by Claire Raye
She nods, her lips still pressed against mine. “It’s just hard to believe sometimes.”
“I do,” I tell her. “Believe it.”
She smiles a little. “You might be a little biased though.”
I chuckle. “Yeah maybe,” I admit, kissing her again. “But I know I’m not the only one. Look at Ian, even he admitted he hates Noel and everything he does.”
“He was one of the ones assaulted by him,” she says, pulling back. “Back when he was just starting out.”
“And yet he still signed on for your movie,” I say.
Sadie nods, but doesn’t say anything.
“You know,” I tell her, letting go of her face as I tuck one hand behind my head and slide the other around her. “You mentioned how Roger was thinking of writing a book?”
“Yeah?”
“Well,” I start, swallowing as I try to get the thought that’s just popped into my head in order. “Why don’t you give him a bigger audience, a different way to tell his story?”
“What do you mean?”
I smile. “You’re a movie director, Sadie, a director and a writer in an industry that is constantly hungry for scandal and gossip, for stories with an edge that shed light on the dirty secrets everyone pretends to ignore. Use that to your advantage and give Roger and these men and women a voice that can’t be ignored.”
“You mean…”
“I mean,” I say smiling at her. “Get their voices on film and show it to the world.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Sadie
Filming is the only thing that keeps my mind from wandering to my conversation with Roger. The article will hit the public next week and I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what Paul said.
What if I told these people’s stories?
What if I made it more than an article?
I could help Roger take things to the next level by making a documentary of the seedy dark side of Hollywood. I know Noel isn’t the only one who uses these tactics and exposing it to the public could bring it to an end. There’s no greater shame than someone calling another person out and putting it out in the open so everyone knows what they’ve done.
The day has moved so quickly, the set running like a well-oiled machine as we wrap up. I review the last shot of the day, stressing about the setting sun because if we didn’t get this shot, we’ll have to push it back, adding it to the last few days of shooting. But as I play back the scene on the small screen in front of me, a few of the crew members gathered round, we all let out a sigh and small shout of victory when we see it was shot perfectly.
I dismiss everyone for the day, but I had asked Ian to stay, and as things start to wind down on set, I ask him to meet me in my trailer.
I had talked with Paul on how to approach this and his advice was to just be as honest as possible. He also suggested starting with Ian since he obviously isn’t holding a grudge against me.
I’m sure Ian is aware I met with Roger, and I’m sure he also knows the article is about to be thrust upon the world.
My life feels like it’s spiraling out of control, but these people who have helped Roger with the article are about to find themselves on the receiving end of some serious publicity. It’s hard to take on someone like Noel, someone who for many years was hailed as a genius and placed on a pedestal in the film industry. People flock to see his movies, and despite his bad reputation, still adore what he does.
It takes guts to speak out against someone with his elite status.
Money buys all.
My heart is racing, slamming hard into my chest when Ian knocks on the door to my trailer. I have no idea why I’m so nervous. He obviously isn’t here to berate me for marrying Noel and being a part of all of this, but there’s still something so uncomfortable about facing someone who actually went head to head with Noel.
It’s easy to act like it didn’t happen because I wasn’t there, but even when I was there, I found it easier to act like it didn’t happen. Maybe if I didn’t talk about it…
“Come in,” I call, wondering if I should’ve had Paul here with me. He offered, but it just felt better if I did this on my own. But now I’m panicking.
My hands shake and I feel sweat begin to build on my forehead, but when he walks through the door what happens is unexpected.
I start to cry.
The tears flood my eyes, streaming down my cheeks, warm and salty as I sniff a few times, swiping at my eyes.
I don’t want him to feel sorry for me. I don’t want him to comfort me or to try to appease my guilt.
“You okay, Sadie?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know why I’m crying.
“Are you okay?” I ask him back, my words coming out garbled and through ragged breaths.
“It was years ago and of course I’m okay. I’m still working. He didn’t win.” His words are casual as he shrugs his shoulders. It’s almost as if he doesn’t even know why I asked him to meet with me.
“I met with Roger,” I admit, sniffling and wiping at my eyes again. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you even if you say it doesn’t matter. Someone owes you an apology.”
“It’s not you who owes me an apology. I stopped waiting for it a long time ago. Why do you think I took this role?”
Ian moves from the door to the small couch and sits down, his arm sliding across the top of the couch.
“I have no idea,” I say, openly admitting my confusion. I’m not sure I could work with the wife of someone I had that type of encounter with and not hold a grudge.
“It’s my fuck you to Noel. It’s me saying I support you because I know he’s out there trying to trash your name and reputation.” Now his words are harsh, but they’re not directed at me. I find myself calming down as I take a seat a few feet from him.
“But you know nothing about me other than I was married to Noel,” I cut in, my fear of being permanently attached to Noel constantly in the back of my mind.
“I knew you weren’t a part of any of this. People talk, Sadie and they don’t just talk about him. Your name has been a whisper on everyone’s lips for years,” Ian says, giving me a small smile.
