by India Lee
Closing her eyes as the train hummed along the tracks, Amanda felt as if she were meditating. Harper had it right all along, she thought with a little laugh to herself.
Feeling oddly rejuvenated, Amanda let out a long, steady breath as she climbed up the steps and out of the subway station, the wind nipping at her cheeks and the crisp air waking her up more than she already was.
But the second she reached the sidewalk, she felt her bag buzz with what felt like a thousand text messages that had been sent while she was underground and without service. Fishing it out of her purse, Amanda felt herself stop in place upon looking at the screen.
Missed calls, voicemails and text messages — all from Liam. Unsure of what to click first, Amanda’s thumb jabbed at her text message inbox, her eyes scanning the most recent message despite having no context.
My plane just landed I don’t know whose number is sending me these messages but I’m not risking it Amanda I’m sorry I’m coming
She shook her head, utterly confused. What? What number? Amanda looked closer at the message, which was time-stamped from almost twenty-five minutes ago.
Immediately looking up, Amanda’s frantic eyes now scanned the square in front of the Waltman Global building, scanning the constantly moving stream of suited men and women as they entered and exited the tower. Liam didn’t appear among them. She paced forward till she was in the middle of the square, able to do a three-sixty turn to better observe the busy Monday morning rush around her. Still no Liam. What the hell is he talking about?
To her relief, her phone suddenly rang. She picked up before it could even reach a second ring. “Liam, what’s going — ”
“Not Liam, doll.” Casey’s singsong already lilted with a laugh.
Amanda froze, her eyes suddenly unblinking as she kept her phone pressed to her ear. Standing still, her gaze shifted about the busy square, now looking for a head of pixie-like blonde hair. “Where are you, Casey?” Amanda demanded between her teeth, her eyes wild as her body began turning again, whipping every which way in hopes of spotting her.
“Wanted to congratulate you semi-in person, doll, for the finale and the promotion,” Casey’s voice drawled. “Super glad my personal life was of some sort of gain to you,” she added with a bit of a giggle. Amanda frowned with immediate confusion, her gaze drifting as she stood still in the square. Casey didn’t sound fazed let alone hurt by last night’s episode of Leadoff. She had been expecting much more of a reaction considering the type of traumatic personal details in the script. What the hell is going on here? “What’s going on, Casey? What do you want?”
“Well. I did promise you that I’d hit you where it hurt if you decided to fuck with me, which obviously, you decided to – because honestly, where else does a talentless girl get such interesting character development for her little finale episode besides say, my brother? Even when I told you explicitly to stay the hell away from him?”
Amanda swallowed, silent. “You can’t hit me where it hurts anymore,” she said. “I’ve got nothing for you.”
A giggle came from the other end of the phone. “Oh God. I wasn’t born yesterday, doll. I know you broke up with your poor boy, I know you haven’t seen him in weeks.” The smile in her voice was audible. “But I also know that he’s still where I hit to hurt you most. I’m not stupid, Amanda. Even if you were dating one of those ugly little boys from Vogel’s writing staff — which you’re not — I’d still know very well who to hurt to get to you. Honestly kind of disappointed you thought I was so easy to trick.”
“Liam and I are no longer in each other’s lives,” Amanda said between ground teeth, her head dodging about, trying to see through the wall of people as they swished past her. Still no sight of Casey. “Do what you want with him. I don’t care,” she lied. “Not after what he did to me,” she added, hoping to sound all the more convincing.
“Well, thanks for the permission but I already went ahead and let your boy know that you might need an eye kept on you this morning. You know how the super fans get. They hear some exciting news about their favorite celebrity and they just need to be a part of it. They’re so creepy and obsessed,” Casey giggled. “But it’s nice that you have nothing to worry about as far as, you know, any of the crazier fans. ‘Cause at least your boy is here to protect you in case anything gets — I don’t know — out of control today.”
Shit. Her head whipping around, Amanda tried again to locate Liam.
“On your right. His Mercedes is double parked on the northwest corner in front of the bank.” Casey’s smirk was audible. “Your boy’s on watch, doll.”
Damn it. Turning slowly, Amanda spotted Liam’s Mercedes, indeed double parked on the northwest corner. God, go home, Liam, Amanda tried to silently will him.
“Anyway, cutie. Gotta go.”
“Casey! Tell me what the hell it is that you’re planning to — ”
She hung up. Shit. Tearing her phone from her ear, Amanda started toward the front doors of Waltman Global, certain she could no longer serve as bait to Liam if she was inside and out of his sight. As her feet paced forward, her nervous fingers tapped about to dial Liam’s number. But before she could, she heard a gravelly voice shout her name.
“Amanda! Give me a smile over here!”
Turning, Amanda spotted the green-capped paparazzo, wearing a backpack and actually holding a camera, standing a few yards behind. Lifting it, he snapped a few pictures of Amanda’s frozen expression though she soon gathered herself, doing her best to pretend he was yet another paparazzo so Liam wouldn’t be startled into leaving his post in the car. She eyed the corner in which his Mercedes illegally parked, continuing her way toward the front doors of the tower.
