Faking It

by Christina Ross

  “I’m glad you’re here, Sienna,” he said to me. “I’m glad you’re beginning to realize your dreams. Because they don’t come easily, do they?”

  “No,” I said. “They don’t.”

  “Did you eat anything at Per Se tonight?” he asked. “Beyond the oyster?”

  “Unfortunately, no. We’d just been served our second course when Jackson upended the table.”

  “It’s only ten thirty,” he said. “Are you hungry? Because I have a favorite diner I go to downtown, and I haven’t had dinner myself tonight. If you’d like to join me, we could get something to eat.”

  And there it was in front of me—one seriously dangerous proposition—and one that I couldn’t take lightly.

  “We could have a burger,” he said. “Some fries. What do you say?”

  “That I can’t do it,” I said.

  He glanced at me in the rearview mirror and furrowed his brow.

  “Why?”

  Because of the way you put my shoes on me earlier tonight, Austin. And because of how my body responded to you when you held my feet in your hands. And because I’m beyond attracted to you. No good can come from this—at least for now. I’m owned by Jackson for the next eight months…

  “I signed an agreement to be exclusive to Jackson,” I said, wishing in view of tonight’s fiasco that I hadn’t. “As you know, the contract states that when it comes to men, I can only ever be seen out in public with him until the contract has run its course. I need to honor that. I hope you understand.”

  “I understand,” he said.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, Austin. It’s that I can’t.”

  “No, I get it,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be disappointed. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone as interesting as you, Sienna. You’re smart, you’re quick on your feet, and you walked over coals tonight for Jackson as if the heat barely touched you. I’d like to get to know you better, but if I have to wait…” He paused for a moment and shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll have to wait.”

  “If this city had a drive-thru restaurant and we could park somewhere, I probably could get away with that,” I said.

  He hesitated before he said, “I think it’s best if I get you home.”

  “How about this?” I said. “If you still find me interesting eight months from now, how about if we have a burger and fries then? Or maybe sooner if I can somehow get out of this contract tomorrow. Trust me, after what happened tonight, I’m going to try to.”

  When I said that, he looked over his shoulder at me. “Consider it a date,” he said. “Just let me know when and where, and trust me on this—I’ll be there.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  At five-thirty the next morning, my cell rang on my bedside table. With a sense of dread, I looked over at my phone to see who was calling, even though I already knew it would be Harper Carmichael.

  And it was.

  “Hi, Harper,” I said meekly.

  Please don’t filet me right now. I haven’t had my coffee yet.

  “And hello, Jesus!” she said when I answered the phone. “Are you awake? Because I really need you to be awake for this.”

  Why did she sound so excited? Ever since I’d gone to bed, I’d been expecting her to rant at me when she read the news and decided to call.

  “I’m awake,” I said, “but not exactly rested, because for the life of me, I couldn’t get to sleep last—”

  “Stop!” she said. “Just listen to me.”

  “Listen to what?” I said.

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “Actually, I’m lying flat on my back.”

  “Even better.”

  “Why are you so worked up?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, Sienna—maybe because you’re trending on Twitter?”

  “I’m trending on what?”

  “Twitter!” she said.

  I sat up in bed, propped a few pillows behind my back, and ran a hand through my hair as I tried to shake off the remnants of what little sleep I’d gotten. “After last night, I can’t imagine that’s a good thing.”

  “Parts of it are good, parts of it are pure shit—but apparently that old adage remains true to this day.”

  “What old adage?”

  “Unless you’re involved in something truly awful—which you weren’t last night, despite how horrible the optics look—there’s no such thing as bad press when it comes to this business, as you’ll soon find out. I need you in my office at eight. We have to talk.”

  “At eight?” I said. “Why the rush?”

  “Seriously, Sienna? That’s your question after your evening of abject ruin and humiliation with Jackson last night?”

  When she said that, I closed my eyes and felt my stomach sink. “I tried to stop him from drinking, Harper, but he wouldn’t stop. He just kept throwing back one drink after the other. I did my best, but he shut me down at every turn.”

  “I know the story. Austin relayed it to Mimi. And Mimi just relayed it to me. That sorry little heathen even tried to blame you for what happened.”

  “She tried to blame me?” I said, enraged. “How? Why? What the hell did I do? I only tried to stop him, for God’s sake!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “ I’ve already taken her down to her pitted knees. Things got heated between us, as they generally do because of our toxic past, but in the end, I won—as I always do when it comes to her. She’ll never be as quick as I am, Sienna. Or as smart. After I let her have it, Mimi reluctantly agreed that what happened last night is in fact on Jackson and not on you.”

  “Last night was a nightmare, Harper.”

  “I’ve seen the videos,” she said. “I can only imagine how difficult last night was for you. But you? You handled yourself beautifully. And brava for that, my darling girl, because Jackson put you in a tough spot.”

  “The videos,” I said with a groan. “People were using their cell phones to video us last night. So, let me guess—one or more of those videos are circling now, right? Which is the reason I’m trending on Twitter.”

