by Claire Raye
He’s that good.
But if I believe everything I’ve been told by Ava and everything that has the press buzzing, a big story is coming. A story that could ruin everything Noel has done, but in ruining him, it will ruin me too.
I’m associated with all his drama. I’ve been with him for ten years, ten years of my life where I turned the other cheek, ten years where I could just as easily be to blame for all of this as him.
The sun is just beginning to set over the lights of Hollywood below us, but the city won’t go dim, the stars will stay up all night and I’ll be here wondering how the hell I get myself out of this situation.
We’ve been by the pool for the last several hours; ordering food and relaxing, and as much as I want to admit what we’re doing is for fun, I’d be lying.
I’m terrified to leave my house, afraid of exposing myself to the multitude of questions and attacks by the paparazzi that will happen if I do. I don’t know what to say to them, but I realize staying quiet makes me look like complacent, guilty even.
I am guilty.
Guilty of what? I don’t even know. I’m about to turn to Paul, ask him what he thinks, but the vibrating of my phone interrupts our conversation. It startles me, because lately it seems like whenever my phone rings, it has something to do with Noel.
I glance down and see my publicist’s name fill the screen, and what fills my body is dread. She can only be calling for one thing and it’s certainly not about publicity for the movie I’m currently working on. No one cares about that when there’s high-quality gossip brewing.
I want to throw my phone in the pool and watch sink to the bottom, drown it along with my thoughts.
“Just answer it,” Paul says, his face a wash of sympathy and concern. “It will be okay. You have to confront this if you want it to stop.”
I nod my head, aware that his words hold more truth than I’m willing to admit.
I answer the call, my voice weak as I greet my publicist, my heart racing at the unknown. My thoughts begin to swirl before she even has a chance to speak and every worst-case scenario passes through my head.
She’s casual in her greeting, never one to overreact to a situation, and honestly, she’s never had to deal with anything that affects me directly. Most of the time she’s doing damage control for Noel’s behavior, responding with things like, “my client isn’t responsible for her husband’s behavior” or “my client wasn’t present at the time that occurred.” They’re all cheap cop-outs and I realize that now. They left me hidden from Noel’s problems when I should have been confronting them. Had I done it back then, I wouldn’t be here right now.
“Hey Sadie. How’s L.A?” she asks as if she’s just calling to catch up.
We don’t catch up. We aren’t friends even though she’s been my publicist for the last twelve years. Sometimes I wonder if we’ve kept our relationship at arm’s length because if we didn’t, she’d be privy to all the tiny details of my life with Noel. No one needs that burden other than me. It’s better this way.
“L.A is good. Missed the sunshine,” I respond, the conversation light, but it doesn’t mean it will stay this way. “How are you?”
“All good here too.” But her words are marred by a pregnant pause, a silence that looms like the dark cloud that is Noel.
“Celia, are you calling about Noel?” I ask, not letting anything linger between us longer than necessary.
“I am,” she admits, letting out a defeated sigh as if she’s been bombarded with calls she can no longer shoo away. “Sadie, he’s on the warpath and he’s taking you with him. Tomorrow a story will break about your affair—”
“I’m not having an affair!” I shout, interrupting her, my words louder than necessary and Paul’s eyes widen just a little when he looks over at me.
“But you are,” she asserts, but her words are soft, almost comforting, like she’s telling me it’s okay.
“But I filed for divorce.” I can hear the defeat in my voice, the tears welling up in my eyes as I begin to wonder if I’m ever going to find a way out of this mess.
“I know you did, but the fact is you are having an affair and nothing the press is releasing is a lie. You know how this all works. Your lawyers have no role in any of this because they’ve taken the truth and made it salacious.”
“So what do I do?” I ask, understanding that releasing a statement of my own is an option, but I’m also aware this could backfire. It would open me up for all the scrutiny I’ve been trying to avoid all these years.
“There are rumors about a reporter,” Celia starts and I nod my head even though she can’t see me. Everything seems to be coming back to The Guardian reporter and his huge story about Noel. His huge story that I’m sure won’t paint me in a favorable light either.
“Yeah, I know. He’s reached out to me a few times.”
“Talk to him,” Celia says, her words firm, as were the words of everyone who has come before her with this same information. “You’ve avoided this for too long.”
She’s right. I have avoided this and the more I sit here and think about it, this isn’t about me any longer. It’s about the other people, the people Noel has hurt. The only way to detach myself from this situation is to attach myself to it.
“You can confirm everything in his article, you know that?” The question hangs at the end of her sentence, waiting for me to agree. We both know I can. There have been only a few sets I haven’t worked on with Noel in the last ten years. What came before me is a mystery, but I know former assistants and anyone looking to get back at Noel have already filled those gaps.
“Yes, I know.”
“Your words mean more than some jilted assistant, some crew member, an angry washed up actor, and not because they’re any less of a person than you or that their story isn’t truthful, but because you’re Sadie Washington. You lived this life, inside and out.”
This article, this reporter will not go away and I know that. His presence will grow bigger and the more I avoid it the more people will push back.
