Media Darling

by Fiona Riley

  “The word titty is in entity,” Tremont said.

  “Is not. Not enough t’s,” she corrected.

  “You’d know better than I would since you’ve been groping Hayley’s.”

  “Again. That sounds creepy. I didn’t grope them. I’ll accept fondled or massaged. But not groped. Unless she says it. Then I am all for groping.”

  Tremont just stared at her.

  “What? Did you expect me to deny it?”

  “Kinda. A little. This feels too easy.” He gave her a suspicious look. “Are you just trying to throw me off the topic by lying and being really blunt to make it seem like you did fondle her breasts when in fact you didn’t?”

  This conversation was making Emerson dizzy. “No?”

  “I’m confused.” Tremont pouted.

  “Me, too.” Emerson took back her water and sipped it through the metal straw.

  “Did you sleep with Hayley?”

  Emerson considered this before answering. “There was sleeping. Yes.”

  “Emerson. You’re driving me crazy.” Tremont threw his hands up. “Did you two have sex, yes or no?”

  “With each other? Or just in general? Because that’s a little vague.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he cried.

  “Lower your voice. You’re making a scene.” She shushed him.

  “We’re in your massive backyard. Alone. Just you, me, and this uncomfortably tepid water.” He snatched her glass away and sipped the contents with a grimace. “It’s warm. Gross.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, we slept together. And had sex. Together. With each other.”

  He stared at her again.

  “You need to stop staring at me, it’s—”

  “Creepy. I know.” He sighed. “When did you two first start hooking up?”

  “It sounds so cheap when you say it like that.” Emerson looked out at the pool and missed the lake. “Boston. It happened sort of by accident.”

  “And how does that happen exactly? By accident, I mean?” Tremont didn’t look convinced.

  She shrugged.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have left you two alone.” He shook his head.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Tremont looked at her like she had ten heads. “You’re joking, right?”

  Emerson shook her head.

  “You two have been making moon eyes at each other for, like, a month. I figured it was only a matter of time. I just thought you’d be smart enough to keep it in your pants until after the article was released. You know, to cut down on some of the scandalousness of all this.”

  Emerson was offended. “Well it wasn’t exactly planned, Tremont.”

  “Mm-hmm. First time you’re alone without a chaperone and you get all handsy with your reporter girlfriend. Not planned at all. Yup.”

  “It wasn’t.” She frowned. “I just…we were talking and then she was so sweet and incredible and then there was kissing. So much kissing.”

  Tremont softened. “What were you talking about?”

  “Rachel.”

  His expression soured. “And that got you all hot and bothered? You two need therapy.”

  Emerson laughed. “No. She offered to publish the piece without including anything about Rachel. It was sweet.”

  “And dumb.”

  “Tremont.”

  “Okay. Or sweet. We’ll go with sweet.” He rolled his eyes. “And you told her about Rory?”

  “I did.” Emerson regretted nothing.

  “So, what now?”

  “We publish the article with the whole story.” Emerson shrugged. “And then we wait.”

  “Wait for what?”

  “The other shoe to drop.” Emerson sat up and moved to the edge of the chaise, perching on the end.

  “It already has.” Tremont frowned and pulled an envelope from his murse. “These showed up at my condo this morning. No note. Just these.”

  Emerson took the envelope and pulled out the three eight-and-a-half-by-eleven photographs. They were of her and Hayley kissing in the trailer. And they were scandalous. “Fuck.”

  * * *

  Hayley looked at her watch and exhaled. Rachel was late. Like, super late. If she was even coming at all. It hadn’t been easy to find a time when they could meet, and finding a semiprivate location was near impossible. Hayley had been under paparazzi surveillance since her arrival home, and someone was always nearby snapping a photo. Didn’t they know she was a nobody?

  She sighed and checked her reflection in the mirror. She smiled as a card tumbled out from the visor. When she’d gotten home from Boston, she’d found a box of designer business cards at her doorstep. They read Hayley Carpenter, Screenwriter. Emerson had really ordered them after all. She had slipped them into her messenger bag and put one in her car to remind her of her long-term goal and of Emerson. Not that she needed the reminder about Emerson. She thought about her constantly, it seemed.