  “As I speak, five videos have been published,” she said. “All from different viewpoints. And there will likely be more to come. And yes, all of them have gone viral. Your first date with Jackson Cruise has turned out to be one for the record books, especially since Jackson toppled over that goddamned table. And at Per Se, of all places! But tell me this, because I need all the fire I can bring to the table when Mimi lands in my office later this morning.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Despite what you said when Jackson went down, he didn’t fall over because of food poisoning, did he?”

  “No,” I said. “I already told you—he got wasted last night. And believe me when I say that I tried my best to stop him. But there was no stopping him, because apparently Jackson Cruise does whatever the hell he wants.”

  “Trust me, darling, I get it. A-list stars can be one major A-list pain in the ass.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  “Sienna, your American horror story has been caught on tape, so of course I believe you. And I’m angry that Jackson would even allow himself to go there given how important last night was to him. By doing so, he’s cast yet another cloud of negativity around himself, which is terrible when it comes to his career and his image. I can only imagine how furious you are with him.”

  “On one level I am, but on another, I’m not.”

  “How can that be?”

  “Jackson opened up to me last night,” I said. “He comes from a broken family. With each drink he tossed back, he told me things about his parents and his past that were heartbreaking. He hasn’t had an easy life, particularly when it comes to his ridiculous family. But despite that, Harper, if Jackson has issues with alcohol, I don’t think it’s best for me to be associated with him, because if this is what the next eight months look like for me, I want no part of it. Am I able to get out of this contract?”

/>   “I don’t think you should, Sienna.”

  “But I do.”

  “Look, just be here at eight,” she said. “Things are happening that you know nothing about.”

  “What things?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

  “Is Austin picking me up?”

  “No,” she said. “He’s taking care of Jackson this morning, who apparently has the mother of all hangovers. Just pull yourself together, get some coffee in you, and take a cab—and don’t you dare be late!”

  * * *

  By the time I arrived at Harper’s office, I’d read the news and seen the videos TMZ and countless other outlets were circulating online, and I was infuriated that I’d been put in this position, especially since my name was now being prominently associated with Jackson’s.

  For him, the headlines were demeaning.

  From TMZ:

  IS JACKSON CRUISE CRUISING TOWARD REHAB?

  From Page Six:

  SOMETHING’S FISHY WITH JACKSON CRUISE—

  AND IT’S NOT THE OYSTERS AT PER SE

  From the Times:

  AN ACTION STAR’S STEEP, SUDDEN FALL

  And then there were the ones that mentioned me.

  From the Los Angeles Times:

  AFTER WINNING THE PALME D’OR,

  WILL HOLLYWOOD SHOW SIENNA JONES THE DOOR?

  From Variety:

  HOW WILL JACKSONGATE

  AFFECT SIENNA JONES’S CHANCES OF WINNING AN OSCAR?

  And finally, from the Hollywood Reporter:

  JACKSON CRUISE AND SIENNA JONES—

  WHO WILL SURVIVE THE FALLOUT?

  According to the article, it wasn’t me.

  When I rounded the corner and came upon Harper’s assistant and my best friend, Julia Jacobs, she looked up at me with those wide, beautiful green eyes of hers—and what I saw in them was enough to stop me in my tracks. Unfortunately for me, those eyes were wider than usual, because they sent a clear message to me: Girl, you are fucked.

  “Hi, Julia,” I said.

  “How are you holding up, sweetie?”

  I’d known Julia ever since I’d first signed with Harper. She and I were the same age, and we’d become fast friends—and for good reason. She was smart and wickedly funny, and she loved fashion as much as I did. To me, she was this tall, stunning, ultrachic blond goddess of a woman. I adored her.

  “I’m doing my best,” I said. “You’ve seen the videos?”

  She nodded grimly at me. “Handling him last night couldn’t have been easy,” she said.

  “It was horrible.”

  “I can only imagine. What do you need from me?”

  “Can I call you later?” I asked. “Depending on how today goes, you might need to talk me off the edge.”

  “I can do that,” she said. “I’ll always be here for you…just as you’ve always been there for me.”

  “I appreciate that, Julia.”

  “It’s what best friends do,” she said.

  I looked over at Harper’s closed door.

  “Is Harper ready for me?” I asked.

  “Let’s just say she’s ready for you and Mimi.”

  “This is going to be a shit show, isn’t it?”

  “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t,” she said with a sigh as she stood up. “But with Harper on your side, you’ll weather through this, Sienna. Right now, you need to trust in her more than you ever have—because as long as I’ve known her, Harper’s instincts have rarely been proved wrong.”

  “I’ll do that,” I said.

  “Good,” she said as she came around her desk in a gorgeous, bright-yellow dress that hugged close to her ridiculous curves. “Now, let’s get you inside. Can I get you some coffee?”

  “I’d love a cup, Julia.”

  “Consider it done,” she said, giving me a hug. I hugged her back with everything I had within in me.

  “Sienna, you’re going to be fine,” she said.

  “But how do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve seen this happen before,” she said, “with penty of other actors. Just listen to what Harper has to say to you—and go with everything she recommends.”

