Page 159 of Damaged Mogul
Uh-oh.“What is it?”
“LA looks good on you. With a little luck—or a little more time spent with Gage—sweet Lily will become Voodoo Lily?—”
“You’re such a florist. You’re hoping I leave LA like one of the most poisonous flowers on the planet?”
Her smile is sinister. “It’s a colorful way of saying I hope you grow a protective skin that repels the shit spewing out ofFisher’s mouth and allows you not to give a flying fuck what his sons think of you.”
I catch my reflection in the glass door.Can I become that girl? Will there be a day I’ll stop craving my father’s and half-brothers’ acceptance? Can I grow a tough enough skin to protect my heart from never earning my father’s love?
Chapter 28
Lily
Most of my friends from boarding school returned home once they graduated. Those girls are scattered across the planet. Some of us keep in touch, but unless you’re living in the same city, virtual friendships are never the same.
The only reason Nadine and I are still besties is because we were two peas in a pod in boarding school, and she insisted on attending the University of Paris even though she could’ve selected any college in Paris because she speaks fluent French. She didn’t want to break our bond.
A friendship is a special gift. I always thought it was years in the making.
LA changed that.
It’s possible for strangers to become fast friends.
“The French afternoon tea I had with Michaela a few days ago was high up there on my list, but this…” I point to my dessert plate.
“I know, right?” Dominika digs in for another spoonful of lip-smacking Bakewell tart.
This new to me English dessert is heaven in my mouth.
“Stasia introduced the sisterhood to the Millennium Biltmore’s Rendezvous Court,” Dominika says. “It’s become one of our favorites.”
It still blows my mind I rub elbows with Stasia van Gameren––rocker chick goddess.
“I can see why,” I say. “It’s a level of olde-worlde chicness I would’ve never associated with the City of Angels. The handful of historic buildings I’ve visited all had modern interiors. Not this one. It’s old Hollywood. If I lived here, it would become a favorite as a brunch spot.”
“It can be if you come to school here or when you come visit,” Dominika says.
The prospect of spending more time with the sisterhood fills me with joy. That’s the only silver lining in attending film school in LA. That, and seeing Gage.
My eyes land on an elegant couple sitting at a table behind Dominika.
I’m grateful I don’t stick out like a sore thumb, given my missing suitcase. I would’ve preferred wearing a dress, but I wasn’t about to buy more clothes. Since this brunch invitation was last minute, I’m wearing the same outfit I wore a couple days ago. Thank God the white sleeveless top with a pair of slim fitted raw silk three-quarter pants in fuchsia, which I paired with black satin Manolo Blahnik Hangisi heels are chic enough.
Dominika on the other hand is dressed for the occasion. The dress she selected has bell sleeves, similar to the one she wore the first time I met her. I never would’ve guessed a blonde could get away with wearing a yellow dress. The emerald-green high heel peep toe shoes are a bold choice. The woman wears pregnancy well.
Her wardrobe selection isn’t the only surprise. I guess I was too overwhelmed the first time we met totake note of the tattoos peeking from her sleeve.
“This dessert is ridiculous,” she says. “The baby loves it. That’s my excuse for having a second slice.” She smiles wide. “You can blame a baby for everything and get away with it.”
She laughs.
I don’t.
A foreign sensation washes over me.
She has it all––a gorgeous, sexy husband who loves her, the sisterhood to support her, a kick ass career, and a baby on the way that will allow her to step into the next phase of her life.
She’s not a lost soul with a family that excels at ignoring her and giving her the cold shoulder.