“Can you tell me about the affair article?” I ask, because the contents of this article could push me over the edge. I’m still precariously balancing on that fine line of retreating or exploding.
“Sadie,” she says, a deep exhale falling from her lips with my name. “He just paints himself as the victim. He talks about how your marriage was his everything and he’s devastated over seeing you with another man.”
I roll my eyes, and yep, I’m over that edge now. She doesn’t need to go on. He doesn’t get to be the victim.
I end the call with Celia and let out a hard sigh, scrolling through my texts until I find the one with the reporter’s name and number that Ava sent me, even though I already had his details.
“I’m doing it,” I tell Paul, my eyes focused on the horizon as the sun dips below, calling an end to not only the day but to this mess with Noel.
“Yes!” Paul calls out, thrusting a fist into the air, making me laugh out loud.
“That was a little intense. I’m about to ruin someone’s life.”
“Someone who has ruined yours for the last ten years. He fucking deserves it, Sadie.”
“Yeah, I get that, Paul, but you also need to understand I don’t want to be that person either. I’m torn. You have to understand I feel like I’m doing the same thing by hanging Noel out to dry, too. How is helping this reporter any different than what Noel has done to me all these years? An eye for an eye?”
Paul shakes his head, his arms crossed over his chest as turns to look at me from the lounge chairs we’ve been in for the last few hours.
“It isn’t revenge, Sadie. You need to stop thinking about it like that. It’s redemption. Redemption for you, for the people Noel has abused, and really for anyone who thinks their voice isn’t being heard.”
Working in this industry in the era of the Me Too movement has brought a lot of things to the surface and as I witnessed these brave women tell their
stories, all I could think was that I was part of why it even happened.
“What if I’m to blame for what happened?” I admit out loud, the words finally leaving my head and entering the world. I can’t take them back now.
“How the hell are you to blame for what he did?” Paul snaps, his words angry but not angry with me.
“Because I stayed quiet for so long. Because I worried about myself and no one else. Because he cheated on me and I let it happen.”
That last line comes out in a rush. I don’t know it to be a fact, but I’ve always felt it. There’s so much shame in all of it.
Paul falls silent. I’m sure he’s processing what a fucked up mess this all is. He can’t possibly look at me the same way ever again. He saw me once as a person who commanded a movie set, who cared about the crew and wanted what was best, but now he knows I was part of something that never looked like this.
I was part of the problem.
“You’re done blaming yourself,” he says, his words firm. “I’m done letting you hide from this. He cheated on you because he knew you would stay quiet. He did all those things on set because he knew you and everyone else would stay quiet. Stop staying quiet, Sadie.”
Paul stands up and holds out a hand to me. Taking it, I stand in front of him, afraid of the tears I feel looming, afraid his words hold so much truth and afraid of what’s to come, but he’s right, I can’t stay silent any longer.
“He broke you and he did it on purpose. Take your fucking life back, Sadie,” Paul demands, his hands resting on my shoulders. “Be what all these people need you to be, what you need to be for yourself.”
He’s like a motivational speaker and as much my chest aches with tears, I want to laugh at him too.
“Okay, I got it. You’re a bit too intense here.” I laugh, the tears spilling over but drying up quickly.
“You’ve said a lot of intense things,” Paul jokes back, pulling me into his arms. “And Sadie, if he did cheat on you, it wasn’t your fault. And what you’re doing with me isn’t the same thing. He cheated to hurt you.”
“What are we doing here?”
“You’re healing,” Paul says, and his words make me smile.
I pull back pushing up on my toes as I kiss him softly and slowly, making sure he knows I’m grateful for his existence in my life.
“Thank you. I have no idea what I did to deserve someone like you, but I will forever spend my life making sure you know how grateful I am.”
“You spent ten years with Noel. If that’s not enough of a reason I don’t know what is.”
It’s late by the time I work up the courage to call The Guardian reporter. It’s well after eleven in Los Angeles, but it’s early morning in London. Paul is asleep beside me and I slip from the bed and quietly plod down the stairs and into the office that is adjacent to the kitchen. I don’t want to wake him and in a house like this, sound travels.
I flop down in the desk chair, looking out onto the glow of the city below, light pollution at its best. It burns for miles, nothing to dull its shine. It’s like Noel, but he’s about to fade.
I click the phone number Ava sent me and there’s no turning back now as the line trills once, then twice and he picks up on the third ring.
“Roger Collins,” he says, his accent heavy and something about it makes me miss the quiet life of London.
“Hi Roger. This is Sadie Washington.” My words don’t sound like my own and for a split second it feels like this is all a dream. The room is hazy, a darkness blanketing it and my words sound far away and quiet.
“Sadie, it’s so good to hear from you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Paul
The next day on set, Sadie seems a little different. Not in a bad way, more of a distracted and somehow both less worried and more worried about the things we talked about last night, kinda way.
I understand why she’s so torn up. I mean it’s bad enough she’s trying to end a marriage to a guy who clearly doesn’t care about her anymore—if he ever did. But she has to live that break up in the public eye. Shit, that would be truly awful. And worse still, the narrative of that break up is being dictated by the man who once promised to love her till death do them part.
