Making It, #2

by Christina Ross

  “Just think of them this way,” I said as I tried to get hold of myself. “Think of them as happy tears meant for a friend who has the potential to go on to better things.”

  “There’s more to them than that,” he said.

  I took a deep, calming breath when he said that, then I kissed him a final time on the lips before I asked him to go.

  “Before I see Pepper, I need to pull myself together. When you see her, could you do me a solid and give me five minutes before you ask her to join me? Because I sure as hell can’t face her looking like this.”

  “I’m in love with you, Julia,” he said.

  And there it was—right out in the open—an admission that literally shook me.

  “Hunter . . .”

  “I am. I know it sounds insane, I know it’s only been a month, but that’s nevertheless how I feel. I’m in love with you. I know that I am because I’ve never been in love before—but I am now. And you need to know that.” He brushed the back of his hand against my damp cheeks. “Do you feel the same?”

  “I won’t answer that, because I can’t answer that.”

  “Then you are in love with me.”

  Am I?

  Yes, you are . . .

  Before I could respond, he stood.

  “I’ll give you five minutes before I send Pepper in,” he said.

  “After you admitting that you’re in love with me, could you maybe make it ten?” I said.

  “Got it,” he said with a smile.

  When he opened the door and walked through it, I sat down on one of the benches, I tucked my head between my knees—and then I totally lost it in a series of heaving sobs that literally rattled me to my core.

  Girl, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve done your best not to get in the way of his decision. You’ve done the right thing.

  Bitch, please. This girl seriously needs to be kicked in the ass, because she may have just lost the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

  Girls? Whatever I’ve done, it was done with Hunter’s best interests in mind—not mine. If Hunter and I are meant to be, then we’ll be. If not, there’s nothing I can do about that now, because everything depends on his reaction to that damned script tomorrow . . .

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, when Pepper joined me in the Confessional, it was clear that Hunter had allowed me an extra five minutes to pull myself together before he’d sent her in. And thank goodness he had, because that time had been put to good use. While I didn’t look my best, those five extra minutes had at least allowed me to get my emotions under control, for which I was grateful.

  “Hey, hotness,” Pepper said as she stepped into the small space with me.

  “How are you, Pepper?” I said as I stood to hug her.

  “Honestly? I’ve been better and I’ve been worse,” she said as she returned my embrace.

  “Today’s been a rough day,” I said.

  “For my mother and for Lexi.”

  “I was also talking about you . . .”

  “Sweetie, I’ve got the skin of a rhinoceros. I can take whatever hits come my way. But my mother? She can’t, because she’s too fragile. And that’s why I went all in today.”

  “How about if we close the door and sit down?” I asked.

  “Right,” Pepper said as she closed the door behind her and sat down next to me. “First things first. Are we on camera right now?”

  “No,” I said. “You and I can talk freely here. None of this is being recorded.”

  “Good,” she said. “Because after today, you and I need to talk without any of this shit being aired to the world.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I said.

  And then she looked hard at me. “Why are your eyes so red and swollen? Did that bitch punch you or something? While you were trying to help her? Because I wouldn’t put that past her . . .”

  “No, no—it’s just my allergies,” I lied, not wanting her to catch a whiff of what was going down between Hunter and me. “Today has been hell on my allergies.”

  “Got it,” she said. “My father suffers from them. I mean, they pretty much kill him this time of year.”

  “Do you have allergies?” I asked.

  “I do,” she said.

  “What do you suffer from?”

  “Mold,” she said as she stretched out her arms and looked at her flawless nails. “It’s a specific sort with an odd name. I think it’s a strain called ‘Lexi Reynolds.’”

  “You do make me laugh,” I said to her with a smile.

  She gave me a peck on the cheek for that.

  “I’m glad I do, because after the kind of shit I pulled on her today? And by extension, also on you? I know full well that what I did to Lexi couldn’t have been easy on you, Julia. So, let me say this. Yes, it’s true that I couldn’t give a damn about how those bugs affected her when they bit her ass this evening, but I need you to know that when I decided to go through with my devious little plan earlier today, I did worry about how the situation might affect you, if only because I had a feeling that it likely would be you who’d be saddled with the clean-up. And you were. I’ve put you through hell today, and I’m genuinely sorry about that. Did any of them bite you?”

  I took her hand when she said that, and squeezed it.

  “No,” I said. “But they did bite the hell out of her.”

  “How’s the old girl holding up?”

  “I don’t even want to know what she’s going to look like tomorrow. Or for the rest of the week, for that matter. I mean, they bit her everywhere, Pepper.”

  “Good,” she said. “Because nobody goes after my mother, Julia. And if they do, especially as publicly as Lexi chose to do so? The moment I saw that the press were latching onto the story about my mother’s stint in rehab—where she’s fighting for her damned life, for God’s sake—I knew that I had to send Lexi a message that was so threatening, she’d never dare to go after my mother again.”

  “I’m pretty much certain you’ve accomplished that,” I said.

