Page 78 of The Wild Card
Now, I’m here in Texas, being accepted as I am by the Grahams just like Chase was. Or, I guess, notjustlike Chase since he and Harper are together and Collin and I are … not.
I found their interrogation and teasing pretty amusing, but I could tell it exasperated Collin. It’s different when it’s your family. The joking made me feel like I was a part of things, so I didn’t mind. My main concern was Jo, and I’m glad she wasn’t upset. I am wondering about how insightful her observations were. She absolutely pegged my feelings for Collin. But was she right that he likes me too?
It seems like almost too much to hope for.
The time with his family ended on a high note, with the emotional—and maybe accidental—announcement that Lindy and Pat are having a daughter.
I even got swept up in the moment, my eyes stinging with happy tears I couldn’t quite explain. Because it’s not like I’m part of the family.
And yet, for those few minutes, I forgot that I don’t really belong. No one treated me like I was just there as Collin’s pretend girlfriend or even as Chase’s sister. I was fully included and welcomed like I was one of their own.
When Collin’s eyes met mine across the room in the midst of all the celebrating, an affection that felt very real passed between us.
Or, at least, it felt real tome. And it awoke a hunger for more. To be part of this big, loud, ridiculous family.
To be part of Collin’s life as more than some temporary girlfriend.
Thinking about it, allowing myself to dream is why I’ve been smiling while filling out the paperwork. It’s definitely not the contracts themselves, which are giving me a sense of foreboding that grows deeper every time I scrawl my name.
Why? I don’t know.
I wanted this job. I lied to get this job. If I want to even consider giving up influencing, then Ineedthis job.
It’s the whole reason I’m here in Sheet Cake. It’s the reason Collin and I are fake dating. Although, I guess now his gym is a part of it. Still, it was the impetus for the whole situation.
Also, it doesn’t help me feel any more mature or settled or grown-up to push so hard to get a job that now I’m not sure I want. My father’s words suddenly bubble up in my head.
You’re changing majorsagain? It’s like horseback riding and tennis lessons all over again. You just can’t seem to make up your mind.
He wasn’t wrong. That’s the thing that makes it so hard for me to eradicate years of subtle—and not-so-subtle—digs. Ihavestruggled to settle on something I’m passionate about. Ididtry and quit like five different sports and hobbies. And Ididchange majors—though I still managed to graduate with only one extra semester.
My hesitation over the contract suddenly feels like one more piece of evidence making a case for indecision and immaturity. I should just sign it. Stick with my plan to get out of Kansas. Stick with the plan that necessitates fake dating Collin. It’s about time for me to commit to something and see it through.
And yet …
I pause, setting down the pen as I attempt to read some of the fine print. It’s not exactlyfine—at least, not tiny—but there are dense, blocky paragraphs of text written in legalese that make my eyes cross.
Legalese makes me think of Thayden, and suddenly, I’m wondering if I should hit pause on signing for a whole other reason. Kelvin and Vespa explained the basic idea of the job during the interview—essentially, I’ll be signing on as a kind of studio actor, where I’ll have roles in several films a year. Anything in production, I’ve got a part.
But do I get any choices? What if I don’t want a particular role?
Or what if the explanation I got doesn’t actually match up with the wording on the contract? By signing, I’m agreeing to whatever is on these pages, not whatever Kelvin and Vespa might have said to me verbally.
Also, the paychecks won’t start until the first day of filming, and Kelvin had no idea when that would be. But at least six weeks. Which means I won’t have a paycheck for quite a while. It also means I don’t need to rush into signing.
I pull out my phone and shoot a text to Collin.
Molly:Quick q—how expensive is Thayden? Like, if I wanted to have him look over the contract I’m supposed to be signing.
Collin:Don’t worry about cost. We basically keep him in business, and he owes me anyway. Definitely don’t sign a contract without him reading it first.
Collin:I mean, what if Brightmark stops making feel-good romance movies and you’re suddenly stuck in the next iteration ofSharknado?
Molly:Maybe I’ve always wanted to star in aSharknado-style movie.
Collin:You’re right. I don’t actually know your acting goals. Want to talk about them over dinner?
I know he’s not asking me on a date, not really. But it doesn’t stop me fromfeelinglike he’s asking me on a date. I want to squeal and kick my feet. Why not? I’m already grinning at the phone like an idiot.
