Page 35 of See You There
“How did I screw up?” Dahlia’s voice was tight, and when Victor didn’t snap back immediately, she knew her unusual defiance had startled him.
His voice was patronizing when he continued. “Doll, you are a trusting girl. This lawyer is taking advantage of your name and fame. Let me handle these things. You don’t understand how ugly the business side of things can be.”
Dahlia’s blood boiled. “First off, Victor, I’m not a girl—I’m a thirty-year-old woman. And everything is being handled.”
“Better check that contract again, sweetie.” Victor’s voice was low and mean. “I decide about your image and brand. That includes hiring the lawyers who represent you.”
Her stomach sank at the reminder of the ridiculous contract she’d signed at nineteen. She’d taken it to an entertainment lawyer in secret once. After reading it, the woman had been incredulous at the terms, but had told Dahlia it was virtually unbreakable. It was possible, she advised, that they could prove the terms and conditions were onerous, but it would be a long and expensive fight. Dahlia didn’t have the money for that, so she would just have to wait it out.
It was only a little more than a week now. Emboldened by the reminder, Dahlia squared her shoulders.
“I know what the contract says,andthat it expires soon.”
Victor scoffed. “That’s just a formality. I’ve already got the papers ready for you to sign.”
“I’m not sure itisjust a formality.”
“Don’t forget what I know about you! If I air your dirty little secrets, your career will be over before it has a chance to really begin,” Victor hissed.
Dahlia loudly slammed the cabinet door she’d opened to get a coffee mug. She was sick of his constant threats! But Victor was right. Her entire public persona was a lie. Dahlia would have to come clean eventually, but she’d wanted to clear up some loose ends first.
“James Bloom is talking to the DA, and they’ve said, considering my cooperation, they most likely won’t pursue any charges against me for being at the casino. That’s agoodthing, Victor.”
James had called her the previous afternoon to give her an update. She was disappointed when the deep voice on the end ofthe phone wasn’t Luke’s—which was stupid. It hadn’t occurred to her until later to question how she’d known the voice was James’s and not Luke’s.
Probably because the deep voice hadn’t set the butterflies in motion.
Dahlia was relieved when James told her the DA was unlikely to pursue an investigation of her and that the pictures had helped. He reminded her she would still need to be careful with the public comments she made, but that there was nothing to worry about.
“I’ll pick you up and drive you to the two interviews. The first one is downtown, right? ATC?” Victor named the large Atlanta-based news organization.
Dahlia sighed. Was it worth having an argument about this now?
“Yeah, then there’s a walk and talk at the Botanical Gardens forEntertainment Now!magazine.”
“Huh. I might skip that one. It’s too damn hot. I’ll pick you up for the first one.”
“Actually, I have a nail appointment first,” Dahlia lied. “I’ll meet you there.” She expected Victor to argue, but his hatred of sitting in the salon was stronger than his desire to shadow her.
“Fine. Tell the lawyer not to come.”
Dahlia hummed a sound that Victor obviously took as agreement. She had no intention of telling James not to come.
Putting both the outfits she planned on wearing during the interviews into a hang up bag, she chugged two mugs of coffee before heading to a spin class. She got home just in time to wash her hair. Dahlia considered giving herself a blowout, but with the humidity, it was pointless. Instead, she pulled her thick auburn locks into a high ballet bun.
That should at least help keep me cool during the outdoor interview.
The car dropped her off outside the tall building downtown that was home to ATC’s Atlanta studios. A quick scan of the sidewalk didn’t reveal either James or Victor. Heat radiated off the cement, and Dahlia opted to wait inside.
The marble lobby was massive. She followed a security guard’s direction to a bank of elevators, and rode to the sixteenth floor, where she was led to a dressing room. Dahlia had chosen an eggplant-colored wrap dress and heels for this interview. She liked how it gave the illusion of curves—something she wasn’t particularly blessed with.
Victor would think it was too conservative, but she thought it was sexy, in a classy way. That was the image she was trying to build.
The outfit was a far cry from the daisy dukes and pushup bras Victor had insisted she wear when she first started auditioning. He was convinced it was the only way she would be noticed. Dahlia had definitely gotten attention from certain casting directors and producers, but not the kind where anyone took her seriously as an actress.
She wanted serious roles. Maybe even perform in a play. For that, Dahlia needed to dress like a mature adult—not a pinup. Not that she’d ever had the measurements for that. Much to Victor’s consternation, she continually put her foot down about getting any surgical enhancements. Even at nineteen, Dahlia wanted to be known for more than just a good pair of tits, as Victor referred to them.
A man with a headset stepped into the doorway. “Your team is here.”
