by Fiona Riley
“Yes.” Emerson tried to steady the hands at her side that were threatening to shake. “I did.”
“And what she said about you, her accusations—they’re entirely false?” Hayley was close, but not touching her, and it killed her a little.
Emerson sighed. “Not exactly.”
Chapter Seventeen
Hayley didn’t say anything because a part of her was in denial. She’d been listening to Rachel bad-mouth vaguely about Emerson for weeks and weeks. But over that time, she’d decided that even if there was a relationship between them, there couldn’t be any truth to the villainous personality Rachel described. The Emerson she had gotten to know in that time was not vindictive or duplicitous like Rachel claimed. The Emerson she had gotten to know was wary of the limelight, fearful of being caught off guard, and vulnerable. She was on the defensive, not the attack. Rachel’s narrative didn’t match up. It couldn’t be true. Could it?
The silence seemed to make Emerson jittery. She started pacing again. “It started really casually at first. She’d come by more and more between scenes and lounge around the trailer. We’d run lines and talk about the characters and their quirks in hopes of perfecting the performances and to really understand the nuances of Willow and Rhea. Honestly, I didn’t think anything of it. She was so aggressively flirtatious with Johnny—and everyone with a heartbeat—I guess I missed the signals. I thought flirting was just her…voice. Nothing personal.
“What she said last night on Extra was partially true. The shift in our relationship did occur in my trailer and we were rehearsing an emotionally difficult scene that eventually leads to Willow and Rhea kissing for the first time but—I promise you—we weren’t rehearsing the kiss. That was all Rachel.”
Hayley leaned her hip against the counter and waited. “Go on.”
Emerson ran her hand through her hair. “She kissed me at the end of the scene, and I went with it. I assumed she just wanted to work out some nerves before we were in front of the camera, but that wasn’t the case. In the film Rhea makes the first move but backtracks after Willow reciprocates, but Rachel never backed off.” She stopped pacing and dropped her hands by her sides. “And I don’t know what happened next. I know I stopped her and told her I wasn’t sure what she wanted, and she told me she wanted me. And then suddenly there it was, like it had been there all along. We were more than costars on Willow Path. We were so much more than that.”
The disappointment Hayley felt must have been all over her face, because Emerson looked as distressed as she felt. Hayley hated feeling that way, but a tiny part of her had hoped it was all just Rachel spouting off at the mouth. She was…jealous. Which felt stupid because she was just in bed with Emerson last night. Which suddenly made this seem so much more embarrassing…because who else had Emerson fallen into bed with? Anyone that spent any significant amount of time with her? No, that didn’t seem like her. But did she really know her? She thought she did. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Emerson stepped forward and took Hayley’s hands. “Hayley, you see what my life is like. You see how incredibly lonely it can be. Behind the flashing cameras and the television interviews, there’s this exhausting sprint of the Hollywood machine. And I made a bad decision. Because even though I knew in my heart that Rachel’s motives were for her own gain, I ignored them.”
“What does that mean, Emerson? What motives?” Hayley’s head felt foggy. All Emerson had done up to this point was confirm Rachel’s story. What had she gotten herself into? “I think I need to sit to hear this.”
Emerson frowned but nodded. She pulled Hayley back to the bench they’d shared and sat next to her. She turned to face her but left space between them. More space than was there before. But things were different now. How quickly things had changed. That space helped Hayley clear her head. She needed that space to breathe and think. And—most importantly—to listen.
“Rachel is used to being on top, in every sense of the word. She’s used to being the prettiest and the highest paid and the most successful and whatever other bullshit she needs to make her ego feel stroked. What she wasn’t used to was not getting her way.” Emerson pointed toward the script. “This film is different for a lot of reasons, but one of those reasons is that a female director is at the helm.”
“Paige Montgomery,” Hayley replied.
“Exactly. And the script was adapted by the original author—”
“Kate Stanton.”
“Precisely.” Emerson worried her lip before continuing. “Rachel is used to dealing with men—seducing them, playing to their egos to get what she wants, manipulating them…It worked wonderfully with Johnny—she had that moron eating out of her hand—but it didn’t work with Kate and Paige. In fact, her little shenanigans backfired in a big way.”
“What shenanigans?”
“At first it was little stuff, like she showed up later and later, which cost the already strapped production time and money. And then she wanted rewrites to elevate Rhea’s character. She wanted to change the narrative to be more flattering because she felt like the writing didn’t portray Rhea in the light she was hoping.”
“Which was how, exactly?” Hayley had read the novel. Rhea’s character was flawed—that’s what had been so appealing to her about the novel and the prospective film. Rhea started out as every bi-curious straight girl Hayley had learned to fear and hate. But her character arc was well done. She was fleshed out and the reader could feel empathetic to her confusion and subsequent struggle. Rhea’s character development showed an important and valuable example of sexual fluidity and self-acceptance, even though in the end—spoiler alert!—she denied her true feelings. Hayley had expected the movie version to line up with the book.
Emerson shook her head. “Rachel doesn’t live in the same world as the rest of us.” She paused. “I know how that sounds coming from me. Let me clarify.”