“After all this time, why did you decide to be a part of Roger’s article? I’m sure you settled out of court and signed an NDA,” I say, curious about how he’s gotten around all of this. Roger and I didn’t fully discuss everyone’s case or story, but he did mention he thought Ian might have been Noel’s first assault case.
“I did settle only because I was young and didn’t know what I was doing. I came out in the high five figures which at the time was a lot of money to me, but looking back on it now, I should’ve pursued it, pushed it further. My lawyer just kept warning me about who I was up against.”
Everyone is afraid of Noel Robinson.
“No non-disclosure?” I ask again.
“Yes, I signed one, but for some odd reason it had an end date on it. I reached out to the lawyer who settled my case all those years ago and his thoughts were that Noel figured I’d either be long gone in the industry by the end date or that I would’ve forgotten what happened by now.”
“Hard to forget though, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. It made me handle things differently, and honestly I think it’s why I worked so hard to make a name for myself. I wasn’t going to let some prick with too much power overshadow my talent,” Ian states sharply.
“Think about the number of people who gave up because of him,” I respond.
“Think about the number of women who are afraid of men because of him,” he retorts, every word hitting me like a punch in the gut.
I swallow hard, the tears beginning to form again as I say nothing in return. He’s spoken my greatest fear out loud and as much as I never feared men because of him, I know there are plenty of women who do.
“It’s the reason I chose to make my story public,” Ian adds, when I fail to respond. “The article is less believable without my story and I’m not saying that to imply
that any of these women are lying. It’s just a fact that women are treated differently than men. People will call them dramatic and hysterical. They’ll claim they’re lying because Noel will spin the truth in any way he can.”
“I hate that his words hold more weight than the truth,” I tell Ian, still struggling to hold back the tears that threaten.
“I do too, and that’s why we both need to speak out. We need to stand up for anyone who has been victimized by him, including you. You are just as much a victim as any of us. If not more so.”
“I wasn’t a victim. I chose to stay and that’s where things are different. That’s why I’m partially to blame for what Noel has done. I could’ve left. I could’ve said something, but I didn’t.” This time when I speak my words are composed, all traces of sadness are gone.
“But you are now. You need to stop blaming yourself. People are allowed to change and your actions will show that,” Ian says, making what I’ve just said weigh heavier on me.
“You’re right. Thank you.”
When our conversation finally ends, I feel better about how things will play out. I can’t expect every person involved in this to treat me the same way, but I can show people I’m not supporting Noel and what he did any longer.
I know the press will claim I’m doing this to gain publicity for my movie, and there’s no way Noel’s PR team won’t run with that too, but none of that matters. What matters is these people have their voice heard, that their voice rings louder than any tabloid or internet story. I plan to make sure of that.
I walk into a quiet house, the glow of the TV guiding me toward where Paul is sprawled out on the couch. His hair is disheveled and he’s wearing just a pair of gym shorts.
“How’d it go?” he asks, looking up at me.
I climb on top of him, my body covering his as I rest my head on his chest. I feel the warmth of his skin against my cheek and his hands slide under my t-shirt, resting on my back.
“Exhausting, but okay,” I respond. “I feel better about things.”
“What did Ian have to say?”
“He said he did the article because he wants people to believe the story and knows Noel will attack the women who did.” I pause for a second, wondering if I can get the next sentence out without crying. “He said he doesn’t blame me.” The words come out but so do the tears.
“Baby, why are you crying?” Paul asks, shifting so he’s now pushing up on his elbows, but I can’t look at him.
“Because I have so much fucking guilt over what happened.” I manage to get out through stuttered sobs. “Because I’m overwhelmed. Because I fear for my career, for what could happen to these people, for what could happen to Roger’s career. Fuck, I don’t know.”
“Come here,” he says, pulling me closer, his arms wrapping tightly around me and for what feels like forever, he just holds me.
“Can we talk about the ‘what-if’?” Paul asks, his words hanging between us. “What if Noel is able to ruin your career?”
“You can’t be serious?” I reply, pushing up so I’m straddling his hips. “Are you trying to make me hysterical?”
“Yes, I’m being serious. You are stressed about this and by looking at what could happen it may help you process it.”
I shake my head at him, practically rolling my eyes and thinking I should storm away from this ridiculous question.
“Seriously, Sadie. Let’s talk about it.”
“Fine. I would lose everything. My house, my reputation. I have no skills other than writing and directing.” I let out a huff, folding my arms across my chest.
Smirking up at me Paul chuckles a little.
“Okay, so you’re going as worst-case-scenario as possible, huh?”
“Yes. You told me to look at what could happen and I did.” I lift my chin at him, narrowing my eyes.
“So homeless and living on the streets. You gonna take up drug use too?”
“You’re the one who started this,” I shoot back.
