Faking It

by Christina Ross

  “Hell, no,” I said. “That man is a nightmare.”

  “Look,” she said with a sigh. “Jackson Cruise has never been associated with a drinking problem. As. In. Never. As far as I’m concerned, he got loaded last night because this past week finally caught up with him. From a personal perspective, I get it—you want out. But from a career perspective, you actually had the good fortune of being Jackson’s date on the very night he hit rock bottom. The press’s attention might seem negative to you, but I know how Hollywood works. And obviously, from the scripts I’ve been sent alone, they’re impressed by what they saw in you last night. Many want to work with you now. As for your concerns about being connected with Jackson, don’t worry about it, because later this morning, Mimi and I plan to get him in line. We might have had our little argument, but even she knows that she needs to get through to him before he throws away his career.”

  I looked at her over my coffee. “Harper, I don’t have a way out of this contract even if I wanted to get out of it, do I?”

  “Not technically,” she admitted. “Although if you were stupid enough to get out of it, I probably could make it happen for you—but just so you don’t forget, in the process you’d be forfeiting ten million dollars. Think about that for a minute.”

  That ten million dollars would set me free, I thought ruefully. Maybe Harper and Mimi can set Jackson straight. Maybe last night was just a one-off. Maybe it won’t happen again…

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll stay in. But you have to do something about his behavior, Harper, because that can’t happen again.”

  A knock came at the door. Harper looked at me as she rose, and as I watched her square her shoulders in the red power suit she was wearing, I saw her eyes narrow before she lifted her chin at me.

  “That will be Jackson, Mimi, and Austin,” she said to me. “Are you ready for them?”

  “Why? Have you just turned into Thor?”

  “I prefer Wonder Woman.”

  “Actually, it’s more like the Black Death, because your eyes have just gone completely dark.”

  “That’s only because you’ve never seen me go to war before—or just how much I get off on it. But you’re about to see that now, Sienna, so strap yourself in, sweetie.” She put one hand on her hip and turned smartly toward the door. “Julia?” she called out. “Send them in.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  And in they came.

  First there was Mimi, also dressed in a red power suit. She stopped cold when she saw that her former partner of eight years was also wearing one.

  “Seriously?” she said. “Really, Harper?”

  “I wore it first,” Harper said.

  “The hell you did—I was up and dealing with this fiasco at five.”

  “Ha!” Harper said. “You’re such a layabout, Mimi, you really are. I was in full makeup and hair and fielding calls at four.”

  “I call bullshit on that,” Mimi said as she glided into the room. Austin came in behind her, and I thought he looked handsome in his black suit. “Because I know you better than that.”

  “That’s the problem,” Harper said as I met Austin’s eyes and nodded at him while he discreetly rolled his own eyes at me. “You never really knew me at all, darling.”

  Why do I feel as if I’ve known him for years? I wondered as Harper and Mimi bickered. Why did I feel this strange connection with him? We’ve only known each other for two days, for God’s sake. What it is about him that continues to draw me to him? This just isn’t like me…

  “The gossip I could spread about you,” Mimi said.

  “The horror stories I could tell about you.”

  Before Mimi could retaliate, Harper looked over at the door, where there was no sign of Jackson. “Where is Jackson, Mimi?” Harper said. “Hiding somewhere? Standing on the precipice of a bridge, considering whether to end it all? Or is he just drowning his sorrows at some sordid bar in Hell’s Kitchen?”

  I saw Mimi shoot Harper down with a searing glance before she called out for Jackson to come inside. And frankly, I couldn’t blame Mimi for doing so. Jackson Cruise was likely her biggest client, and I knew for a fact that Mimi couldn’t allow Jackson to be mistreated by Harper now. Because if he didn’t feel safe here, he could fire Mimi on the spot and walk straight into another agency, one as powerful as CAA’s top competitor, ICM.

  “Sorry,” Jackson said as he entered the room wearing tight-fitting jeans, a navy-blue T-shirt, and dark aviator sunglasses, which he likely was wearing to conceal his bloodshot eyes. “I was talking with Julia.”

  “Of course you were,” Mimi said. “She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she? So bright. So positive. So filled with a promise that will likely go unfulfilled, because Harper here never promotes anyone. Instead, she just steals away people’s dreams. Anyway, how about if you close the door behind you? Then the four of us can sit down and talk about last night and strategize on how we go forward from here.”

  “The four of us?” Harper said. “Austin is here, Mimi, and he makes five. Since he witnessed a good deal of what happened last night, he also needs a seat at the table.”

  “Austin has a confidentiality contract he needs to honor with my client,” Mimi said. “Sorry, toots. Naturally, Austin is welcome to stay because we adore him. But it’ll just be the four of us discussing last night.”

  “Then sit on that sofa,” Harper said, pointing to the one at her right. It faced the sofa opposite it. “This time, I’ll sit with my client alone on the other sofa, Mimi.”

  “As you should. Jackson?” she said. “Come here, love. Sit next to Mimi.”

