It may be a bit cliche but that saying about timing, it's true. Even if you found the right person, the timing may not always be right, and the fact that your relationship would be with the entire British Commonwealth can be a bit of a turn-off.
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"The battles that count aren't the ones for gold medals. The struggles within yourself – the invisible battles inside all of us – that's where it's at." –Jesse Owens
September 2019, Present day - Melany's House in Beverly Hills, CA
Beth is helping put some boxes into the back of Gavine's Range Rover. "I'm really terrible at comforting people in moments like this. I think what happened truly sucks, and I'm sorry you feel you have to leave LA," Beth says as she gives the box a hard shove to make it fit.
Gavine smiles at Beth. She's small yet freakishly strong. She moves behind her to help readjust the box. "No worries. It's best this way. It's been a total media circus since we announced our divorce. I need to go back to my roots, be close to friends and family and regroup." Gavine puts the last of her suitcases into the back seat. "Thanks for being so flexible and willing to move to San Francisco. I know this is above and beyond your pay grade," Gavine chuckled.
"I enjoy working for you, and I didn't enjoy being with my boyfriend anymore." She fixes her blond pony tail, it had loosened while moving boxes, as she says, "I'm ready for a new adventure. It's not as if we're moving across the country or the world. It's a quick flight or a six-hour drive. No biggie." Beth smiles up at her boss. She's 5'2" almost a foot shorter than Gavine, and petite yet busty. She's a beautiful girl and also ten years younger than Gavine. Except you couldn't tell Gavine was 36. "I know you'd be lost without me." She flashes her a huge smile.
"You are so right!" Gavine gives Beth a knowing wink.
She became Gavine's personal assistant right out of grad school. She had a master's in English, specializing in journalism. Gavine needed someone to help her do research for her medical thrillers she decided she wanted to try writing. Three years and four bestsellers later she was still by Gavine's side.
Gavine was glad Melany suggested that she get a personal assistant, because out of the hundreds of applicants the agency sifted through, Beth's resume rose to the top. It wasn't just her impeccable resume, but she exuded competence, authenticity, and a sweetness Gavine thought she needed in her life. Especially, after living in the plastic-make-believe world that was Hollywood.
"I'm looking forward to going back to practicing medicine and teaching." She says while standing in the driveway with her hands on her hips, akimbo. She's wearing khaki shorts, a fitted black polo shirt, black with white striped Adidas, and a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses.
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Melany is standing in front of the door holding their daughter, Cecilia. She watches as Gavine is telling Beth something, she's far enough away she can't actually hear what they are saying. She admires Gavine's tall frame and strong build. She's standing with her hands resting on her hips. She can see the taught muscles on her forearms. Arms that use to hold her at night and made her feel safe and secure. Now, they were no longer going to be arms that held or comforted her. Once the papers were signed and filed with the court, they would become legal strangers. The only thing tying them together was their beautiful 6-month old daughter.