“Can we think about this logically though?” he asks, pulling me back closer to him. “You own this house. Sell it. You’re a writer. Find a job working for a newspaper, a magazine, a catalog, whatever. Live off of me. I don’t care, but your life will not fall apart.” He says everything with finality, like he knows there are other options, and his logic is calming.
“You’re right,” I mutter, feeling defeated by my own stupidity.
“I’m what?” he teases back, his fingers sliding under my shirt again and undoing my bra.
Sucking at his neck I whisper back, “You’re right.”
“How about I knock you up and we sell this big house, buy one in the suburbs and live happily ever after?” Paul jokes, but right now nothing sounds better.
But as much as I want to disappear from this shit show, I know I can’t.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Paul
“Can’t sleep?”
Sadie exhales, the noise filling the quiet of her bedroom. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
I chuckle, rolling over so I’m hovering above her. “No,” I say, brushing my lips against hers.
“Then why are you awake?” she asks, looking up at me, her eyes wide in the darkness.
“Because,” I say, kissing her softly. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
Sadie exhales again, even as I move my mouth to her neck, gently kissing and sucking her skin. She’s tense beneath me. She’s distracted and thinking, and I know exactly why.
“I can’t stop thinking about the article,” she confirms as I kiss a path along her jaw and back to her mouth.
“I know,” I murmur, gently nibbling at her bottom lip.
“About what people are going to think.”
I kiss a path across the other side of her jaw, kissing the spot just below her ear that always has her melting against me. I feel her body loosen just a little as I murmur, “I know.”
“What Noel’s going to think?”
This time it’s me exhaling as I move back to her, covering her mouth with mine to stop anymore talking. She kisses me back, but I can tell she’s still thinking, her mind whirling with every possible worse case scenario she can come up with.
“I know,” I whisper again as I shuffle lower, kissing a path down her neck, even as she starts talking again.
“He’s going to lose his shit,” she murmurs. “Going to make my life hell.”
I trail my tongue across her collarbone before moving lower, nipping and sucking at her skin.
“The divorce will be…oh, fuck,” she finally moans when I suck a nipple into my mouth.
Her body bows beneath mine now as I suck harder, gently biting her. I feel her fingers slide into my hair, gripping tightly as she moves beneath me. Her body is tense still but in a totally different way now. I don’t stop, continuing my path down her body, kissing a trail across her ribs, down her sternum where I stop, pressing a wet kiss to her stomach.
Sadie gasps as another soft moan falls from her lips, making me smile. I continue on, kissing a path over to her hip where I gently bite the rise of her bone. My hands slide over her warm skin, caressing her sides, her ass, her thighs, before gently easing them apart.
“Paul,” she breathes out as I settle myself between her legs.
I don’t answer her, instead I move my mouth over her skin, my palm flat against her hip and pushing her back onto the bed as I lick a path up the inside of her thigh.
“Oh god.”
I smile, kissing and biting her inner thigh this time as I slide a finger inside her, loving the moan she lets out in response. I know she’s not thinking about the article anymore, she’s barely thinking about anything as I move my mouth higher and start to lick and suck her, slowly pumping my finger in and out.
Her fingers tighten in my hair, her hips lifting off the bed, pressing herself against my mouth as though she’s asking for more. I slide a second finger inside, sucking harder as I pump a little faster.
“
Paul, fuck…” she moans, her back arching. “Yes, god…yes.”
She comes quickly, clenching around my fingers, her body tightening as she lets out a long low groan into the silence of the room.
I slip my fingers out, kissing a path back up her body as I push inside her, covering her mouth with mine and not giving her a chance to speak.
Sadie wraps her arms around me, her nails digging into my back as I start to move, my hips thrusting against her in long, deep strokes. Our kisses grow hungrier, deeper as I push inside her, the only sounds filling the room that of our soft groans, our skin as it meets.
I feel Sadie’s hips rise up to meet mine as my hand moves to her knee, hitching her leg higher so I can push deeper inside her. She groans when I do, her head pushing back into the pillow as I thrust into her over and over again.
Her skin is hot against me, her heart pounding in her chest as her mouth once again finds mine, her tongue slipping into my mouth as she kisses me hard.
“Oh god,” she murmurs. “Paul, yes…yes,” she says as her hips lift off the bed she comes again, this time pulling me right along with her.
“Still thinking?”
Sadie laughs, lifting her head off my chest as she looks down at me, fingers brushing against my cheek. “So that’s what that was about?”
Chuckling, I move my hand to her ass and squeeze. “Please, like I ever need a reason to do that,” I say, cocking a brow.
She smiles, her eyes shining. “Well, thank you,” she whispers, brushing her lips against mine. “It did help.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmur, my other hand moving to her head, holding her against me as I kiss her again. “And just so you know, I’ll still be here.”
Sadie pulls back. “What?”
“Well,” I say, pulling her close again, “if the worst really does happen, I’ll still be here. With you.”
“Paul,” she breathes out, kissing me again.
“You know,” I say around her kisses. “The article’s probably already out.”
