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The oldest love affair in Hollywood is that of an actor with themself. It’s not so much that they love who they are—but they fall for that image on the screen. They fall for the way that the public looks at them. They fall for the story that they’re telling. But the problem is, that story is a lie. The affair is a farce. Eventually, they realize that, and that is when things typically seem to fall apart.
This wasn’t just rich people—this was Hugh Iverson and Nora Kemp, Hollywood’s golden couple.
Trent had given
them a bad-boy vibe, while Hugh rocked those same classic good looks with a Prince Charming perfection.
She acted like it was easy, but she had no idea how many women had died.
I’m not the first dead one. At the time that I’m writing this, there have been at least four of us killed.
A weaker woman would have swooned, but Farah was too cynical for that. The monologue was flawless, and she critically analyzed the tone, the energy, the man before her, whose perfect edges were fraying and cracking before their eyes. If he was acting, he was the best actor in the world. But that right there was the problem. He was.
We don’t always know everything about our spouses. Trust me on that.”
She had taken his hand and placed it between her legs. “Because right now, I need both chaos and stability. One day, I promise, I’ll get over that and only be with you. He’ll understand.”
One lost brother, a ship at sea that didn’t know whether to moor to Nora or tie an anchor to her chest.
When Nora stepped in front of Hugh, she was a project, a future star with unlimited potential, a career that he could engineer for success. When Nora stepped in front of Trent, she was a sexual goddess he craved with an addiction unmatched by drugs or alcohol.
No, Nora had needed both the security of Hugh and the passion of Trent.
It made your love more desperate, and it wasn’t me against you and Miles anymore. We were united, and it was like it was before—
You just kept going. Kept working. Kept living, while I went crazy inside myself. I went crazy and you never even noticed a thing.
A woman’s heart should never have to defend itself against twins, especially not when they came in such irresistible packaging.
That was the problem with being a parent in this business. The love was like a weight around your mind, dragging you down into the depths of what could happen to them. And in this town, that was a big depth with no bottom in sight.
The truth was so much more fun, and it was always findable, once you knew what you were hunting for.
“Hey, that’s the problem with Hollywood. We’re in a sea of professional liars and seducers.” “And killers.”
From the glass cabinet behind him, Hugh’s Academy Award glinted at them, as if reminding them of his abilities.
he pressed his mouth to hers, and it was like it used to be—raw desperation and need. Only now it wasn’t forbidden and hot; it was just the two of them, standing in Hugh’s rose garden, waiting for their new world to collapse.
“We’re professional liars. What part of that is confusing to you guys? We stand in front of the camera and lie. We play pretend.
know that you must think terrible things of me, but my life was like a house of mirrors where my heart didn’t know what to trust and what to fall in love with.
Wouldn’t so much as touch him. She burned one child with the heat of
her affection and froze the other one out. She was horrible.”
“I’m a lot like him—like both of them. A pretty exterior that distracts and hides a whole mess of crazy.”
The details, Hugh had always taught her, were what cinched an act. Minor details that sold the big picture.
