Page 74 of For My Finale
Lilah took a long sip of her drink, feeling it burn as it slid down her throat. “I wanted to.”
“You’re crazy,” Margot said, shaking her head. “You’re Lilah Paxton. You don’t get to live a normal life. And why should you? You’ve spent your entire life in the public eye. And guess what? The public, your fans, the ones who have spent millions of dollars on you, they deserve to know who you are and where you are. That’s part of the deal. It’s the Faustian bargain you make in exchange for fame and all its trappings.”
“I never wanted any of that,” Lilah said sadly. “Not really.”
“Oh, please,” said Margot. “You worked your little ass off for all this. We both did. All the late nights, the endless auditions, getting your teeth done, the sacrifices. Don’t think that I don’t know what you’ve done to get where you are, because I was right there with you most of the time. And you want to give it all up for what?”
Lilah’s fingers curled around her glass. “Not for what. For who.”
Margot gave her a look. “Oh, Lilah.”
“I was happy there,” Lilah said quietly, setting her drink down again. “With her.”
With a sigh, Margot rubbed her temples. “You’re telling me that you want to throw everything away for… for a barista?”
Lilah’s jaw tightened. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
Margot waved the waiter over. “Bill, please.”
The young man nodded and printed out the bill, handing it to Margot to sign. He accepted the paper back and then hesitated. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but…” He took a breath. “Miss Paxton, I’m a huge fan. Really huge. Would you mind?” He held out a napkin and a pen.
With a practiced smile, Lilah took the pen and scrawled her signature. The young man beamed. Internally, Lilah screamed. A week ago, she’d been buying her own eggs. Now she couldn’t even drink in the most discrete of bars.
“See?” Margot said. “That’s more like it.”
Lilah didn’t respond.
Margot stood up, slipping a couple of extra bills onto the table as a tip. Lilah wondered if she’d bribed the waiter to ask for her autograph, just to remind Lilah what she owed the public.
“Come on, we’ve got a big week ahead,” Margot said. “You need your beauty sleep.”
Lilah followed her out of the bar and into the hotel elevator. Margot pressed the button for the top floor, then leaned against the mirrored wall, checking her phone.
Lilah stared at her reflection.
She looked like… Lilah Paxton. Perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect composure. And yet she looked nothing like herself. Not the person she’d been in Bankton, with her messy hair and yoga pants and distinct lack of makeup.
She sighed. She had everything, didn’t she? Money, fame, the comeback of a lifetime, the adoration of millions of fans, the sort of career most people only dreamed of. So why did she feel likeshe had nothing at all?
As the elevator climbed, Lilah let her eyes drift shut. She couldn’t change it. If even little Bankton wasn’t safe from the press, from people selling her out and wanting things from her, then where was? Nowhere. So she had to settle for the decisions she’d made. Because as unsure as she was about nearly everything, there was one thing that she was certain about. Blossom was safer without her.
Chapter Thirty-One
Blossom walked through the village with her hands tucked into her pockets. It wasn’t quite autumn yet, but there was a slight chill in the air, a sign of things to come. Today was the day. She knew it. But she wasn’t changing her route, she was going to hold her head high and walk the way she always did.
The garish sign of Coffee-To-Go flickered and buzzed, she could see that the doors were open. Her stomach churned, but still she walked.
Until she noticed something strange.
The shiny new cafe, with its modern pine and white interior and overwhelming smell of burned espresso, was completely empty. Not a single person inside. No customers sipping lattes, no one queuing for cappuccinos. The expensive looking machines hissed behind the counter, a bored looking barista tapped on her phone, but there was no one to serve.
She hesitated, blinking, part of her kind of wanting to go and order something just to be nice. Then, shaking off her confusion, she hurried away, down the street toward her own shop.
The second she turned the corner, she saw it. A crowd of people outside. A real crowd. Her heart thumped. The line stretched from the door, winding down the pavement.
“About time,” Daisy grumbled as Blossom got to the door. “There’s thirsty people here.”
“What’s all this?” frowned Blossom.