“God, you look good today, sweetheart! Turn around — let me get another smile!” When she didn’t, he gave a hoarse little laugh. “That’s fine, I’ll just get a picture of you walkin’ away from me, that works too. Especially when you’ve got your feet in those heels, sweetheart. Mm mm.”
God, not the weird shoe talk again, Amanda groaned inwardly, her pounding heart at least taking relief in her proximity to the front doors.
“Wait, gorgeous, you dropped something,” the paparazzo’s leering voice called from behind. “Come here, Amanda, sweetheart, you dropped something!”
She ignored him, walking faster when she heard his feet speeding up behind her. But in no time, he reached her, letting her know by tickling her palm with his overgrown fingernails.
“I said you dropped something,” he repeated, tapping Amanda’s shoulder with something that felt too sharp and heavy to be a finger. Spinning around, Amanda stared at the paparazzo, whose smile was full of satisfaction as he handed over a nude stiletto — the other half of the heels she had worn on the night of Leadoff’s premiere at Metropolis. The shoe that she had lost while scrambling out of the elevator and away from the odd man with no floor to go to.
You, Amanda froze once again, not as stunned as she was furious. But she couldn’t react because she needed to convey that she was fine, so fine that Liam would stay in his car.
Seeming to know her plan, the paparazzo held her shoe out. “Take it back, sweetheart, it’s yours,” he said, his voice dripping with fake sweetness as he grabbed her hand to open her palm for the shoe. But his gesture was deliberately rough and his eyes flew to the northwest corner of the block as he yanked Amanda forward before slapping her shoe into her open palm.
Within seconds, Amanda heard a wave of low murmurs. Shit, no, no, no. She didn’t have to turn around to know what was happening. Go back to the car, she begged as she watched the paparazzo lift his camera and happily snap his pictures over her shoulder — at Liam.
Amanda saw his hand before she saw the rest of him. It wrapped around the front of the paparazzo’s camera lens and brought it down, his free hand gently pushing Amanda back as he approached and towered over the strange man.
“Put it away,” he demanded as the stream of Waltman Global employees finally beg
an slowing, their eyes wide as they watched the scene.
“Liam, go away!” Amanda pleaded quietly though it was already too late. There were a hundred people outside of the building and it was safe to say that at least half were aware of the drama unfolding in the center of the square. It was over for Liam’s contract with Terrence. All she could hope for at this point was to keep Liam somehow calm despite knowing how long he had been bottling his fury over her stalker. Shit, shit, shit.
“I was just returning something that belonged to her,” the paparazzo answered with a satisfied smile for himself.
“I could put you on your fucking back for that night alone you little shit,” Liam growled, his voice mismatched with his composed expression.
“Then do it!” the paparazzo insisted enthusiastically.
“Liam.” Amanda grabbed his arm, successfully dragging him away by a couple of inches. “I don’t know what Casey told you but I’m not in trouble here. I can handle this idiot — he’s only here to provoke a reaction from you and so far, you’re giving him everything he wants,” she said under her breath, between her teeth. His broad frame tense over her, Amanda dared to touch Liam’s chest for a second, but only a second. “Please go,” she pleaded quietly, relieved by the hint of softening she saw in his eye. “Wendy’s good, she can still come up with an explanation for this but she won’t be able to explain if you stay a second longer. Just go.” She swallowed, biting the corner of her lip. “We’ll talk later,” she offered as incentive.
To her surprise, Liam accepted the terms. “Just get in the building now. Have Tom walk you out later and stay with Ian or Harper tonight.”
Amanda nodded. “I will. I’m going now. You just go too.”
The paparazzo immediately protested as they began walking their separate ways. “Aw, come on, big guy! What can I say to make you stay?” he asked obnoxiously. “Pretty sure you owe me a little more than that considering I watch over your girlfriend for you every night!”
Stopping in her tracks, Amanda turned to see Liam stop. No, no, keep walking, please just keep walking. To her relief, he listened. But that only inspired the paparazzo to continue.
“Watched her every night while you were in Jordan,” he said. Amanda paused. Is that true?
Liam turned back around.
Shit. “Liam,” Amanda warned, turning back herself, her heart immediately slamming in her ribcage when she watched Liam grab the paparazzo by the collar of his shirt. “Stop!”
“I’ve got a hundred people staring at me right now and nothing left to lose. Tell me more about how you watched my girlfriend,” Liam said, his lip curled. Delighted, the paparazzo whipped off his green cap so he could better sneer at Liam.
“I got paid to keep track of her every move since March, buddy, so technically, I’ve been with her a lot more than you have this year,” the man chuckled, even as Liam’s grip on his ratty sweater got tighter. Frozen, Amanda stared, disgust scraping at the inside of her stomach. Since March? Somehow, she had fancied herself savvy and observant for spotting her little stalkerazzi in June. But apparently, Casey had had someone watching her since she’d been hired to Leadoff. Clutching her stomach, Amanda recalled every last day she’d spent in her Alphabet City studio, especially the ones on which she’d acted freer, opened more blinds and windows because there was seemingly no paparazzi outside. Thanks to Casey, there had never actually been even a second of privacy.
All this to promote a TV show.
