn’t bite. I signal for another round of drinks, and he smiles.

“Look—I can see you playing the part. But the ending just wouldn’t work.”

“That’s too bad,” I tell him, checking my watch. Mona's in town, and I promised I wouldn't stay out too late. Just one more drink won’t hurt. “Any other ending wouldn’t feel true to the story.”

The bartender places two napkins in front of us and sets our drinks on top. Ronald downs his and motions for me to do the same.

---