“Please do.” Hayley was joking. She felt like they needed levity. Emerson’s small smile told her that she’d succeeded.
“Willow and I are not that different. I’ve been in meaningful relationships with both men and women, but I’ve chosen women most times.” Emerson continued, “But I’ve been Rhea, too. I fought with myself and my perception of what was allowed and acceptable. In this business, you don’t want to pigeonhole yourself. You don’t want to be typecast for life because—let’s face it—the careers of actresses are shorter than our male counterparts’. When things show any sign of wrinkling or sagging, our expiration date gets moved up.”
Hayley tried not to revisit the naked images of Emerson from last night since this was a serious discussion. There was no sagging anywhere there, but she felt like it was inappropriate to mention that at this moment. “You feel like you’re expendable.”
“A dime a dozen around here in the Land of Beautiful People.” Emerson sighed.
Hayley considered the truth of that statement. She was very well aware Rachel was stunningly attractive. And she knew, by society’s standards, she couldn’t hold a candle to her. But for some reason Emerson seemed to like her—why? That she wasn’t sure of. “Okay, so you’re like Willow. And Rachel’s not?”
Emerson’s expression was devoid of emotion. “I’m not going to say that Rachel doesn’t have legitimate feelings for any one person, regardless of their sex or sexual identity, but I will say that Rachel loves herself first and above all else. It wouldn’t surprise me if she ends up marrying a real-life Disney Prince Charming after all this hoopla, and our short tryst together becomes a talking point for her to propel or enhance some project or movie. I didn’t matter to Rachel in the grand scheme of things. I was a means to an end. A stepping stone for world domination. But she didn’t count on the director and the screenwriter being gay women who could smell her fraudulence better than I could. I was too close to it. Or too foolish to accept it.”
Hayley hadn’t seen Emerson so detached and cold like this before. It made her uncomfortable. “Paige and Kate knew?”
“Not exactly. I think they suspected it. But I tried hard to keep it under wraps. I knew what it would look like in the media. I wanted to feel it out a bit before I made any grand statements or gestures.”
Hayley could have done without that word choice, but she didn’t mention that either.
“Her on-set antics started to piss everyone off, and when she tried to change the direction of the storyline, Kate nearly killed her.” Emerson laughed. “Rachel has a volatile, at times violent, temper. That was something I learned about her behind the scenes. She was the jealous type, but it was more than about relationships or affection from someone else. She was the jealous type about fame and esteem as well. Rachel was used to casting shadows, not being in one.”
Hayley considered this. She’d read interviews from Paige and Kate regarding the movie and the filming process and both women had gushed praise after praise about Emerson’s work. They talked about her professionalism, her work ethic, her raw intensity and authenticity. Kate said she’d written this role with Emerson in mind but hadn’t told Emerson that until after she’d signed on. She’d said an interview Emerson gave while still in her teens just stuck with her for years and years. Their affection and respect for Emerson was clear as day. Hayley got the impression they had a different take on Rachel. “You cast the shadow this time.”
Emerson looked shy. “This is the role of my lifetime and I know it. I knew it the day I saw the script. To leave anything on the table would be a disservice to myself and this story. I ate, drank, and slept this role.”
“Interesting word choice.” Hayley couldn’t help herself. She was a little jealous, okay?
“Ouch.” Emerson feigned a dramatically wounded look before getting serious again. “I didn’t seduce Rachel. I let myself get fooled into thinking there might be something there when there most definitely wasn’t. I’m guilty of being a fool. And naïve. And I hate myself for that. But I’m not some evil seductress out to ruin Rachel’s career. She did that all on her own. I won’t take the blame for that.”
Hayley didn’t know how to feel. The disbelief was fading away, in its place the cold, hard truth. Emerson and Rachel had had a relationship. She might as well start there. “How long did it go on?”
“A few months. Three, tops. The film was shot quickly and on a tight schedule. We got involved after the first quarter of filming was completed.”
Emerson was giving her that direct answer thing from last night, the one she’d used with the Improper Bostonian guy. Hayley didn’t like it. She wanted her Emerson back. The thought made her sad all over again. As if she was privy to anything or had any ownership over this thing between them. If it was anything at all. Her insecurity flared. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
Emerson looked surprised. “I offered to—”
“Last night.” Hayley pointed out, “I’ve asked you directly and indirectly nearly a dozen times and you shut me down. Why now?”
Emerson’s tone was soft. “Things are different now.”
“And why’s that? Because we slept together?” Hayley could hear the trepidation in her voice and willed it to stop.
“Yes.” Emerson blinked.
Ouch. She was telling her out of pity. Or—worse—out of a feeling of obligation. Ugh.
“But that’s not the only reason.” Emerson reached for her hand but hesitated, instead stopping just short. “Hayley, what I said before was true.”
“The part about falling into bed with Rachel and keeping it a secret?” Hayley hated herself for saying that because she could tell that Emerson was struggling here.
Emerson’s eyes flashed with hurt and Hayley hated herself a little more. “Hayley. Don’t. I…”
Hayley kept her mouth shut because Emerson was trying to tell her something and all she could do was insult her.
