by Jillian Dodd
Me: He orders room service.
Harper: What about the sex? Is it hot? Like, throw-you-against-the-wall-and-do-you-in-the-dressing-room-before-his-concert-because-he-can't-wait-until-it's-over hot?
Me: Um. Not exactly. But just because you are marrying a sexy-as-hell football player who can't keep his hands off you . . .
Harper: If Zach hasn't done you up against a wall sometime--somewhere--you shouldn't want to marry him. Ever.
Me: Maybe you should stop modeling and start writing relationship advice.
Harper: I probably should. I mean, think about it. You have money. You have fame. You need an amazing guy who takes care of you. Someone you have amazing sparks with. And someone who is so into you, he wouldn't care about posting photos of what you're doing for his fans to see. When you find a guy like that, you should marry him. And do you really want to end up living in Zach's parents' compound in Wyoming, or wherever it is that they're from?
Me: I guess I hadn't thought that far ahead.
Harper: Don't agree to marry anyone until you have. P.S. Hot sex = Passion. You need passion not a fucking carnival.
Later that evening, I'm coming out of the bedroom dressed to kill when I see Zach snorting something off his finger. "What are you doing? Is that cocaine!?"
He wipes his nose. "I'm in Vegas without my family. Tonight we're going fucking nuts."
"I'm all for going nuts, but you shouldn't be doing that."
"I've only done it a few times, Ash. It's not that big of a deal."
"It is to me," I say quietly. But Zach doesn't know that, because I've never told him about my mom or about my childhood. Maybe Harper is right. Maybe he's not the right guy for me. If I loved him, wouldn't I be able to tell him everything? "All it takes is a few times to get addicted, Zach."
He wraps his arms around me and kisses me passionately. Which is a surprise. So far, sex with him has been a lot like the pop songs he sings with his brothers--fluffy, but without much substance. But love and sex are different. And I know Zach loves me. I know he's a good guy. That's more important than hot sex.
Right?
But with the way he's kissing me, I'm thinking this weekend might be different. Maybe it's because his family isn't around. He has no work obligations. Hell, we may not even leave. We'll just order room service and spend the weekend in bed.
"We've got to get going," he says, ending the kiss.
Or, not.
I start to ask why, but don't want to ruin whatever he has planned, because he plans the most amazing dates ever--all of which he blasts on his social media. His fans think I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
And I do too.
Most of the time.
He leads me out of the suite, down the elevator, and to a private dining room in the hotel. It's candlelit, romantic, and overlooks a tiled waterfall.
"This is beautiful," I say, as he pulls out my chair.
He gives me a sweet smile and looks at his watch. "We'll have a romantic dinner first then make our appearance at the club."
"What appearance?" I ask, shocked. He told me this weekend was all about us.
"The one I'm getting paid to do."
"You didn't tell me this was for work."
"It's just a few hours. The truth is, I'm thinking about doing a solo album, breaking away from my family. If I'm going to do that successfully, I need a sexier image. People need to realize I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm older. Mature. Having a wild night in Vegas will help with that--or so my publicist says. Oh, and sometime at the club, will you rip my shirt off? I know people will take pictures. I've been doing a ton of core work, so I'll have the kind of abs women will scream over."
I purse my lips. Although the cocaine was a turn off, the idea of him going solo and being away from his family turns me back on.
He grins at me. "Come on, Ash, you like having fun. You need a bump?"
"I don't do drugs," I say calmly as the idea of my dream wedding falls apart in front of my eyes. Maybe Harper is right. Maybe tonight is the night I should see if he's even worthy of marrying. If a wild night is what he wants, I'm going to drive him so fucking nuts, he won't be able to keep his hands off me. I'll have him so hot, we'll do it in the VIP section.
But the night doesn't really go as planned.
Even though he's more wild than usual in his drinking and dancing, the night almost feels scripted. He's had quite a few shots, has his shirt off, and at three in the morning as we make our way back to our suite, he's attacking me with kisses and running his hands all over me in the elevator. In the hallway to the penthouse, in front of the hotel butler, he tries to unzip my dress.
And I'm thinking, finally, this is it. Who cares about a proposal? I'm going to get hot up-against-the-wall sex. A proposal will follow soon enough.
But as soon as the door of our suite shuts, he slurs, "Thanks for posting so many photos from the club. This is going to be great publicity for me. Whew, what a night. I'm tired."
Or, maybe not.
Harper might be right about him, I think, as I'm straightening my dress.
Zach stops in his tracks and says, "What are you guys doing here?"
I peek around him, surprised to see his manager and one of his publicity people sitting at the dining room table, looking really stressed.
His manager studies him. "Zach, have you been drinking?"
"Fuck yeah. It's Vegas."
"Get to bed. We'll deal with you in the morning." I follow Zach toward the bedroom, but his manager points to his computer. "Ashlyn, there's something you need to see. Now."
"Uh, okay," I say, taking a seat. "What's up?"
He shakes his head. "It's bad, Ash. A sex tape of you was released tonight."
