by Fiona Riley
“Carpenter’s exclusive interview with Sterling—including the bombshell revelation that the actress had a child in her teens that she gave up for adoption—has received positive feedback since its release earlier today, but calls to her camp for comment have remained unanswered. The identity of the child and the circumstances surrounding the adoption remain private.”
Hayley looked at the cell phone she had turned off after it started ringing nonstop. Alison had taken the house phone off the hook, and they’d avoided as much technology as possible. She wished they’d kept it up.
Alison muted the show as they moved onto Kardashian news. “Holy shit. You were on E!”
Hayley dropped her head. “Ugh.”
“I read your piece this morning. It was incredible. Really. You nailed it, Hayley.” Alison gave her a one-armed hug, but she felt no comfort or pride.
“I lied.” Hayley stared at the floor.
“About what?”
“Rachel.”
Alison sat up straighter next to her. “What do you mean exactly?”
She looked at Alison and felt so defeated by admitting this. “Rachel—if I’m being frank—is a fucking super bitch who was blackmailing Emerson about her daughter so she wouldn’t fight back in the press. I softened the edges for both of them so as to limit the negative backlash for either camp. Or myself.” That part was what she was most ashamed of. Rachel had frightened her at the café. Her thinly veiled threats had settled heavily on Hayley’s shoulders. She wanted to do right by Emerson, but she wasn’t particularly eager to highlight the target on her back. She felt weak and cowardly.
She sighed. Emerson. She had been so hurt yesterday when Hayley had told her about Rachel and about how Rachel had threatened her. She had looked devastated. It wasn’t something Hayley ever wanted to see on Emerson’s face. That image haunted her last night during her restless sleep. She had met with Rachel to better understand where some of her anger might be coming from, where her desire to hurt Emerson and Rory originated. But all she did was make everything worse, for Emerson and herself.
“Oh. So you just fudged the truth a little.” Alison patted her on the shoulder. “Love is the worst.”
“Sure is.” Hayley was emotionally exhausted. She should be doing cartwheels because her story was generating so much buzz. But the only person she wanted to talk to about this wasn’t going to call or text or stop by. There was a finality to how Emerson walked out last night, and she knew it. Still, she hoped Emerson would read the article and find peace in it. She hoped she would be pleased. She hoped she would laugh and smile at the parts Hayley had put in there just for her. And she hoped, more than anything, Emerson could see that she wrote it with love in her heart and the best intentions in mind.
“I’m going to go out and buy us the biggest ice cream sundaes possible, and you are going to shower and change into something less tear soaked and comfier, and we’re going to watch bad buddy comedies and avoid the world for one more day. Then we can face it.” Alison stood and grabbed the Tylenol off the table. “After I medicate. Because my head is swimming.”
Hayley laughed and settled into the couch, resigned to remaining under house arrest for another day. She had no intention of stepping outside and into the flashing camera lights. She hoped that now that the story was out, she’d get some privacy back.
The thought made her sad because she might be able to get back to normal, but Emerson and her family wouldn’t. The movie premiere was in two days, and this was just the beginning for her, and for them. The secret was out, but Hayley hoped Emerson felt like she had done right by her and that it was on her terms. Hayley closed her eyes and tried to remember the image of Emerson in her shirt at the lake. That was her favorite memory of them together. She hoped Emerson could find some semblance of that tranquility as the weekend thundered on. But Hayley wished more than anything that she would have been able to find it with her.
* * *
Emerson had read Hayley’s piece about four times since it came out. Each time she found something she’d missed the first time, when she’d raced through it to see what topics and points Hayley had expounded upon. Only then did she read through it again more slowly, to truly appreciate the content.
