As close as they’d become, Demi didn’t know much about Aiden. Her own fault. She didn’t ask. She had the idea that he came as he was, without the encumberance of a past. He must have liked it, too, and didn’t ask about hers either. Assumptions had been made on both their parts.
She ordered another drink. Sophia nailed it when she said, “If it doesn’t work out with Aiden, you can crawl into a bottle.” Sophia’s remark was mean, and prescient. It was a reflex for Demi to reach for a drink to numb the pain. Aiden never got around to giving her a raise for developing the menu. In the end, Carole had changed most of it anyway. Had he flattered her and made her feel important just to get at her “joot”” (his word for it)?
She texted Sophia. “Can you talk?” No reply for ten minutes. She was on set. Since their confessional night, it was like the light behind Sophia’s eyes when she looked at Demi was switched back on. That was a relief for them both. They couldn’t change what happened to Sophia, but they could talk about it now, and had been every night for days. It seemed to help immeasurably.
Demi would have to tell her about Aiden’s wife, girlfriend, whatever, and soon. But right now, she had to talk to someone else. She called Catherine. “I messed up,” she said when her new old friend answered. They’d been checking in about once a week, so Catherine knew all about Aiden. Demi filled her in on the latest development.
“He’s in love with someone else,” she said. “So what?”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Nope.”
“I’m repeating patterns. From one cheater to the next,” said Demi. “I thought things were changing for me, but they’re exactly the same. I’m a fucking idiot.”
“Where are you now? Are you drinking?”
“No.”
“That’s the dangerous pattern,” said Catherine. “You’re reacting the same way, the easy way. Did you think this through, really consider your options, or did you run right to a bar?”
“What’s there to think through?”
Catherine said, “Do you like this man? Does he make you happy? Are you having fun at the restaurant? Can Aiden help you with your career, which, I can assure you, will last longer and be more important in the long run than any man? Aiden has been a huge positive in your life. You chose a winner this time, Demi. He’s good for you. His being a cheater protects you. It’s like protective covering for your heart.”
Demi started to understand what Catherine meant. She’d been trying not to repeat the mistake of folding herself into Aiden’s life, like she’d done with James. When she saw Sheila’s face on the screen, a chemical chain reaction swept through her brain cells and reconfigured them. She’d initially felt betrayed and angry. But Demi had the ability, the hard-won self-awareness, not to fall back on easy emotions, but instead find inner strength. How can any situation work to my advantage? How to turn this negative into a positive?
“Do you get it?” asked Catherine.
“Aiden is safe,” said Demi. “His being married or whatever makes him safe.” There was no way she could fall in love with him now. And no chance of losing herself in an obsessive relationship. If she chose it, she could be free of fear, judgment, and ego. It was all gone. Demi could remove expectation from her reality. She’d just exist in the moment, enjoy it, or not, and float. No judgments, no pressure, no thoughts about a future together. Just fun, food, sex, and success. This could be the ideal situation for her.
“Are you too drunk to go back to work?”
“Maybe.”
“Go anyway,” said Catherine.
Demi left her third drink on the bar, and returned to Dory. She found Carole and Aiden in the kitchen, pulling apart the fritters and discussing ardently whether to put them on the menu or not.
“Taste this,” he said, shoving the fried nugget at her.
Demi tried it, and loved it. “These hotcakes will sell like hotcakes.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
There wasn’t a trace of mirth in his eyes now. No funny business about the business. He had a wife back in Sydney to support, so every decision about Dory was serious. If Aiden didn’t value her opinion and her work, she wouldn’t be here.
“I’m sure,” she said. “But I worry about the oyster stew.”
“Really?” asked Carole. “You never said anything before.”
“I’m saying it now.”
Aiden, Demi, and Carole spent the rest of the afternoon going over the menu item by item, tearing it apart. Maybe her two and a half cocktails freed her to speak her mind. Or maybe it was the revelation, thanks to her secret sage Catherine, that the only person Demi could cheat on was herself. The only way she’d do that was by discounting her worth. Alcohol was tied up in it, but Demi’s most dangerous addiction was self-doubt. Her worst enemy was anxiety. She was going to take those traits off the menu.