"A sex tape?! But we've never made--"
"It's not of you and Zach. It's of you and your ex-boyfriend, Luke O'Brien."
"What are you talking about? I've never made a sex tape. I'm not stupid."
"Then he made it without your knowledge. I know you told Zach that he called you out of the blue last week. What did he say?"
"He wanted to have lunch. I said no. That was the end of the conversation."
"You need to see this."
"I'm telling you, I have never made a sex tape with him or anyone else. It must be someone who looks like me."
They both shrug their shoulders. "It's definitely you."
My phone rings on the coffee table where I had left it.
"That's probably your people. Your phone has been going off since we got here."
"Shit," I say, answering the call from my agent. "Hey, Cade."
He goes on a tirade about the sex tape and what it's going to do to my career. "And I know I've told you this before, but something is going on with your manager and your publicist. I don't trust them. And I don't think you should either. When I called them, they didn't seem surprised by the tape. I think they had something to do with it."
"Cade! They would never do that. We're friends!"
"They like you being in the spotlight, because it puts them in the spotlight. I mean, there have even been rumors of you having an affair with Kenton, who you don't even like. One of them is starting shit. I think both your publicist and manager are milking you and need to be fired. Now."
"I can't just fire them. They've been with me from the beginning."
"Have you seen the tape?"
"No. I just learned about it like two seconds ago from Zach's people."
"Watch it and take a peek at how many times it's been viewed. It's only been live for a few hours and already has over a million views. No way that happened organically. It's being pushed."
"Maybe by Luke?"
"Luke doesn't have that much push. Watch it. I'll wait."
I set my phone down and turn my attention to the computer screen. Zach's publicist hands me a set of headphones, so I put them in and press play.
I'm cringing, covering my face, and crying by the time I'm halfway through. It's definitely a vi
deo of Luke and me. We're doing things that are supposed to be private between two people. This is so personal. So violating.
Once I get over the shock of it, I start looking for clues as to when and where this was recorded. I'm wearing the pink lingerie I bought after Luke and I had gotten in a fight a week before he broke up with me. He had come home late. Way late. Gave me some excuse about a friend needing him, but the way he smelled was off. I was certain he had cheated on me.
When I confronted him about it, he swore it wasn't true.
Later, when my publicist, Brandi, confirmed that she had seen him out with a friend that night, I felt bad for not trusting him. Brandi told me I should go buy something sexy, show up at his apartment unannounced, and apologize.
I hadn't been to his apartment since we first dated and, honestly, I didn't even think he still had it. He had moved in with me months before.
And although I believed Brandi, something still seemed off about the whole thing. I just couldn't put my finger on it. When Brandi called and asked if we'd made up, I told her no.
She came over, we drank wine, discussed the situation in more detail, and then she put me in a car and gave them Luke's address.
He was there. I said I was sorry. We made up.
Fast forward a week. Luke and I are at my place in bed when he kisses me on the forehead, says that he's hungry, and is going to get sushi.
Thirty minutes later, he texted me and said he wasn't coming back. Ever.
I remember how Brandi offered to be there while he moved his stuff out, so that I wouldn't have to face him.
I'd asked her as a favor to take him on as a client. To help him go mainstream.
And as soon as he did--Oh my god.
Did she plan this?
Did they plan this?
And that's when I realize that Cade might be right about something. Something entirely different.
"Cade, do you think Brandi and Luke were having an affair?"
"I don't know what they did when you were together, but they're definitely dating now."
"They are? Why didn't you tell me?"
"What you should be asking yourself is why didn't she tell you. I didn't tell you because I assumed you knew."
"That bitch"--I spew out every single curse word I know in one big stream--"I'm going to fire her this minute!"
"Calm down, Ash. It's not the end of the world."
"Don't tell me to calm down. You aren't all over the Internet giving a blow job to an asshole!"
Cade starts laughing. "Now, that would be a completely different kind of video. Where are you right now? The press is going to be hounding you."
"I'm in Vegas with Zach. Can we get this taken down? Can we sue them? What are my legal rights?"
"Let me handle all of that. Don't go home. I'm sure the press will be camped out. Why don't you come straight to my house. We can go over the legal stuff when you get here. In the meantime, don't talk to anyone. Not your manager. Not your publicist. Not the press. No one."
Fuck.
I scroll through my phone to see if Brandi has called me. One would assume your publicist would call you during a crisis situation such as this.
All I see are calls from people I don't want to talk to. Numbers I don't recognize.
But as I scroll down the list, I see Luke has called me.
I don't care what Cade says, I'm calling that fucker back.
When he answers, I say, "What's that saying, Luke? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? You're about to find out what that feels like. Maybe it will inspire you to write a decent song."
"Ashlyn, I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"You didn't know that you videotaped us having sex in your apartment?"
"No, I didn't. Look, could we meet somewhere? I really need to talk to you."
"Fuck you, Luke."
I slam my phone down on the table.
Zach's manager stares at me expectantly. "So?"
"Do you have any suggestions?"
"Yeah, you should stop seeing Zach before you ruin his career."