The write-up was funny and sweet and at times hard to read. She wasn’t used to seeing herself from someone else’s perspective. Hayley’s perceptions of her were honest and sincere. But honest. Some of Emerson’s hardened Hollywood side was represented, like how she interviewed with people who weren’t Hayley, and how she shied away from phones and cameras. Hayley did an amazing job of humanizing Emerson’s celebrity and making it seem almost tangible to the reader. Emerson appreciated her interpretation of the world Emerson lived in. Hayley described her akin to a prima ballerina, performing night after night for demanding and unforgiving audiences, with no room for error or injury. There was no place for a misstep or imperfection. Emerson could picture the delicate porcelain ballerina in the ornate jewelry box that Hayley described—spinning perfectly and eternally without ever moving forward or back. That’s how Hayley explained celebrity in this article. Unrealistic, brutal, exacting, and never ending. An impossible façade for a flawed, imperfect human to uphold.
Most importantly, though, Hayley was gentle with the Rory reveal. She was careful to limit the facts disclosed while bringing attention to the emotional journeys. Hayley described the challenges posed by Emerson’s age and her inability to properly care for Rory in a way that was honest but kind. Hayley wrote about how giving up a child was an impossible decision made by a person who was a child herself, but that the decision had been made selflessly and with a maturity that Hayley did not have at that age. Emerson smiled at that, because she had always felt like she did the best with what she had at the time, but that never felt like enough. Hayley’s narrative told her it was. She wanted to believe it.
She found the bit about Rachel particularly interesting. Hayley had told the truth, but she’d softened it. She’d rounded the edges and removed the sharpness. And she didn’t mention Rachel was a blackmailing monster. Emerson wondered if this had anything to do with the meeting she’d had with Rachel. Part of her thought it was a smart move to preserve whatever career Hayley would have in this town moving forward, although she hated that that was even a thing to consider. But another part of her felt like Rachel was getting off scot-free. Both parts made Emerson feel like shit.
She pushed away her tablet and looked up at the ceiling fan. The premiere was tonight but she didn’t feel like celebrating. In fact, she didn’t feel like ever leaving this bed. But the vast emptiness of it made her heart hurt.
Tremont and her team were still working hard to find the origin of those photographs, and Hayley’s revelation about meeting with Rachel didn’t help minimize their suspect list at all. But something about it seemed off. Emerson’s gut was telling her that Rachel, though probably involved, wasn’t likely to be the mastermind here. This person had intimate knowledge of where Emerson would be and when, and the move was calculated in a way that Rachel wasn’t. Rachel was more explosive and dramatic and, well, Rachel. Emerson was glad she’d had the chance to give Hayley some forewarning, but she hoped, for Hayley’s sake, that now that the article was public, some of the threat was neutralized.
She’d wanted nothing more than to call Hayley and congratulate her on the article’s release and the good buzz it was garnering so far. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d done enough damage to Hayley’s life already. And this attention, although positive for now, wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. As long as Willow Path was relevant in the media, Hayley’s article would be mentioned. She was along for the ride whether she wanted to be or not. Emerson wondered if Hayley regretted ever meeting her.
She felt bad about that. Because even though she’d walked away from Hayley, she did it for Hayley’s own good, not for her own. She didn’t regret anything that happened between them, except for the part where Hayley was getting
hurt. She just hoped not too much of that hurt was directly from her. Because she was in love with Hayley. So much. And she couldn’t imagine hurting Hayley intentionally or otherwise. That’s why it was better that she leave, to shield Hayley from replays of this episode for the rest of her life.
But this was the worst—watching Hayley’s genius and talent recognized and celebrated and not being able to share that with her. Because that’s all she wanted, time with Hayley. She just wanted Hayley.
Her cell phone rang beside her. She had every intention to ignore it, but at the last second, she scooped it up and was glad she did. It was Deidre.
“Dee. Hi.”
“Hey, Em.” Her sister sounded tired. “So, I read the article…”
“What’d you think?” Emerson hadn’t realized she would be nervous about Deidre’s opinion until now. But she was. So nervous.
“I think this Hayley woman is a total catch.” Deidre laughed softly.