23
karma doesn’t forget
The wrap party at the Abbey in West Hollywood might be a farewell party. The first five episodes were done. The first episode might not air for months. Despite the uncertainty, everyone was in a good mood, including Sophia. She knew how to dress this time, in a flirty cocktail dress from Alice + Olivia embellished with colored beads, and super-high Jimmy Choos she had gotten on sale.
Julie Chapman had to yell over the music, and her voice was getting hoarse. She thanked every member of The Den’s crew, from wardrobe to lighting, by name. Sophia hung back in the crowd with Demi (solo; Aiden was working straight until the opening), David, Leandra, and Harris (who was not at all what Sophia expected), and waited for Julie to single her out.
“And now, our incomparable cast! Paula Rosa, where are you? Get over here,” said Julie. “Our grisly veteran.” That made everyone laugh. Paula looked like she was eighteen. “Your leadership and creativity—”
“She’s hot,” said Harris. “Does she do any extracurricular work? I’m casting a big production right now called Back Door Bitc—”
“Not now, Harris!” said Leandra, too loud. “This is Sophia’s night.”
Gracious of Leandra to say. Only a minute ago, she’d asked Sophia, “What’s the name of your show again?” Sophia just had to laugh at Leandra. No matter how selfish, she knew Leandra loved her and would fight for her. She already had, albeit in a misguided way.
Julie yelled, “Cassie Lambert, your turn!” Cassie looked like a goddess tonight in a white drapey dress. “Our local girl. Cassie’s input, especially about the LA private school world, was invaluable—”
Demi whispered in Sophia’s ear, “David told me he’s shocked you invited him.”
“I owe him an apology,” she said. “Might as well do it here, in public, in front of everyone I know. Just to keep it intimate.” Since Sophia pretty much accused him of semi-stalking, David backed off completely. When she did run into him, he waved, but kept his distance. In the last week or so, she wished he’d be less cautious, and talk to her again. If he did, she’d make sure to thank him for being a concerned friend, and to say she was sorry to cut him off at the knees.
Sophia glanced at David. He was drinking a beer from a bottle and talking to Harris. More like Harris was talking David’s ear off about his screenplay idea, and David was patiently listening. Sophia liked how he hooked his thumb into the waist of his jeans. An inch of his tan, taut belly showed. Just then, David looked at her, and smiled. It gave her the melts. Sophia smiled back, and took a step toward him.
“Sophia Marcus!” called out Julie.
“You’re on,” said Demi. “Walk like a star.”
Sophia cut through the crowd to join her boss and costars by the bar. It wasn’t exactly like walking up the aisle at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion to receive an Academy Award, but it was good practice.
It’d been eight weeks since the First Night party. Every home test that could be taken had come up negative, including the ones she had to mail in. She’d gotten her period twice, which, despite taking a dozen pregnancy tests, was a h
uge relief. By now, she’d gotten used to the idea that a complete stranger knew things about her she didn’t. And, more important, would he, could he, reveal what he knew to others? She’d been out of it. He was a guy, therefore, he must have taken dozens of pictures of her doing just about anything. If the show was a hit, he could sell the images to the media. A night she didn’t even remember could destroy her career before it even got off the ground.
“There she is,” said Julie. She positioned Sophia between Paula and Cassie. “Our secret weapon. I’m going to let you all in on a little secret. We weren’t sure about Sophia for The Den. Her audition and test were excellent. She’s obviously gorgeous and talented. For the show’s first iteration, she was a good fit. But when we shifted to a dramatic format, Henry and I had a few doubts. We didn’t know if Sophia had the depth to handle the material. Well, from her first big scene, we knew she was something special. Sophia is the emotional anchor of the entire show. I’m just so proud of her.”
Sophia was flattered, touched—and a bit horrified. They had doubts about her? Julie said, “her first big scene.” Did she mean the “Please stay” scene? It had been a turning point for Sophia as an actor. She’d used her unspeakable experience to tap into the depth of emotion Julie was referring to. After that, Sophia knew how to turn it on whenever she had something powerful to express.