  As I stood and looked over at Jackson, intending to say good morning to him, he behaved as if I wasn’t even there. In fact, after I smiled at him, he chose not to acknowledge me at all, which infuriated me.

  At the very least, you could be polite, Jackson, I thought as I glared at him. Especially after I saved your ass last night.

  “So,” Harper said when I’d sat down next to her and crossed my legs. “Last night certainly caused a stir, didn’t it?”

  “Jackson was polluted by sour shellfish,” Mimi said. “I mean, Sienna herself called it out for what it was. We’ve all seen the videos by now. He was poisoned by Per Se!”

  Seriously, I thought. She’s going to continue to deny what happened last night? Not with me in this room, she wasn’t.

  “That’s not true,” I said.

  “Well, of course it’s true,” Mimi said.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t. Despite my best efforts to keep Jackson from getting drunk last night, he drank three bourbons in a row before I made him hand over his fourth to me. And only moments after I took that one away from him, he reached for it and downed it. He got shitfaced last night.”

  I was expecting a reaction from Jackson when I said that, but he didn’t give me one. Instead, he just started to rub his left temple in deep, slow circles, likely in an effort to ease his headache.

  “But, Sienna…” Mimi tittered.

  “Mimi,” Jackson warned in a low voice.

  “No, no, it’s fine, Jackson,” she said as she patted his knee. “As you know, it’s all on video. You weren’t drunk last night—Sienna said so herself in the videos that are circulating right now. She said that you were having a reaction to the oyster you’d just eaten. It’s on record.”

  “I only said that as a favor to Jackson,” I said.

  “As a favor to Jackson?” Mimi said in a weirdly high-pitched voice. “As a favor to Jackson Cruise, who needs no favors from anyone, least of all from the likes of you? I mean, let’s get real here, cookie. A small win at Cannes doesn’t put you at his level. If anything, he’s the one doing you a favor given all the free press you’ve received after last night’s little misunderstanding.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I can only imagine how well you’re benefiting from that kind of coverage.”

  “Sienna thought fast on her feet and helped Jackson,” Harper said. “Both you and Jackson should be gr
ateful for it.”

  “Grateful?” Mimi said. “Oh, Harper, please. The only person who should be grateful in this room is Sienna, not Jackson.”

  “Stop it!” Jackson said. “Cut the bullshit, Mimi. I have a movie to shoot in a few hours, and I don’t want to deal with this crap right now.”

  When he said that, he removed his sunglasses, and I saw just how red and fatigued his eyes looked. Then he finally looked at me.

  “Sienna, I apologize. Mimi is just trying to protect me. It’s in her nature to do so, and while she means well, I’m not going to let her rewrite history just so I can save face. Especially since everyone in this room already knows the truth of what went down last night.”

  He glanced over at Austin, who was standing at the tall windows that overlooked the city.

  “On the drive over here, Austin and I talked, and I agree with him,” Jackson said. “I owe you an apology, Sienna. I’m sorry. But after the press questioned whether you were my fucking beard—which they did—it upset me, because I worried that’s how they were going to start to spin our story. I didn’t handle it well, and I started to drink heavily. I want to thank you for trying to protect me and for being quick enough to blame my behavior on the shellfish. I owe you for that. You and Austin did your best to handle me last night. I got plastered, each of you took care of me, and the ramifications are my own.”

  “I appreciate the apology, Jackson,” I said to him. “But before we arrived at Per Se last night, you must have known the paps were going to get into the gutter when it came to you, especially since that was your first official appearance after those unwanted photos of you went viral. You’re a professional. You should have prepared yourself for that. Why didn’t you?”

  “Listen to how she talks to him,” Mimi said. “Listen to how she judges him! It’s as if she believes she’s in a position to even do so!”

  “Actually, she is,” Harper said. “Sienna has her own career to consider, Mimi. Going forward, she has every right to know whether this will happen again.”

  “It won’t,” Jackson said as he turned to face me. “But I get it, Sienna. If you want out of the contract, you’ll get no argument from me, and there will be no hard feelings. Mimi can always find somebody else for me. You can keep the money I’ve already given you, and that will be that.”

  Harper looked at Jackson and spoke to him in a quiet voice. “Jackson, Sienna has no plans to contest your contract.”

  He looked at her in surprise.

  “She doesn’t?”

  “She doesn’t. Despite last night, she’s agreed to continue to give this her best shot, because she does want to help you, for reasons that are personal to her. As you know, she’s worked as a model for years. And because of that, many of her friends are gay. She hates how you’ve been smeared by the press. She wants to help you. But we also want to make sure this won’t happen again. Can you promise her that?”

  At that, he looked me straight in the eyes and said, “I can. I’m sorry that it happened at all. It won’t happen again.”

  He’s telling the truth, I thought as I looked him. I can hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes…

  “Then, that’s enough for me,” I said. “I’ll continue to support you, Jackson. Hopefully last night was nothing more than an unfortunate blip. And as much as I wish it hadn’t happened, I do get it, Jackson. I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under right now. But if we are to going to try to convince the world that we’re falling in love, you and I need to work together to make that happen. Deal?”