  “All right.”

  She opened Harper’s door for me, and I saw Harper inside, pacing in front of her wall of windows before she stopped and turned to me.

  “I’ll be back with your coffee in a minute,” Julia said.

  And as I stepped inside at the very moment Harper’s eyes met mine, hearing the door click solidly shut behind me.

  * * *

  “Nice dress,” Harper said as I stepped farther into the room. “And look at you, wearing black in the middle of June. Whose funeral are you attending?”

  “My own?”

  “Please.” She motioned toward her desk, and I sat opposite her. “Tell me your version of what happened last night,” she said. “All of it.”

  I told her everything.

  “And Austin can substantiate the latter half of your evening with Jackson should I need to bring him in on this?”

  “He could,” I said. “But since he works for Jackson, and his job would be on the line if he ratted him out, we need to consider that he might choose not to do so. He’s protective of Jackson. They’re friends.”

  “Actually, I disagree about how he’d approach this, because I know Austin is an honorable man. If we have to, we’ll bring him into the conversation. But since you brought up the whole working-for-Jackson thing, here’s what you need to know about Austin Black, Sienna. He’s so good at what he does that he’s literally sought after by dozens of celebrities—many of whom would kill to have him working their security detail. It isn’t he who needs Jackson. It’s the other way around, because Austin is that well regarded—for the very reasons you witnessed last night.”

  In more ways than one, I thought when I recalled his massaging my feet before he helped me into my shoes.

  At that moment, a knock came at the door.

  “Yes, Julia?”

  “Coffee for Sienna,” she said as she entered the room.

  “Thank you, Julia,” I said as she handed me a steaming white mug.

  “Anything for you, doll.”

  When she left, I turned to Harper.

  “I’m being smeared by the press for somebody else’s actions. I need to know whether I can get out of this contract. Because if I can, I want to be out of it today.”

  “Not so fast,” she said. “Here’s what I wanted to tell you to your face. Ever since you and Jackson started dominating the entertainment cycle this morning, my phone and my e-mail have been blowing up. Five top directors have already sent in scripts for your consideration. And I have a feeling that if I went over to check my e-mail now, there’d be more.”

  “But how can that be?” I asked in wonderment. “Last night was a total disaster for me!”

  “Maybe when it comes to the masses, yes, but soon they’ll just be hooked on another story. But when it comes to this business? Not so fast, darling. In an impossible situation, you showed the suits of Hollywood that you can handle yourself with poise. And in that situation, you proved to everyone that you are quick on your feet.”

  “Then, why is Variety questioning my chances of receiving an Oscar nod?”

  “Ha!” she said. “Consider that headline nothing more than clickbait, because even Variety needs to come up with salacious headlines to get traffic to its site. But to answer your question about why people are sending you scripts—it’s simple: you’re attached to Jackson Cruise. Regardless of the ass he made of himself last night—and the scrutiny surrounding his sexuality—he nevertheless remains a major A-list actor, Sienna. And then there are the videos. In one, you fiercely confronted the paps and insisted that you were no one’s beard. Whether you know it or not, that was a brilliant move on your part, because you answered a direct question about Jackson’s sexuality—and you were so angry and believable in that moment that you literally owned it. In the seco
nd video, you were just as believable when you questioned aloud whether Jackson had food poisoning. It’s because of how you handled yourself in those two videos that you are on everyone’s radar right now, especially after your recent win at Cannes. My bet is that everyone who matters in Hollywood is now acutely aware of that win and that they don’t give a damn about your relationship to a troubled action star.”

  “Then, prove it,” I said. “If you think other scripts are waiting for me, check your e-mail now.”

  “Sienna, I just checked it ten minutes before you stepped in.”

  I glanced down at my watch. “And we’ve been talking for twenty minutes. Check it, Harper. If any other people have reached out to you concerning me, I want to know.”

  “Well, you’re certainly bossy this morning.”

  “I don’t mean to be. It’s just that after seeing those videos and reading the stories that accompanied them—not to mention some of the headlines, which called me out by name—I’m feeling really vulnerable right now.”

  “To be expected,” she said as she leaned toward her computer. And when she started to click her mouse and read e-mails I couldn’t see, a slow smile began to spread across her face.

  “Oh, my,” she said with a sense of excitement in her voice. “Spielberg,” she said. “And Tarantino, who hasn’t made a film in years. And one of the greatest directors of all time—Scorsese. All are reaching out to me because of their interest in you.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I said.

  “Would you like to look at my screen?”

  “Seriously?” I said to her. “Spielberg? Scorsese?”

  “And Tarantino.” Her eyes brightened when she looked at me. “Despite what happened last night, you’re not only trending on Twitter, darling, you’re also trending with the titans of Hollywood. All this comes down to your ties to Jackson and how well you handled yourself in the videos that are now circulating. By the end of the day, I see several offers coming your way. Hell, I see you booked to do movies for the next several years. So, what I need to ask you is simple—do you still want to be attached to Jackson Cruise?”