  But even though they were in the same city, she hadn’t seen Emerson in person since they’d landed. Although they talked daily—and often—it wasn’t the same. Emerson had been all over the place doing press for the movie release. The reshoot editing process had been fast-tracked and Willow Path was scheduled to be screened for critics in mere weeks. Her drop-dead deadline for the final draft of the article was looming, and everything she’d been hemming and hawing over since Rachel’s message needed to be smoothed out and put into action. Which was proving to be an impossible task.

  Hayley was about to give up when a flashy red convertible pulled up. Subtle. Great.

  “Wanna ride?” Rachel’s eyes were hidden by her sunglasses, but her smile was unmistakable. Hayley had seen it in dozens of movies and on scores of magazine covers. It was blindingly perfect.

  “Not really.” Hayley didn’t like the idea of being trapped in a moving vehicle with Rachel. Emerson’s warning about Rachel’s violent temper was fresh in her mind. Plus, the blackmail thing was pretty shady as fuck, too, so she was set against getting too close.

  “Fine. Have it your way.” Rachel pulled over and stepped out. She moved with a gracefulness unlike anything Hayley had ever seen. She appeared to float as she walked. It was otherworldly.

  “I thought we agreed that we would meet under the condition that you wouldn’t make a scene. Or call unnecessary attention to yourself.” Hayley stepped closer to the building and tried to hide herself from sight.

  “Oh, honey. There’s no such thing as me not drawing attention to myself. It’s in my blood.” Rachel was completely serious.

  Hayley gave Rachel her best side-eye. “Okay. I’m outta here. Nice to meet you, Rachel.”

  “Wait. Sorry.” Rachel stepped closer, lowered her voice, and said, “I rented out the café for the hour. We can sit in the back.”

  She followed Rachel into the small coffee shop and found Rachel’s statement to be true. It was the middle of the day and completely empty. Well, except for a tall hulking black guy by the back door.

  “That’s Bernard. He’s with me.” Rachel walked to the back of the café and sat at one of the tables. Bernard brought her a cup of coffee, saucer and little spoon and all. “Coffee?”

  “Uh, no. Thanks.” Hayley surveyed Bernard suspiciously. “You needed security for this?”

  Rachel took off her glasses and sparkling blue eyes shone back at her. She was even more beautiful in person. Hayley was suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Who knows if Emerson poisoned your mind? You might be dangerous. Are you dangerous, Hayley?”

  “No.” She turned the question back on Rachel. “Are you?”

  Rachel laughed. She sipped her coffee and pushed it aside. “That depends on what you mean by dangerous.”

  Hayley waited for her to elaborate.

  “Look. I asked you to meet because I think we could help each other out.”

  “And how’s that?”

  “You’re writing a story. But you’ve only heard one side of
it. Don’t you think it’s worthwhile to hear my version of the events?” Rachel’s tone was polite. And her posture was relaxed and welcoming. Hayley, on the other hand, felt everything but. A voice in her head was screaming that this was a bad idea.

  “Okay. I’m all ears.” Hayley decided to commit to it. She had already made the decision to be here. Now she might as well be here.

  “Well, first of all. I’m not a bad person.” Rachel reached forward and took her hand. She gave Hayley an exaggerated pout. “I’m misunderstood.”

  Hayley doubted that greatly, but the familiarity of the phrase wasn’t lost on her. She patted Rachel’s hand and pulled hers away, preferring as little contact with this woman as possible. “Okay.”

  “You know Emerson. She’s…she’s just so enigmatic and beautiful. She sucks you in. When you’re with her, it’s like the whole world is all butterflies and rainbows. She’s magical.”

  Hayley was careful to maintain a blank expression. She was in full agreement with Rachel’s statement, but this felt like a trap. “She’s quite something.”