  “I hope I have, because despite all appearances to the contrary, I love my mother more than anything or anyone in the world. Before Dad left us, my mother and I had this super strong, amazing, mother-daughter relationship, friendship, bond. Back in the day, Mom and I used to have so much fun together, whether it came to shopping or dining out—or, you know, just hanging out together. But when she became depressed after the divorce and she turned to the bottle, I became angry with her for not fighting back harder. You know, for choosing not to be stronger without a man in her life. Now that I’ve been separated from her for a month while doing this show, don’t think for one moment that I haven’t reflected on my own behavior in the wake of their divorce. I mean, remember when she and I first met with you and Harper? You know, when I made a stupid, spoiled ass out of myself and demanded that I get my mother a drink, which only made matters worse by normalizing her addiction? By mocking it? I feel sick about all of it, because by doing so, I was complicit in my mother’s addiction. I can’t even tell you how much I regret that.”

  “Pepper, when we regret, we grow . . .”

  Her eyes flashed with tears when I said that, and she looked away from me in shame. This was the real Pepper Winters I was seeing right now, and the moment wasn’t lost on me, because she’d never shared herself like this with me since we first met. This was a girl broken by divorce, the pain of watching her mother succumb to addiction, and her need to rise above it all by making something of herself in the process. She’d succeeded at that, but at what cost?

  Clearly, that cost had been dire, because after the hell that had been today, she was baring her soul to me now.

  “People think you have it all, don’t they?” I asked her as I placed my hand on her thigh, which was trembling. “You don’t have to answer, because I know they do. Everyone has their own ideas when it comes to you, particularly since you’re the daughter of a billionaire. And because of that, a goo
d deal of the world naively thinks you live a gilded life with zero problems, because money just magically fixes everything, right? Wrong. We both know better. But that assumption nevertheless brings its share of pressures, doesn’t it? I mean, you must feel that you need to be seen as perfect by the world, which is one of the reasons I believe you turned to your makeup tutorials. And why you succeeded so well with them.”

  Without looking at me, she said in a trembling voice, “Makeup has the power to paint the pain away.”

  “How much pain have you painted away, Pepper?”

  “I don’t know, Julia. Like, thousands of makeup tutorials’ worth?”

  “In each and every one of those tutorials, what I hope you know is that despite the reasons you made them, you’ve changed people’s lives because of them, Pepper. There isn’t one of us who hasn’t felt ugly at some time in our lives—inside or out. And regardless of the reasons why we feel that way, what you’ve shown people through your videos is how to look at themselves in new, fresh ways through the power of makeup. What I hope you understand at some point in your life is that all of us wear masks, Pepper. For instance, I could be having the worst day of my life right now—which maybe I am. But with the illusion of a good outfit, makeup and hair, I still could show up to work with a bright smile on my face, and no one would know how broken I was feeling inside. What you’ve created with your makeup tutorials has helped millions of women—young and old—fight through difficult times in their lives, because sometimes? When you’re able to look in the mirror and see yourself at your best despite how terrible you’re feeling due to whatever the hell you’re going through? Jesus, Pepper, that alone can get you through another minute. Another hour. Another day.”

  “Have you ever been in that place?” she asked me.

  “Of course I have. I mean, I’m human, and you’ve had the sad fate of seeing me at my worst, which is pretty much how I look after standing in a shower while trying to get Lexi in line. I’m a horror show right now, and I know it.”

  “Oh, you are not,” she said dismissively. “And if I ever made you feel that way when we first met, I need to apologize for that, Julia. Because you are one badass boss bitch. I mean, in my opinion? You are fabulous. All you needed from me was to tweak a few things, which you corrected flawlessly.”

  “I took everything you said to me to heart,” I said. “But how about you, sweetie? How do you feel in your own skin?”

  “My own skin?” she said with a laugh. “Julia, I hate the skin I live in. I despise it.”

  The fact that she’d just admitted that took me aback, even though I’d long felt that Pepper’s intimidating facade was indeed a facade. But there it was, right in front of me—the truth laid bare. So, I decided to gently press her on that, because I knew there was a reason she’d just shared that information with me. She wanted me to explore it. My girl was ready to talk . . .

  “Why?” I asked.

  “It’s complicated . . .”

  “How complicated?”

  For a long moment, she went silent on me before she simply tapped her index finger against the side of her nose.

  “I wasn’t exactly born with this,” she said.

  “Your nose?”

  “Yeah, my nose. What I have now isn’t quite the one God gave me,” she said.

  “Pepper, if you’ve had a nose job, whoever performed the procedure did a beautiful job. Because your nose is perfect. Looking at it, I never would have guessed that you’d had work done.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “But if you had seen it before? As so many other people had before you came into my life? You’d be gagging right now, Julia, just as all of my peers did time and again when I was growing up. My original nose was that awful. It was long, fat, and wide. But now? After going under the knife? Not so much.”

  “Were you bullied because of it?” I asked.