"What are you guys doing out here?" Zach asks from the bedroom doorway. He's wearing a hotel robe and chugging a bottle of water. "I'm hungry. Where's the room service menu?"
"What do you want, Zach?" his manager asks. "I'll make it happen."
"Breakfast. Like steak and eggs or something."
The manager nods and gets on the phone, not bothering to ask me if I'm hungry.
Not that I am.
I feel like I could puke.
His publicist rolls his eyes. "Food should be the last thing on your mind right now, Zach. Your girlfriend, here, made a sex tape with her ex and it's all over the Internet."
Zach pulls me into the bedroom and shuts the door. "If you wanted to release a sex tape, Ash, why didn't you do one with me? I never thought of it, but it would have been the perfect thing to do for my next career move."
"Are you crazy? I didn't release it! Luke must have. Anyway, I have to head back to L.A., like now, and deal with this."
"Wait until after we've had some breakfast. Please? I want to come with you. I'll stand by you, I swear. We'll face this together."
And I decide that Harper is wrong. I don't just want hot sex. I want someone who will stand by me no matter what.
I give him a grateful hug.
Zach drops me off at Cade's house in Santa Monica and then takes his manager and family publicist to my house.
Cade and I watch a live online entertainment site, which is reporting that Zach is going to make a statement.
Zach looks out at the throng of reporters and speaks very clearly. "Ashlyn and I ask for your prayers during these trying times. We ask that those responsible for this crime--and it is a crime--take the offending videos down. She's with her attorney preparing to fight this for as long as it takes to bring those responsible to justice."
"I thought we decided we weren't talking to anyone?" Cade chastises.
"I didn't talk to anyone. Well, I did call Luke. He acted like it wasn't his fault, but I don't believe him."
"I think your publicist may have had something to do with it. You need to fire her."
"Cade, I don't have any proof. I'm pissed she's dating Luke, but I don't believe she had anything to do with the tape. She's been my friend for years. She probably didn't tell me she was dating Luke because now that I'm dating Zach, she knew I wouldn't care."
"Don't you think it's all just a little fishy? How could you even trust her if you think she had an affair with Luke while you were dating him?"
I bury my face in my palms. "I don't know. I guess I feel like I need some proof before I can accuse her of something like this."
"She released a statement to the press," he says, holding up a sheet of paper.
"She's not supposed to release anything to the press without my approval. What does it say?"
"It says something similar to what Zach said. That you ask the press to respect your privacy. Your publicist is young and hungry. And I know when you got started in the business that was a good thing for you. I know you became friends. But you've outgrown her and she knows it. I think she's trying to create drama for you to create business for herself. Not to mention the fact that she's fucking your boyfriend."
"Zach too?"
"No, I meant Luke. You need to fire her immediately."
"Although in Vegas my gut reaction was to fire her, I find it hard to believe she would do something like this. We're friends."
"Ashlyn, this is your business. She works for you. She's not your friend."
"Why can't we be both?"
"You just can't. And we have another problem."
"What now?"
"I had your business manager send me her contract. I can't believe you signed it without letting me look it over. I never would have let you sign this."
He throws it on the table.
"I let you read the contract that I signed." I flip through the copy on my desk, barely able to believe my
eyes. "This says that if I fire her for cause, I still have to buy out her contract and give her a lump sum. I swear to you, I didn't sign this."
"Ashlyn, your life has been crazy. This looks like your signature."
I grab my phone, open my email, scroll back a year, and find the contract. "This is the last one I signed. It's a three-year deal. We have not renegotiated. I swear to you."
"Email me that and I'll try to get to the bottom of it. Don't say a word to her. Are you listening? I don't want you to talk to her at all. If she messages you, tell her that you're going through a really trying time and all business goes through me. Okay?"
"Okay, I can do that," I say, agreeing with him. But I really can't believe she would try to trick me. I can't believe that she would have slept with Luke when we were dating. She's been my publicist for the last five years. Even if she's just pretending to be friends with me so I'll work with her, it just doesn't make sense. I'm her biggest client.
While I wrestle with what to believe, Cade goes through a bunch of legal stuff pertaining to getting the videos removed. I have to file a police report, which he says will help our case.
It's all pretty humiliating.
As if the video wasn't humiliating enough.
Once he has all the wheels in motion, he sits me down. "I need to know what you want out of your career. Do you even want a career?"
"Of course I want a career. Acting is what I love to do."
"The sex tape is bad--really bad--and you're drunk in it. At the interviews after the Emmys, you announced that you had been doing shots. You're young and extremely talented. You wouldn't be the first to need rehab. Do you need rehab, Ashlyn? Are things out of control?"
"Cade, I don't need rehab."
"There are also rumors that you've been high on set."
"Only like three times, when I couldn't fucking take that asshole Kenton anymore. He hates me and he's so condescending. Why does he hate me?"
"He told the director you are the most talented cast member and the least likely to stay that way. He says you will burn out and fade away. With the way things are going, I can't say I disagree with him."
"I don't want that."
"Then it's time to take your career more seriously. You need to get your life in order. Let's start with your love life."