  “Right? Anyway. Truth is, I developed a little crush on her and things got a little hot and heavy for a bit, and then they fell apart.” Rachel shrugged and reached for her coffee. “But that’s where the narrative gets tricky.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Rachel smiled at her and she felt dirty. “Emerson has a habit of keeping secrets. She’s a liar. Our relationship ended because I caught her lying. Then she turned the director and screenwriter against me. Then the studio. She seduced me and then tossed me out on my ass. And that’s not acceptable. You shouldn’t toy with someone’s emotions like that. Or screw with someone’s career.”

  “Yeah, see…that’s not the story I heard.” Hayley didn’t like the way this conversation was playing out. She assumed that Rachel’s statement about Emerson’s lies had something to do with Rory’s existence in the world. But she knew better than to show her hand and let on that she was privy to that information. She decided to lead with what she had planned to all along, Rachel’s obsession with fame. “I heard you got a little too big for your britches and ran into some interference from the studio and that you self-combusted.”

  Rachel’s smile was gone in a flash. “Drake was right about you. You’re a sneaky bitch. You and Emerson are made for each other.”

  She stood, and Bernard stepped forward. “Listen, clearly I’m not going to change your mind, but you should know that the Emerson you’ve been chasing around with your little tape recorder is a fake. And you’re going to be made a fool of by her like I was. Unless of course you scrap the story and write mine instead.”

  “You’re joking.” What the hell was happening?

  “I’m not.”

  “And what exactly would I even write about you?”

  “The truth.” Rachel crossed her arms and looked like a petulant child. “What Emerson did was unforgivable. Why anyone is listening to her story over mine is beyond me. I worked my ass off for my success, and I’m not going to let some tramp drag me through the mud on her quest for fame.”

  Hayley wasn’t sure if she was talking about Emerson or herself. But either way she wasn’t having any of it. “You’re the only one I see dragging anyone here.”

  Rachel’s nostrils flared. “You’ll go down with the ship then, too. It’s a pity. I’ve read some of your work. It’s quite good. Rumor has it you want to write a movie someday. Too bad you aligned yourself with the wrong side on this one. I’d hate for that to be the end to your little pipe dream.”

  Rachel headed toward the door but paused. “Have you met the family yet, Hayley?”

  “What? No.” She hadn’t meant to answer truthfully.

  Rachel’s smirk was menacing. “I guess I’ll give Drake my scoop instead. Let Emerson know she’ll be headline news soon enough. And tell her she has you to thank for it.”

  Rachel and Bernard exited the café, and Hayley was left in eerie silence. Well, except for the fact that her brain was screaming profanities at her. What was she thinking when she set up this meeting? What good did she think would come of it?

  There would be no more extensions on her deadline. And suddenly she was no better off than she was when she’d first started. Scratch that. She was legions behind where she first started because now Rachel had threatened Hayley’s future in Hollywood and was putting a ticking clock on Emerson all because she’d poked the bear. She never should have met with her. Ever.

  “What did I do?” Hayley dropped her head to the table and wished she could disappear.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “Emerson! Over here!” Voices called from every direction. It was disorienting.

  She ducked into the waiting car and gave the driver the directions to Hayley’s apartment. She’d never been there, but she was hoping Hayley wouldn’t mind the unexpected company. She hadn’t seen her in almost two weeks.

  After the envelope arrived, a note followed telling her to stay away from Hayley or the pictures would be leaked. She was still keeping her distance from Deidre and Rory so as not to draw attention to them until Hayley’s piece came out, and now someone was threatening to leak photos of her and Hayley making out. And so far, the pictures didn’t include the activities by the kitchenette, which was good. But still, these photos were damning on the brink of Hayley’s publication. Privacy and all. Those fuckers.

  So she had been lying low. They’d talked every day, but she had been so busy with movie press and interviews that they’d only had time for nightly phone calls or stolen FaceTime sessions. It wasn’t the same. She missed her.