As her colleagues and friends applauded her, Sophia took a super low, jokey bow and flashed a big beautiful smile. No one had any idea what she was really thinking: The maybe-rape might have saved her career. It disgusted her that the worst experience of her life had a silver lining, even though she’d initially tried hard to find one. Sophia would untangle this emotional knot at some point, but not now. Tonight was a celebration. She’d spun misery into gold, by sheer force of will, completely on her own. Yeah, I’m a badass, she thought to herself.
Julie said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, everyone! Henry and I are so excited about The Den. The network loves what they’ve seen. Hold on to your hats, people! We have an airdate! Episode 101 will have its world premiere at nine P.M. next Tuesday!” Gasps from the crowd. “The marketing blitz starts tonight!”
Paula and Cassie started jumping up and down. They squeezed her into a three-headed hug. Sophia wasn’t quite sure why Tuesday at nine P.M. was such a cause for excitement, but she went with it.
After the crowd simmered down, Julie said, “Congratulations to everyone again. Enjoy the party! Enjoy your hiatus. It might be short.”
“She said ‘hiatus,’” said Cassie. “Hiatus implies temporary.”
“What’s she going to say? Enjoy unemployment?” replied Paula.
Sophia asked, “When will we know?”
“If the show gets decent numbers next Tuesday, we could be back at work on Wednesday,” said Paula.
“I don’t want this to end,” said Sophia. It’d been kind of a blur, meeting everyone, shooting, the pressure of bringing it, struggling to hold it together. If/when the show started shooting again, she’d be more relaxed, more open to getting to know Cassie and Paula. Now that she thought about it, they’d all been holding back on a personal, protective level. The Hollywood way? Sophia was learning every day on this job. The only emotion she felt right now was gratitude. “Thanks, you guys,” she said.
“For what?” asked Paula.
“I don’t really know.”
Cassie laughed. “I feel the same way! Thanks for whatever.”
“We’re only just getting started,” said Paula. “More of everything good is to come!”
More of everything good. Sophia loved the sound of that. A moment later, Cassie’s parents appeared, congratulating them all. Paula’s boyfriend swept her up and carried her like Tarzan. Sophia wasn’t alone for long. Demi and Leandra were suddenly there, hugging her, kissing her, making her feel loved. She hugged her old friends as tight as she could, letting happiness flow in.
Demi said, “You’re strangling me.”
“You’re going to be a star,” said Leandra.
“Knock wood,” said Sophia. “Right now. Do it!”
Leandra rapped her head, and said, “Ouch. My ring!” Demi and Sophia snorted and laughed as Leandra untangled her absurdly large cocktail ring from her absurdly big hair. Even if the show tanked, she had this moment. This memory would be crystal clear, and locked for life.
David took his turn hugging Sophia. “Your showrunner just called you her secret weapon,” he said. “If I were you, I’d ask for a raise.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve been such a bitch to you.”
“Enough of that,” he said. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“I do,” she said. “I’ll explain it all one day. But for now, I’m sorry and I miss you.” She leaned half an inch toward him, and he closed the distance in a heartbeat, kissing her decisively but not possessively, strong and gentle. She’d been afraid to kiss him or anyone; afraid she’d been turned off to sex entirely. But David felt familiar, safe and warm, like bread from the oven or her own bed. She sank into the kiss, putting her arms around him, and leaning into his lean body.
Harris said, “Wow! You guys are hot! I need video.”
“Don’t. You. DARE,” said Leandra, spitting fire at him, reminding Sophia why it was great to have Leandra in her corner.
David said, “Much as I appreciate making up, I have to warn you. We’re rivals now. Sex & Murder: LA airs on Tuesdays at nine.”
No wonder everyone was freaking out. The network had a lot of confidence in The Den to put it up against the longest-running drama in TV history. It was the setup for a huge success or a dismal failure.