“Oh, why do you say that?” Emerson’s heart hurt because it was true, but she wanted to hear why Deidre thought so.
“She’s got your number, Em. She pulled no punches. She did a great job describing you and all your little idiosyncrasies, and she made you seem lovable and gorgeous and smart, and best of all? She handled Rory’s story with a delicacy that I never could have expected. She managed to tell your story, without telling too much, and she gave us a real shot at preserving our family’s privacy. So that’s what I mean when I say she’s a total catch. Because she is.”
Emerson started crying and she couldn’t stop. She was crying because she felt relief. She was crying because she felt regret. She was crying because her sister, like always, was right. Hayley was a total catch and Emerson had to live the rest of her life knowing that and not being able to be with her.
“Emerson? Why are you crying?” Deidre sounded worried. “We’ll figure it out, Em. We’ll find a new normal. You saved us from a tidal wave. Your intuition was dead right—you took the narrative from Rachel, and Hayley delivered. It all worked out, Em. The best it could have. We’ll figure it out. It’s going to be okay.”
“I hope you’re right.” Emerson was glad to hear the relief in her sister’s voice, but her concerns were selfishly rooted in her own broken heart at the moment. She knew Deidre and her family would be fine. They had each other to lean on for support. Emerson was alone. Again. And it had never felt more devastating.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Rachel’s face fell momentarily when Emerson walked into the soundstage where her current project was based, and Emerson took an inordinate amount of pleasure from that. Rachel rebounded quickly, a tight smile forming as she dismissed whatever minion was nearby. Emerson didn’t really care who was around to hear what she had to say.
“Emerson. This is a pleasant surprise.” The flash of anger in her eyes told her that was a lie.
“Rachel.” She matched the sweet tone Rachel was feigning and took it a step further, leaning in for an embrace and kissing her on the cheek.
Rachel was rigid in her arms. Emerson noticed Bernard in the corner, but he didn’t move. She imagined Rachel must had signaled for him to stand down. She had it on good authority that Bernard liked her, anyway. She wasn’t worried about that big teddy bear. She didn’t have any beef with him.
“We should catch up.” She leaned back but stayed close.
Rachel looked uncomfortable. “We should. I’m a little busy at the moment. Another time, perhaps.”
Rachel made as though she was going to take a step to the side, but Emerson matched her move.
Rachel’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to say something, but Emerson cut her off.
“Don’t you fucking dare call Bernard over here. I swear to you—I will make you pay for every bad fucking thing you have ever done, you selfish, narcissistic monster. Smile and come for a walk with me, or I’ll air your dirty laundry on every major media outlet within the next fifteen minutes.”
Rachel snarled. “You have nothing on me. I’m the victim here.”
Emerson laughed but kept a perma-smile on her face to keep up appearances. Her voice was a near whisper. “You think I’ve been lying low all these months and just taking your hits without building an arsenal of my own? You’re foolish if that’s the case. I’m sure America would love to hear how you threatened the life and safety of an eleven-year-old girl to get back at your ex.”
“I never threatened her.”
“Like hell you didn’t.”
Rachel looked panicked. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Walk, now.”
She nodded and collected herself. “I’ll be right back, Bernard. Emerson and I need to have a chat.”
Bernard looked suspicious but didn’t move. He gave Emerson a nod as they passed. She’d always liked him.
Emerson led them to a quiet area and asked for the room. A few techs scattered when they realized who was asking. No one made direct eye contact. Clearly, Rachel had flexed her muscle here, and people were afraid of her. Good. That benefited Emerson.
Once the room was clear and the door closed, Rachel raged, “How fucking dare you show up here and act like you have any authority over me.”
That was the Rachel she was used to. Not the sad, pathetic crybaby who’d been in the media lately. Her Rachel was a fiery beast, and at the moment, she was fuming.