  Her anxious excitement turned to dread when they pulled up to Hayley’s building. It was crawling with paps. Crawling. Literally, she could see one of them in the trees. Her stomach turned as she surveyed the seriousness of the situation. Hayley had mentioned there were some people following her and taking photos, but she had majorly downplayed the situation. This paired with the threatening note and photographs made Emerson panic. What had she gotten Hayley into?

  After taking a minute to talk herself off the ledge, she video called Hayley.

  “Hey. This is an unexpected surprise.” Hayley smiled broadly at her and her heart skipped a beat. “As were the incredibly obnoxious and beautiful flowers you sent me this morning. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you like them.” Emerson had sent her flowers every other day since Boston. She might have physically kept her distance, but she had no intention of emotionally separating from Hayley as well. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she could. She certainly didn’t want to. Although the paparazzi swarming around her car gave her pause. She sank lower in the seat and ducked her head.

  “I do.” Hayley rested her hand on her chin and gave her a lazy smile. “I like you, too.”

  “This call is good for my ego.” Emerson looked forward to talking with Hayley. Always. Even if chaos circled around them, Hayley was her happy place. “Are you home? Please say yes.”

  “I am.” Hayley looked amused. “Yes.”

  “How do you feel about blondes?”

  Hayley gave her a curious look. “In general?”

  Emerson pulled a wig out of her bag and put it on.

  “Oh, on you. Well, I like everything on you. And off you. If that was your next question.”

  Emerson laughed. “And how do you feel about unexpected guests?”

  Hayley paused. Her face lit up. “Tell me you’re here and this is like that moment in Pretty Woman when Richard Gere shows up at Julia Roberts’s fire escape.”

  “It is. Except I’m going to be incognito and I’m going to need you to let me in to the front door of your building. Or better yet, send someone else. Because it’s like a red-carpet premiere out here.”

  Hayley squealed and clapped. “I know the perfect unassuming old lady for the job. I’ll be right down. Or, rather, she will.”

  “Great.” Emerson was giddy. She tried to ignore the panicky sensation all the photog
raphers outside Hayley’s building gave her.

  True to Hayley’s word, a cute hunched-over older woman opened the door to her building and looked around. The paparazzi’s cameras flashed but once they realized it wasn’t someone of interest, they abandoned their posts. Emerson ducked out of the rear passenger door of the car and knocked the glass. Her driver took off and blared his horn, distracting the lingering paps enough for her to run into the open door.

  Hayley was waiting inside, hidden behind a large shrub in the lobby.

  “Hayley.” Emerson felt like the weight of the world was off her shoulders. She went to her with the full intention to kiss her silly but stopped at the last second when she realized they had an audience. “Oh, hello. Thank you for your help.”

  “This is Greta, she lives next door,” Hayley supplied.

  The old woman smiled. “Sure. I’m all for young love.” She gave Hayley a stern look and pointed at her. “Don’t forget our agreement. Keep it down and no more singing off-key to that Swords woman. It’s annoying.”

  “Spears. And I’m never off-key,” Hayley replied.

  Greta took out one of her hearing aids and fiddled with it. “You’re always off-key. I shut off this little guy every morning because your bathroom is next to my bedroom. It’s a good thing I’m deaf in the other ear.”

  “Oh, like that ear is any better,” Hayley mumbled.

  “What?” Greta barked.

  Emerson intervened. “She’ll be on her best behavior. We’ll get her singing lessons, or better yet, she’ll take a vow of Britney Spears shower silence.”

  “Hey.” Hayley frowned.

  “It’s only fair.” Emerson nudged her with her elbow. “Greta did save the day.”

  Hayley pouted. “Fine.”

  Greta put her hearing aid back in and smiled. “I like you—you’re nice. You look familiar. Have we met before?”

  “Bye, Greta.” Hayley tugged Emerson around the corner and up the stairs to her apartment.

  Once they arrived, Hayley pulled her into her apartment and kissed her against the closed door. Emerson had waited for this moment for what seemed like forever. “Hi.”