by Claire Raye
I sound defeated once again, beaten down by Noel indirectly. No matter what I do I can’t seem to get away from him.
“As much as this all sucks, I think you’ll be happy you met with him,” Ava adds, but there’s no way happiness will be involved in this meeting.
“Yeah, okay.” My words are short and suddenly this whole conversation feels like a dream. Is this really happening? Will my name ever not be associated with Noel Robinson?
“I’m sorry, Sadie. I really am, but I promise you, Roger will…”
I cut her off. I can’t listen to the pity I continue to hear in her voice. I don’t deserve it. “I know you are and it’s okay. I wasn’t forced to marry him. I wasn’t forced to stay. And I wasn’t forced to protect him. I did this all on my own. Thanks for the heads up.”
I close out the conversation quickly, hanging up before she can say anything more.
I toss my phone on the rumpled white sheets, a reminder that just moments ago I was happy, a reminder that I’m hiding from everything.
My phone vibrates with a text, but I don’t bother looking at the screen. It takes me a few seconds to pull myself back together, pushing back the tears that threaten to escape.
I step outside into the sunshine, leaning against the glass railing as I look out onto the view of L.A. Just like Ava’s phone call, it’s all a reminder that I left London. I left because I was once again running away.
I can hear Paul coming up the stairs and I quickly swipe at my eyes, but I don’t turn around when I hear him enter the bedroom.
“How’d the call go?” he asks, coming up behind me.
“It was fine.” Every word that comes out of my mouth sounds like a lie and there’s no way he doesn’t notice.
“What did she have to say?” he now asks, but he isn’t prying. I know Paul is concerned about me, and his questions are only there to support me.
“She wants me to meet with the reporter who is doing the story on Noel.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, wondering why the hell I even agreed to when I was on the phone with Ava.
“Why wouldn’t you?” he asks back, his arms slipping around my waist and pulling me into his chest. There’s something so comforting about him. The smell of his skin, the warmth I feel when he’s touching me, but it still does nothing to ease the anxiety I feel coursing through me.
“Aren’t you ever afraid of the unknown? There’s so much unknown in all of this and I don’t know if I’m…”
Paul’s words interrupt me before I can finish. “Are you sure it’s the unknown you’re afraid of?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders but give no other response.
“I think you’re afraid of the truth,” he says, his chin now resting on the top of my head. “You’re afraid of what has been out there all along, afraid of it being said out loud and confirming what you’ve been hiding.
“I’m not hiding anything,” I quickly bite out, that defensiveness back again.
“I’m not saying you’re hiding it purposely, but I think you’ve had an idea of what’s been happening, an idea of what he’s done, but saying it out loud is a hell of a lot harder than keeping it inside your head.”
“I don’t want to know what he’s done,” I whisper, my words nearly lost in the air, swallowed up by the din of the city wordlessly moving in the background.
“I know you don’t, because it’s going to hurt.” Paul’s arms hold me tighter, my face now buried in his chest.
I nod my head, but say nothing more because speaking right now will bring tears, tears I’m not entitled to because I was just as much a part of this as Noel is.
“I think you should call him and as hard as it’s going to be, it’s for the best. Knowing what his article says may help you come to terms with what’s happened.”
Come to terms with what’s happened.
His words ring loud in my ears. I’m going to need to do a hell of a lot more than come to terms with what’s happened. I’m going to need a fucking therapist to sort through it all. I’ve kept it all a well-buried secret, not just from the press, but also from my family, my friends and myself.
A lump forms in my throat as my thoughts are consumed with everything that has plagued me over the years. All those times I turned my back when I should’ve spoken up, all those times when I walked away because hearing him or seeing his behavior was too much to bear. But more than any of this, I think about one thing specifically. It’s the one thing that has stayed hidden, the one thing I’ve told myself can’t possibly be happening, but I knew it was.
Deep down I knew it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Paul
Sadie and I stand on the balcony, both of us lost in thoughts of her ex-husband and all the shit we both know he’s said and done. I don’t need Sadie to tell me any of it or to confirm the rumors that have run rampant through Hollywood for years.
Because I know most of them are true.
I’ve seen it with my own eyes, having worked on several of his movies in the past. I know these stories all originate in a truth. A truth so many of us are guilty of ignoring and pretending never happened.
The way he treats his staff, the humiliation and the constant walking on eggshells he puts them through. The way he treats his movie stars; swinging from nauseating flirting to outright hostility. The way he uses them, forces them to do things they are clearly uncomfortable doing. And the way he doesn’t give a shit who he steps on, or who he pushes aside to get what he wants—including his wife.
It’s something I’ve watched happen and it’s something I’ve never liked. But it’s also something I’ve ignored like everyone else, figuring I was too much of a nobody to ever make a difference by speaking out.
But now people are speaking out. Everyone except the one person I know must hold more secrets than anyone else. Secrets no one knows about.