David must have been reading her mind. “TV is no place for weak tits. And I mean that in so many ways. I wish I didn’t have to go, but I’m meeting some people in the Hills.”
“Will you be home later tonight?”
“Definitely,” he said.
“I’ll see you then.” Sophia kissed him good-bye, just a quickie, the promise of more of everything to come. He touched his lips, and left.
Harris said, “Sophia, I might have an opportunity for you during your hiatus. I run a website called TV T&A. Check it out, tvt&a.com. If you’re into it, we can take some bikini shots, help get you advanced publicity for your show.”
“He’s joking!” said Leandra, fake laughing. “Harris, stop. Seriously. STOP.”
Demi was already typing tvt&a.com into her phone, and said, “Whoa! I’m not sure you want to T up your A for this one, Sophia.” She showed her the screen with images of topless and bottomless actors.
Sophia zeroed in on one photo, of a bearded man in this birthday suit on a beach. “Harris, who is that guy?”
“That’s Jared Greco. He was on a survivalist reality show called Nude and Stupid where they send you into the woods, bare-assed, with a lighter, a piece of string, and a bar of chocolate.”
“Do you know him?” she asked.
“No, but he’s right over there. I can go get him for you if you want to meet him.”
Sophia looked where Harris was pointing. Right there, over at the bar in a group of model boys, stood Sophia’s maybe rapist. Her blood turned to sludge. Brody Reno, the guy she suspected of drugging her, was also with him.
“You know him?” asked Demi.
“Oh, my god, isn’t that the bartender chick from CRUSH in Toronto?” asked Leandra. “I remember her. She looks awful! This is what happens. Girls come to LA to get famous, and wind up aging ten years.”
Renee was in Jared and Brody’s crew. She’d lied to Sophia on the phone about not knowing them. Maybe Renee had drugged her drink, or helped the guy who did. Did she hate Sophia that much? Even if Renee had nothing to do with the roofie, she was still hanging with the guys who did. Sophia watched Renee throw back her head and laugh, then turn to look right at her. Renee smiled at Sophia, put her arm around Brody, and lifted her glass, an air toast. Or was she implying, Want another drugged drink?
“I’m going to be sick,” Sophia whispered to Demi. “Get me out of here.”
Demi didn’t hesitate. “Bathroom break,” she said loudly. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.” But she didn’t take her into a crowded bathroom. Instead, Demi guided Sophia straight out of the bar’s front doors to the street and then around the corner of the building.
Sophia tried to steady her breath. It hit her all over again. Just seeing them, Renee holding up the drink, it triggered the panic, if not any memories.
“Are you okay?” asked Demi.
“No,” she admitted. “Panic attack.”
Demi said, “Okay, let’s do jumping jacks.”
“What?”
“Seriously, I learned this on Orange Is the New Black. Let’s go.”
In the alley by the Dumpsters, the would-be TV star in her fancy sequined dress and six-inch heels, did jumping jacks. Two sets of ten. And it fucking worked! Her heart was beating, she was breathing hard. But it was due to the exercise, not the panic. Her whole body calmed down. She still had the shakes though. But was it from anger or fear?
“He’s in there. Nude and Stupid.”
“So?” asked Demi. And then, her eyes narrowed and sharpened. “Is he the one? Holy shit, he’s right in there. It’s a gift from God. I can murder him now. I have been lifting vats of cooking oil for a month. I can so take that guy.”
“No.”
“I have to.”
“Karma will get him,” said Sophia. It was the only attitude to take. Inflicting violence on him didn’t undo what happened to her. She had no evidence to accuse him with. All she could do was react to how she felt—freaked the fuck out—and decide what action to take.
“Beating on him would be faster.” Thank god Demi wasn’t drunk, or she’d be roaring back in there already.
Sophia shook her head. “That’ll only call more attention to it. Don’t make me regret telling you.” Demi froze. “I don’t meant that. I’m so glad I told you, and I appreciate all the hours of talking about it since then. I needed that time with you to heal. I thought I was fine, but seeing him was like tearing out the stitches.”
Bliss Page 25