Emerson strode up to her and walked her back against the wall behind her. She crowded her to the point just before touching. “I don’t know which one of your two faces to say this to, so I’ll try both. I’m done with your bullshit. We both know what went down, and I have no apologies for the mess you made for yourself. But you came after my family. You want the fame and the praise and the love? It’s yours. I never fought you, I never fought back. But you came for Rory and now I’m done with your games. So help me God, Rachel, if she gets hurt or is harmed in any way, I will make it my life’s work to ruin you and everything you hold dear.”
Rachel’s eyes were wide, and she sagged under Emerson’s gaze. “I never meant for this to get out of hand, Emerson. I wouldn’t have said anything. I was just angry. I thought it would bait you into…I’m sorry.”
Emerson could tell by Rachel’s face that she was telling the truth. She stepped back, and the fury that fueled her began to fade. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter to me, Rachel. I’ve heard what you said, over and over. You weren’t insignificant to me. I’m sorry about the way things worked out, if I ever made you feel unwanted or—”
“You didn’t.” Rachel sighed. “The truth is, you were great. And you’re right. I made this mess myself and I need to sort it out.”
Emerson appreciated her honesty and stepped back to give her some space. “I was actually going to call your friend Hayley and thank her. She did a nice job of not making me out to be the bad guy—”
“Even though you are, and you totally deserve it.” She still had a little rage. She wasn’t perfect, okay?
“Even if I deserved it.” Rachel’s face softened, and Emerson saw the woman she had developed true feelings for when they were together. This Rachel was kind and more caring than the one who graced movie screens and the pages of magazines. But she was fleeting. This Rachel could not survive in the harsh world that Hollywood forced upon them. And Emerson understood that better than anyone. “She took the high road and I’m grateful for that.”
Emerson nodded. What Hayley did had been noble. She didn’t have to paint such a pretty picture of Rachel, or of Emerson, for that matter. She’d taken a risk and from Emerson’s standpoint, it’d paid off.
Rachel extended her hand toward Emerson. “Truce? I’ll stop stirring up the past as long as we agree to let Hayley’s version of the story live on in the media. Both of us accepting of what happened and agreeing to leave it behind us.”
Emerson was wary but also weary. “Fine. No more mudslinging. No more threatening the people in my life, including Hayley and anyone else. And a
bove all, Rory stays out of the media. She didn’t do anything to invite this scrutiny and she deserves her privacy. Agreed?”
Rachel nodded. “Agreed.”
“Did you tell anyone else about her?” Emerson had to know.
Rachel shook her head. “I never intended to say anything, ever. I was trying to hurt you. That was wrong.”
“You succeeded.” Emerson felt herself deflate.
“I’m sorry. I mean that.” Rachel’s expression was sincere.
“Me, too.” Emerson sighed. “I didn’t mean to be so forceful with you before, either.”
Rachel smiled. “It was all kinds of hot. In retrospect, I mean—in real time it was terrifying. But also hot.”
Emerson laughed. “Thanks, I think.”
“That was totally a compliment.” Rachel looked at the clock on the wall. “I should probably get back before Bernard thinks you murdered me.”
Emerson glanced at the time as well. She had to get ready for tonight’s event. “Hey, did you stake someone out to take pictures of me?”
“You mean besides the usual hyena pap horde? No. No need. You generate enough front-page news and interest that I didn’t need to.” Rachel held open the door and Emerson walked through with her.
“Yeah, the more I thought about it, the less and less I thought it was your style. But I wasn’t sure.” Emerson’s mind raced. “Thank you for walking with me.”
Rachel gave her a look. “You didn’t give me much of a choice.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you. You know that, right?”
“I do.” Rachel gave her a genuine smile. “Maybe we can be friends after all this, Em.”
Emerson walked her the rest of the way back to Bernard and gave him a wave. She hugged Rachel and stepped back. “I don’t think that’s ever going to be possible, Rachel. But I’m willing to hold up my end of the bargain if you are.”