  “To say the least, which is why my mother intervened before I went to middle school. She took me to her plastic surgeon, that man created a miracle when he took a chisel to my nose, and after a summer’s recuperation? I went into a private middle school with a fresh group of people I didn’t know. The face those people first saw was this face,” she said, pointing at it. “And it was only because my mother was sensitive enough to see what I was going through at my former school that she spared me from suffering through even more grief when I moved to a new school. I’m grateful to her for that. But to be seriously honest with you? I still see myself as the chick with the ugly, bulbous nose.” She shrugged at me. “It’s screwed up, isn’t it?”

  “Actually, it isn’t,” I said. “Because what I can tell you at this point in my life is that some of the deepest cuts we suffer in our lives come from our childhoods. That’s when shit really can take a lasting toll. It doesn’t happen so much in adulthood, because at that point, we’ve pretty much learned how to deal with the petty bullshit that comes our way. So, I have to give it to your mother, Pepper. Because of whatever issues you had when it came to your nose, Savannah must have sensed in her heart that you were going through a difficult time of it before she chose to fix it forever. It’s clear that she wanted to lessen your pain before you went to a new school. So, I have to ask. After the surgery, what was your life like when you left your haters behind and started at your new school?”

  She laughed when I asked that.

  “Why are you laughing?” I asked.

  “I’m laughing because I don’t even know what to say,” she said. “I mean, after my nose job, I became weirdly popular. For the first time in my life, people actually wanted to be friends with me—and they did so in droves. And don’t think for one moment that I didn’t view it all with one huge dose of cynicism, because I did then—and I still do now. Apparently, I entered that school with an ‘acceptable’ nose. It was also at that point that my makeup tutorials started to become popular on YouTube. When word got out that I was the girl behind them, it was like someone flipped a switch, because the moment people realized how popular I was on YouTube, I quickly became the most popular girl in school.”

  “Jesus,” I said. “Pepper, I never knew any of this about you.”

  “Well, now, you do,” she said with a shy, vulnerable smile as she placed her hand on my knee. “And it’s only because I want you to know my story, Julia. I see you as a friend now—and I never lie to my friends. I see you representing me for the rest of my life, and because of that, I know that I have to start opening up to you when it comes to my past. People think my life has been nothing but a bucket filled with roses. And to be fair, yes, in many ways it has been. But in other ways—which only a few people know about—it’s been far from that. Look, I know how fortunate I am. I’m not about to go all pity party on you right now—especially since I know how lucky I am to have been born into a family with means. But because of the bullying—and then when it came to my parents’ hideous divorce—you need to know that what I’m saying to you now is the truth. And that I feel safe enough with you to share everything with you—even when it comes to admitting to my damned nose job.”

  When she said that, I placed my hand over hers, and thanked her for having the courage to open up to me. Because for a girl as young as she was? That had taken courage. I knew that the world at large saw Pepper Winters as someone the gods had smiled upon. In some ways she was, but in other ways she wasn’t. If anything, she was the very definition of the mask I’d thought about earlier.

  “Look, Julia, don’t look so sad, because I’m fine now. For better or worse, I’m the person I am today because of the bullying I endured when I was younger, the divorce I suffered through with my parents, the success I achieved through my videos, and that abject fear I felt over the past year when I saw my mother destroying herself with alcohol. And even though everyone around me thinks I have my shit together? Julia, even I know that’s not true. I go out of my way not show it, but inside?” she said as she tapped a finger against her chest. “Much of me is still a mess.”

&
nbsp; “Pepper, I’m sorry for all of it,” I said.

  “Julia, you’re a good person, but seeking your pity isn’t the reason I wanted to share my life with you. So, let me say it again. I shared those things with you because I feel that you and I are going to have a long professional and personal relationship. I like, admire, and love you that much. But you need to know when it comes to people like Lexi—who truly has it out for me—that I will slap them down. If she had come after me personally? I would have handled it differently. But since she dared to come after my mother, you need to know that I love my mother so much, I hit back hard for a reason. Now you know why I did what I did today, which I hope you understand.”

  “You love your mother . . .” I said.

  “More than you know, and more than I expressed when we first met. I’m scared for her, Julia, but after a month in rehab, she appears to be taking her sobriety seriously. And because she decided to remain in rehab even when they decided she was fine and free to go, I’m more hopeful than I’ve ever been for her. And because of that, no bitch like Lexi is going to get away with publicly shaming my mother without some severe consequences. Because I will promise you this as long as you agree to represent me—I’m having none of that. Because of what Lexi did, she and the other girls need to know the ramifications of outing my mother’s personal issues, which is why I did what I did today. I did it all to send a message to them. Come after my mother, and I’ll come after you.”

  “Pepper, you’re a good daughter,” I said.

  “I haven’t always been, but that doesn’t mean I can’t become one,” she said to me. “And I plan to. No longer will I be the daughter who mixes drinks for my mother, which I regret—those days are gone. When I stupidly behaved that way in front of you and Harper, it was out of anger, fear, and frustration—but that’s not what my mother needs from me right now. What she needed from me then—and what she needs from me now—is for me to fully support her in her sobriety. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  At that moment, a knock came at the door.