I can’t imagine how that must feel, that betrayal. My heart breaks for Sadie, but at the same time, I’m consumed by anger toward Noel. I hate that he gets to use his money and his power and his connections to drive this story, to fuck with Sadie and to possibly screw with her and her career.
She doesn’t deserve it and if he ever really loved her, he’d see that.
But shit, maybe he never did, maybe he always viewed their marriage as something more like a business arrangement. One that only benefited him. It would explain the cheating thing Sadie confessed to me last night.
It might explain why she never let him be with her like she has let me, despite the fact they were married. Maybe deep down, she never really trusted him?
I don’t know, it’s a situation I am so unfamiliar with that I can’t possibly comprehend how it must feel. Regardless, I know it’s still affecting her, and it’s enough that I notice it, even if I can’t exactly put my finger on it.
“Hey Paul,” Andrew our stunt coordinator says, walking toward me. “Can I grab you for a sec?”
I glance at Sadie but she’s deep in conversation with her two leads about the next scene they’re due to shoot.
“Sure, what’s up?”
He’s got a script in one hand and his clipboard in the other, and he glances at both before finally looking up at me. “I gotta step out for a week or so,” he says on an exhale. “Maybe more. Jen, she’s…she’s been put on bedrest.”
“Shit, is everything okay?” I ask, knowing his wife is pregnant with their second child.
He nods and shrugs at the same time. “Yeah it will be,” he says. “But I don’t know, something about the placenta and her needing to take it easy and well, I just…I…”
“Andrew,” I say, cutting him off. “What do you need me to do?”
He gives me a half smile. “Do you think you could run things here for a while?” he asks. “Help with getting everyone organized and shit?”
I take a deep breath, shoving a hand through my hair as I take in his request. “You mean like…?”
His smile widens. “Well shit, you can’t exactly be a stunt double with that banged up ankle, so what about stunt coordinator?”
A chuckle falls from my mouth. “You think I could?”
“Paul, please,” Andrew says, handing me his clipboard. “You’ve practically been doing it since you hobbled back on set,” he adds. “You’re a natural.”
I stare back at him, at the man who’s a legend in my line of work not just because of some of the things he pulled off back when he was doing stunts. Since his semi-retirement and move into the role of stunt coordinator, he’s worked on an endless list of blockbuster movies. And he’s always managed to ensure the action scenes and stunts are coordinated and pulled together in a way that looks absolutely effortless.
They’d be big shoes I’d be stepping into.
“You um, you clear it with the boss?” I ask, throwing a thumb over my shoulder to where I know Sadie is.
Andrew grins now, his eyes flicking to Sadie before back to me. “Who do you think suggested the idea?” he asks. “Although to be fair, it was a suggestion I was planning to make anyway.”
All the breath leaves my lungs in one long exhale. Not just at what Andrew’s asking me, but at the thought that Sadie brought it up, that she thinks I could do this for her, for her movie.
Fuck, now I definitely don’t want to fuck it up.
“Paul?” Andrew prompts?
“Yep, yeah, okay,” I say, hand gripping the back of my neck. “I can do it. I will do it.”
Andrew nods, a smile on his face as he says, “I know you can. And look, I can hang around today and take you through things and after that, I’m only ever a phone call away, okay?�
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“Thanks, Andrew, seriously,” I reply, knowing this is exactly what I needed.
It’s not that I’ve felt useless coming to the set with Sadie each day, but I know I’m not exactly contributing much. I don’t even really need to be here, even if the insurance is still paying my salary. I come more because I wanna hang out with Sadie. That and I miss the action and excitement of a live movie set.
But my presence here has always been kinda redundant and while I haven’t felt like I shouldn’t be here, I hate the idea of not being able to help.
This will give me purpose, a reason for being here that will also help get Sadie’s movie made.
Later, Andrew and I are sitting in his trailer, going over his notes and plans when his phone rings. Glancing at the screen, he holds it up as he says, “Sorry, it’s Jen. I gotta take this.”
“Do what you have to do,” I tell him with a wave. “And say hi to her from me.”
Andrew nods as he answers his cell on his way out of the trailer.
I turn back to his notes and plans, realizing again just how much more complicated this all is to what I initially thought it would be. Which is not to say that I don’t think I can do it, it’s just a hell of a lot more than me standing on a mark and running through a sequence of moves I’ve been trained to do when the director yells, “Action!”
And more than that, with this being Sadie’s movie, it makes me even more nervous. I really don’t want to fuck this up for her. I know she has a lot riding on this, not just because it’s her first time directing solo.
It’s her first time away from Noel, too. Her first time making a name for herself and not one that’s associated with him.
Which makes it even more important, in so many ways.
“Hey you,” comes her voice as she slips her arms over my shoulders from behind.
I turn, see her smiling face and can’t resist pressing a kiss to her lips. “Hi.”
“I see you took the job?” she adds, gesturing to the notes on the table in front of me.
“I did,” I say, nodding. “You sure you’re okay with it?”