“Oh, and since you say you’ve got nothing to lose, let me give you some real good material here,” the man said, his face red but his expression calm, almost blithe as he eyed Liam’s curling fist. “Your T-shirts, you lucky dog. The kind of thin ones made out of… cotton I think? Well, that’s what she wears to bed every night. And depending on the weather — leggings or little boy shorts on the bottom,” he grinned, his grin lasting only a second longer on his lips before Amanda watched it instinctively fall as Liam’s fist barreled like a flying rock into his mouth. Once, twice, then a third time in the jaw before he let the paparazzo fall to the floor of the busy square.
Chapter 24
CHARGES PRESSED AGAINST LIAM BRODY FOR ASSAULT, AMANDA NATHAN CALLS IT QUITS AT ZINC
The Pop Source
October 16th
A Soldier actor Liam Brody will face charges after getting involved in an altercation on Monday that left a paparazzo on the floor and bleeding in front of the Waltman Global building. According to witnesses, Brody showed up to intervene when the paparazzo got too close to TV writer Amanda Nathan, with whom Brody shared a relationship earlier in the year (the authenticity of the relationship has since been argued).
Witnesses report that the scene was “bizarre,” citing the presence of Nathan’s alleged friend, Casey Mulreed, right before the attack took place while other reports allege that the entire altercation was sparked by an argument about a shoe.
The assaulted paparazzo was later taken to the hospital where he was treated with stitches for a laceration about the eye. According to sources, he will be pressing charges against Brody, whose flight from his London premiere of A Soldier had landed just twenty minutes prior to the fight. As if the story couldn’t get stranger, Nathan, who had been on her way to Waltman Global to accept a promotion, wound up reporting to the offices of ZINC — but to leave her job with Leadoff as well as turn down the opportunity to develop her own one-hour drama with the network.
Thanks to the incident, Brody has reportedly lost his starring role in Terrence Rambis’s upcoming blockbuster The Legends as Rambis announced on his Twitter page this morning that he has begun recasting Brody’s role.
While Brody was spotted near his SoHo apartment this morning, Nathan’s whereabouts since the altercation are unknown. No involved parties have agreed to comment on the matter.
Since taking Harper’s plane in, she had yet to be spotted — partially thanks to the private flight and car ride into Merit at a little past midnight. Another part because she was laying out on her bed before her computer, on various gossip news websites to make sure her whereabouts were still a mystery to basically everyone but her parents, Ian and Harper.
I could possibly get used to this again, Amanda told herself as she clicked blankly around on her laptop, leaning against her headboard with her laptop resting on a makeshift desk constructed of gathered blankets. Curled beside her was Princess, her cat who had only gotten fatter in the near year that she’d been gone.
Less than a year. That was how long ago it was that this had been her daily life — wearing flannel pajamas at four in the afternoon rather than leather collar blazers by Thierry Marc, formatting celebrity gossip posts on HDU instead of writing full episodes of television for premium cable networks. Being alone in her room from morning till night instead of brunch and event-hopping with Ian, Harper or Wendy.
And of course, devoting hours to spreading hateful rumors about Liam Brody rather than being the other half of those rumors with him.
It truly felt like ages ago considering Amanda could hardly remember anymore the times when she and Liam were allowed to walk around hand-in-hand without repercussions to worry about. Maybe that’s for the better. Forget you ever met him and start from the beginning again in Merit. It sounded insane but the thought made sense in her head considering what had happened three days ago in front of the Waltman Global building. It had taken her that much time to get past her shock from the incident — the shock of realizing she had never been alone in New York thanks to Casey’s hired stalker. And the shock of seeing that hired stalker’s blood pooling in front of Waltman Global, thanks to Liam and the fist that he wound up having stitched after his trip to the police station.
Like so many moments since the start of her year, it had felt like a movie. But unlike the rest of those moments, it reminded Amanda of all the things she hated about “the industry.”
The industry that she had decided to leave. After all that had happened, she was fairly certain she preferre
d to be in the darkness of her bedroom in Merit, Missouri than in New York, around the sheer madness of whatever elements Casey Mulreed called upon in her life.
Besides, she needed to be far away from Liam. Being apart wasn’t enough, apparently. As long as she was in New York and as long as Casey Mulreed still had leverage and some sort of career to support, he wouldn’t be safe let alone peaceful.
So Amanda had to just get used to it — to the idea of living in Merit again. Without a job or any mental capacity to apply for something new anytime soon, it was the safest place for her to go. Besides, as much as she hated her memories of Merit, she had always found true comfort in the combination of her bed and her laptop.
And, of course, Ian. Through her new email address, she emailed him, too exhausted to speak on the phone. Even her parents had yet to hear the full story of what happened — all she had offered them was an explanation of how she had gotten to their door, which went something like, “Private plane and a car. Ian’s girlfriend has a lot of money.”
Ian (Ian Marsh)
I’ve been talking to Quinn still. We’ve been trying to figure out how to prove this whole thing. I feel like it would help if she spoke to Jake but she won’t talk to him until she knows we have something to take Casey down with. She doesn’t want to risk him mentioning anything to Casey and Casey lifting a finger to get her kicked out of her film program at school or something. I don’t even know dude.