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Growing up on the wrong side of the tracks in Bend, Mississippi, Becky Lynn Lee doesn't have the luxury of dreaming. With an abusive father and a broken mother, she always thought that this was it. But after the ultimate betrayal, Becky Lynn can no longer live the nightmare.
Determined never to go back, Becky Lynn escapes to Hollywood. As a photographer's assistant, she discovers a talent for spotting beauty and capturing the perfect shot. When the camera eventually turns on her, the awkward, shy Becky Lynn of her childhood disappears. But when the success she's achieved is threatened, Becky Lynn must find the strength to embrace her new identity and put the ugliness of her past behind her forever.
took a deep breath and followed her into the changing room, slamming the door shut behind him. She whirled, the towel clutched to her chest. “Do you mind?” She’d been crying; the tears had made tracks through her makeup, ruining it. Carlo leaned against the door and folded his arms across his chest. “No, I don’t mind. In fact, the view from here is rather nice.” “Get out.” She glared at him. “Now.” “I think we should become lovers.” She took a step backward, eyes widening. “What?” “I want
hands to her face. They had begun to rip at her, tearing at her clothes and hair and skin, clawing off the illusion of beauty Carlo had created for her. She had cried for them to stop; she had tried to act like Valentine but when she had, they had heckled and jeered at her. She wasn’t Valentine, they had chanted. She was ugly Becky Lynn Lee, poor white trash. Breathing deeply once more, Becky Lynn dragged her hands through her hair. What was she going to do? Tonight hadn’t been the first time
sweet against his wrists. After a moment, the burning sensation passed, replaced by a vague, reassuring numbness. Carlo leaned his head against the spa side and dreamed of endless blue skies and the sweet absence of pain. 54 Unable to quell the sense of urgency clawing at his gut, Jack changed lanes, roared around several cars, then cut them all off to fly down an exit. He flipped on the car radio. Jackson Browne’s classic “Running on Empty” was winding down, fading into a more recent
neck. She selected a shady spot under a big, old oak tree, sank to the ground and dug her soft drink out of her bag. She popped the top and took a long swallow. The sweet, fizzy drink tickled her throat and nose, and she took another long swallow before easing her head against the tree and closing her eyes. Becky Lynn held the cool can to her forehead, smiling to herself, thinking again of her mother’s words…and of the day she would leave Bend behind forever. Her smile faded. But leaving Bend
the floor. It crashed into a light stand, toppling it. “Becky Lynn! Don’t go like this!” She heard him on the stairs behind her; he called her yet again. She didn’t stop, didn’t look back. She couldn’t bear to see him wrapped in that damning blanket, his expression full of pity. But not regret. He didn’t even care that he had hurt her. She burst through the front door and outside. It had begun to rain. For long moments, she stood frozen to the spot, heart racing, rain mingling with her tears.