It kills me that she’s forced to carry this burden, to be faced with this decision, knowing the difference it could potentially make to so many people.
“You okay?” I eventually ask, knowing she’s not and probably won’t be for a very long time.
Sadie shrugs in my arms, her cheek still resting on my chest.
“How about we do something fun today?” I suggest now, not wanting to waste anymore time thinking about this. “Don’t think about whether you should talk to this reporter,” I add, kissing the top of her head. “And don’t try to imagine what kind of story he might have written. Let’s just take the day. Forget about everything else except you and me having some fun.”
Sadie looks up at me, her chin resting on my chest. “What do you suggest?” she asks.
I smile down at her, before leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. “Well, we could go back to bed,” I whisper. “I believe you might have mentioned something about round two?”
Sadie finally cracks a smile. “I could be talked into that.”
My head falls back with laughter. “Talked into it?” I repeat, shaking my head as though I can’t believe it’s come to this. “I’ve gotta convince you it’s a good idea?”
Sadie laughs, her hands sliding up my back as she pulls me closer. “No, you don’t have to talk me into anything, Paul,” she murmurs. “I’d gladly go back to bed with you.”
“Good answer.”
A couple of hours later and Sadie and I are finally dragging ourselves from her bed, both of us decidedly more relaxed than we were this morning after Ava’s phone call. There’s been no more talk about the reporter or the story we both know is coming. No more talk of Noel either and the shit storm we both know this is going to create.
Instead, both of us are all about having fun on a rare day off as we shower, pull on some clothes and then head out to do something neither of us does that often, despite the industry we work in—watch a movie.
“Any preference?” I ask as we head toward the theater.
Sadie gives me a wry smile as
she drives. “Nothing of his.”
I chuckle. “Absolutely not,” I tell her. “What are you in the mood for?”
Sadie shrugs. “I don’t care. Something mindless and entertaining,” she adds, shooting me a quick glance. “The kinda thing I can half watch in case I decide to make out with you in the back row.”
The laugh falls from my mouth as I turn in my seat to face her, my hand resting on the back of her neck. “In case you decide?” I repeat, glad her playful side is back.
“Hmmm,” Sadie says, smirking a little.
“Hmmm indeed,” I say, leaning over the center console as I start to nuzzle her neck. “Consider me ready to convince you then,” I whisper, sucking at the spot just below her ear that always has her melting against me.
Inside the theater, both of us go unnoticed. I’m never actually noticed because no one even knows I’m in the movie industry. Being a stunt man means I’m never seen, constantly made up or framed to look like the lead actor.
It’s good because I can do a job I love in an industry I enjoy working in, without all the bullshit that the full-blown movie stars have to put up with. My life is normal even if I do get invited to movie premieres and regularly mingle with award winning movie stars.
Sadie though, with everything that happened on her last movie with Noel, is definitely a person most people now recognize. Particularly with their divorce and her clearly making a move to distance herself from him with her new movie and her move back to L.A.
“Popcorn?”
I smile, slinging an arm around her shoulder as we wait at the counter. “Hell yes I want popcorn,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “If we’re making out in the back row, I want the whole movie experience.”
Sadie giggles, her head falling against my shoulder as I buy our tickets, a massive tub of popcorn, two sodas and a box of M&Ms.
“We’re going to need to hit the gym after this,” she says, as we make our way into the already darkened theater.
“Don’t worry,” I say as I hobble up to the back row. “I’ve got the perfect workout in mind.”
We end up settling on the latest Fast & Furious movie, which I’m actually interested in seeing, even though I make good on my promise to convince Sadie about the making out part. The two of us are like a pair of horny teenagers, kissing and groping each other in the back row and given how empty the theater is, it’s tempting to try and take things even further.
I force myself to hold back though, knowing if we got caught, this would absolutely not be good publicity for Sadie.
After the movie, we head outside, both of us turning our phones back on as we head toward the car. Almost immediately, we are both hit with the sounds of incoming messages, as though something major has gone down in the two hours we’ve both had them off during the movie.
I glance at the screen of my mine as Sadie does the same with hers.
“Oh shit,” she mutters and I immediately know why.
My screen is filled with text messages and missed calls. From my sister, from Gus, from other friends back in Canada, all asking the same thing.
Are you really dating her?
You know she’s married right?
What about Helena?
God, Helena. I’m sure she’d be messaging me too if I hadn’t blocked her number on my phone. But either way, yeah, I am dating her and no she’s not exactly married anymore, so why is this such a big deal. We never tried to hide what was going on between us, the whole cast and crew know. God even her ex-husband knows.
But just as I think this, Sadie’s words from last night come back to me.
He’s not signing the divorce papers.
A heavy weight lodges itself in my stomach as I turn to Sadie, knowing exactly what’s going to be on her phone now too. This isn’t about me and her, not even close. It’s about Sadie and Noel, Hollywood’s golden couple.