“Last night was important to me. It is important to me, in the present tense, as in in this moment. I don’t share myself, Hayley. I don’t give myself to people. I can’t. I get hurt and used and discarded. I’m—”
“Expendable.” Hayley softened. She could see it now. A little of it. She thought she could anyway.
Emerson nodded. “I’m a cover story. A payday. A headline. I’m everything Rachel thought I was and more. I’m ashamed of how easy I made it for her.”
Hayley could see the regret etched across Emerson’s face, and she felt guilty all over again. “Do you love her?”
“What?” Emerson looked shocked. “No. God, no. Not even a little. We had a brief relationship, completely devoid of emotion or sentimentality. Or sincerity, for that matter. It was the Rachel show through and through. And deep down, I knew that all along. I just ignored it until it was too late.”
“And now?” Hayley traced the outline of Emerson’s face with her eyes. Her mind was racing, and her heart was, too. Emerson had gone out of her way to tell her that last night was important. She wanted to talk about that some more, but she needed more answers.
Emerson shrugged and deflated against the cushion behind them. “And now I’m fighting a losing battle in the court of public opinion and I’m exhausted.”
“Is that why you don’t fight back?” Hayley had been wondering that all along. “Is it really such a big deal that you two were in a relationship?”
Emerson’s expression as unreadable and Hayley was confused all over again. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Why?” she challenged. “Why not just cop to it and tell your side of the story?”
Emerson looked away. A tell. She wasn’t being entirely honest.
“Emerson.”
Emerson blinked and took a breath. “There’s a lot of moving pieces in this puzzle, Hayley. The studio, the financial backers of the film, the film itself, my career, all of it. There are more reasons to stay quiet and let Rachel self-destruct than there are to stand up and fight back.” Emerson paused. “But I am fighting back. I have you. You are going to set the record straight, lay it all out there. The good, the bad, the ugly. I’m trusting you to do just that. That was always the plan.”
Emerson looked at her and the vulnerability from before reappeared. The softness from last night, the need. It was there on her face, in her eyes, so loud that Hayley could feel it.
“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Hayley. You’re different. Things are different because you’re different. Not because we slept together—which I already told you meant something to me. No. It’s more than that. I can’t quite find the words, but it’s more. You are more. More than I’m used to, more than I can comprehend. More. And it’s wonderful and scary and palpable.”
Emerson reached out again, but this time she didn’t stop. She caressed Hayley’s cheek and Hayley didn’t have any insecurities anymore. She was brought back to last night on that couch and her impulse was to protect Emerson. To shield her and care for her. She cared for Emerson and it was undeniable. And the look in Emerson’s eyes told her the feeling was mutual.
Emerson leaned forward and rested her forehead against Hayley’s and Hayley was glad to have her close again. She decided she didn’t need the space after all. She had a lot to unpack about this conversation, but she knew the end result would be the same. Emerson was here—in this moment, in front of her, open and exposed—and she wouldn’t turn away from that. She couldn’t. “Last night was important to me, too.”
Emerson leaned back and studied her face. She gave Hayley an almost imperceptible nod before saying, “I’ve been thinking about it all morning. I can’t focus on anything else. Every time I close my eyes, I see you and I want to touch you and feel you. And I probably shouldn’t, but I do. And it’s all I can think about—”
Hayley closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to Emerson’s. She couldn’t talk about it anymore. She needed to feel it. To taste it. Because she’d felt the same way Emerson described. Last night had been incredible for a million different reasons, but Emerson was reason numero uno.
Chapter Eighte
en
Emerson closed her eyes at the feeling of Hayley’s lips on hers, and she forgot about all the stress and anxiety that conversation had stirred up in her. They had more to talk about, but now didn’t seem like the time. Right now she wanted to be in the moment with Hayley. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe she could have this—this happiness, this closeness—with Hayley and still juggle the rest of life’s chaos. Maybe she could make this work. She wanted it so badly.
“Has anyone told you you’re an amazing kisser?” Hayley spoke across her lips before kissing her harder. Emerson opened her mouth to let Hayley’s tongue in. Hayley purred, and Emerson felt herself warm all over. That was a noise she could hear all day and not get tired of.
“Not like that, they haven’t.” She kissed away from Hayley’s lips to suck on her jaw. Hayley’s arms settled around her shoulders, holding her close.
“Like what?” Hayley dipped her chin to kiss Emerson again and Emerson laughed against her lips.
“Like they were grateful about it.” Emerson pulled back to look at Hayley.
Hayley bit her lip and Emerson leaned forward to soothe it with her tongue. Hayley pulled back at the last second to add, “Well, I am grateful about it.”
Emerson reconnected their mouths and danced her tongue across Hayley’s bottom lip, sucking it between hers and massaging the flesh with her tongue. Hayley’s thumb stroked behind her ear and she let out a contented sigh. “Kissing you, Hayley, is something to be grateful for. I’m just glad you think I’m good at it.”
Hayley leaned back and shook her head. “You are everything and nothing like I expected you to be.”
Emerson leaned her head on the back of the cushioned bench they shared and rested her chin on her hand. “Oh?”