“What’s happened?” I ask her as she flicks through the messages on her screen.
Sadie shakes her head, her phone vibrating now with an incoming call from Shannon. I watch as she immediately sends it to voicemail, her fingers once again flicking up the screen, before she opens the web browser app and types in her and Noel’s names.
The articles load immediately, headlines filling the tiny screen but somehow still screaming their message loud and clear to the world.
“Two-Timing Sadie – walks out on their movie & dumps him for a younger man.”
“Hollywood golden couple marred by cheating scandal – and it’s not who you think!”
“Noel Robinson: fighting to save his marriage as his career soars.”
“Fucking hell,” I say, reaching for Sadie’s phone as I close the app. “These people have no fucking idea.”
Sadie turns to me, worry and confusion all over her face as she says, “Let’s go home. I need to make some calls.”
“Sadie,” I say, hands on her shoulders. “Talk to me.”
She nods once, even as she says, “Not here.”
I know she’s right, even if I desperately want to sort this out right now, to reassure her that all of this gossip is just that, gossip.
He’s going to make this hell for me, for us…
The words ring loudly in my ears, reminding me once again of just how much power this guy has. Not just in the industry, but over his wife’s life as well. And as much as I know Sadie is distancing herself from him, that she doesn’t want to reconcile their marriage or their working relationship, I know her words are true.
He does have power and he does have the ability to make this hell for her.
The car ride home is quiet, neither of us talking much as Sadie navigates her way back to her home in the Hollywood Hills. Just as she makes the turn into her street, I turn to her, unable to keep quiet any longer.
“You know I’m not running from this, right?” I say, my hand squeezing her knee. “He doesn’t scare me and neither do those headlines.”
Sadie nods, glancing quickly at me before turning back to the street. “I know,” she says. “But he’s gonna spin this in his favor, you know that, right?”
“So we spin it in ours,” I say quickly, turning in my seat. “Talk to the reporter, Sadie. Get your story, your voice out there. Don’t let him dictate the story.”
Sadie’s shaking her head before I’ve even finished. “He’ll spin that too, Paul,” she says sadly. “It’s what he does. Trust me, I know.”
“But…”
“And of course, I haven’t exactly spoken out before,” she adds, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “So I’ll just look bitter and twisted speaking out now, in addition to being the bitch who basically allowed him to do all those things that will be in that story and the cheating whore who’s ruining our marriage.” Her words have a bite.
“Sadie,” I say, pleadingly.
“It’s too hard, Paul,” she says, eyes shining with tears.
“What is?” I immediately ask, my heart thudding in my chest. “Us?”
Sadie shakes her head. “No, not us,” she says sadly. “Him, this, my career or lack of when all this comes out.”
“Sadie,” I repeat, more firmly this time. “I’m not going to let him do that to you, I…”
“You won’t be able to stop it.”
Her words have no malice to them, they’re simply stated as the truth. And deep down, a part of me knows she right too. What the hell can I possibly do? Me, a lowly stunt man who no one even recognizes, much less knows, versus him, the powerful, well-connected Hollywood director.
“Sadie,” I say again. But the rest of my words are cut off as we turn into her drive and the car is suddenly engulfed by paparazzi, cameras flashing and people yelling out to us, searching for comment or answers to the headlines we saw earlier.
Sadie’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel as she buzzes the gate open and drives through, her jaw tight as she looks straight ahead, ignoring the crowd. I turn around, watching as the gates close behind us
, all of them staying on the other side because they know they can’t risk coming into private property.
Up at the house, Sadie switches off the engine but doesn’t move, her hands still gripping the steering wheel as her head falls. I get out and walk around to her side of car, opening her door before leaning in to undo her seat belt.
“Come here,” I say as I gently pull her from the car.
She falls into my arms, her head resting against my chest as I slowly rub my hands up and down her back, my chin resting on the top of her head.
“I need you to do something for me,” I eventually say, gently easing her back so she has to look at me.
“What?”
I smile, brushing a thumb across her lips. “I need you to believe you’re someone in all of this. That no one person, no man, regardless of how powerful or connected he is, no matter who he is, can define you.”
She stares up at me, her eyes wide as they search my face. “He always told me I was nothing without him,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears now.
Her words make me want to hunt him down and kill him, but I know nothing I say or do to him will ever change his views on the world. To him, everything is a commodity, a possession, his for the taking and his for the discarding.
I’ve seen him treat his cast and crew like dirt and as much as I can’t believe he could do it to someone he supposedly loves, I know his wife fell into that same category. God knows what went on behind closed doors.
“So prove him wrong,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her lips. “Prove him wrong.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sadie
I’m on the track to prove him wrong, but there in the back of my mind is that nagging feeling that the other shoe is going to drop. That one day I’m going to look around and Noel will have whisked it all away with one simple interview, one statement about me.