  “Deal,” he said as he stood. “Now, give me a hug, because I really am sorry, Sienna.”

  When he took me into his arms, I felt his vulnerability pulse through me. I knew he didn’t want to share that with anyone in this room, and that made my heart go out to him. Was he capable of pulling himself together? Hopefully he was, because he was a good actor. If he was willing and emotionally able to see this through to the end, I felt we could ride this out.

  But still…

  “No more drinking,” I said in his ear.

  “No more drinking.”

  “Because we need to turn this around for you, right?”

  “We do.”

  “Then let’s start over again. Let’s make the world believe that you and I are perfect for one another, and hopefully in eight months’ time, when we’ve amicably parted ways, I hope that any speculation about your sexuality will be behind you and that both of us can move forward with our lives.”

  “I hope for the same,” he said.

  When we parted, I caught sight of Austin, who was looking intently at me with eyes that were so dark they burned into me.

  And unnerved me.

  “Austin,” Harper said. “Do you have the number to Sienna’s cell?”

  “Actually, I don’t,” he said.

  “Then you need to have it.”

  “Why?” Mimi asked. “Austin works for Jackson.”

  “And also for Sienna, which is in the contract. If Sienna sees anything out of line when it comes to Jackson that might give her concern, she’s going to need to reach out to Austin so we can get ahead of things quickly.”

  “But Sienna can simply reach out to me,” Mimi said.

  “What if you’re with another client?” Harper asked. “Or what if you’re in a meeting? Austin is always with Jackson. He’s the more logical person for her to call or to text if there’s another slip.”

  “Exchange numbers,” Jackson said.

  “Jackson, I’ll always be there for you,” Mimi said.

  “I understand that, Mimi, but Harper has a point.” He looked from Austin to me and back again. “Exchange numbers.”

  We did. And when we did, it didn’t escape me that Austin Black now had total access to me in ways he’d never had before.

  CHAPTER NINE

  New York City

  July

  The next three weeks were a whirlwind of events that were so carefully timed and choreographed that they took me out of my body and vaulted me into full-on stardom—which looked very different to me now than the day I’d first agreed to sign that contract with Jackson.

  With Harper, Mimi, and Austin working alongside Jackson and me, it took us a full week to get beyond the questions surrounding the videos captured at Per Se—and the questions swirling around Jackson’s sexuality—and before noise around each started to settle down and abate.

  With Harper and Mimi working the phones to tip off the paparazzi when Jackson would end filming for the day and spend time with me, we were literally photographed all over the city.

  As video cameras rolled and cameras flashed, we were “caught” shopping on Fifth, we were photographed holding hands, looking as if we were falling in love as we strolled through Central Park, and we enjoyed our first public kiss on a sidewalk in the East Village. All of it was designed to provide content for the gossip rags, social media outlets, and thousands of entertainment sites all over the world so the masses could dissect our relationship—and discuss it.

  And they did, with a fervor that surprised me. A large part of me was still that girl from Dubuque, Iowa, who had once longed for this kind of life and who couldn’t believe she was now living it.

  I now understood the full weight of Jackson’s international star power. I now had an idea of the kind of microscope he’d been living under for the past thirteen years, ever since his first movie had launched him into the stratosphere. Since public interest in our budding relationship was riding high, entertainment reporters were unrelenting in their coverage of us. Each day, they published fresh stories about Jackson and me to a public insatiable for more.

  For me, fashion became a critical part of my life, because everything I wore was quickly sensationalized and scrutinized.

  The press chronicled all of it, and since noting every detail of how I presented myself to the world rapidly became a “thing,” it drove Harper and me to several discreet shopping sprees at Bergdorf’s, Prada, Dior,
and a host of other elite outlets in the city to ensure that I looked my best.

  My fake relationship with Jackson was heating up to the point that now, when I sat in front of my iMac each morning to read the online entertainment feeds, I saw that people were questioning when Jackson and I would get married, which seemed absurd to me. We’d only been “seeing” each other for less than a month, and already there was speculation about a wedding. But isn’t that what people like JLo, Rihanna, and Drake went through whenever they started to see someone new? It was—and I needed to get used to it.

  Due to my association with Jackson, single women in particular were fixated on me, and for one reason alone. Tracking showed that they thought if a nobody like me could land one of the world’s biggest stars, then at very least there was hope they could find love—but how? Should they wear their hair the way I wore my hair? Should they max out their credit cards and buy the same pair of jeans I was just photographed wearing? Since Sienna Jones loved to wear a bold red lip, should they wear one themselves?

  Jackson and I weren’t just selling ourselves to the world. It soon dawned on me that we were also selling hope to millions of women around the world who wanted to snag a man as hot as he was. And maybe some of them would—but even if they didn’t, at the very least, most would come away with a few fashion tips by the time Jackson and I went our separate ways.

  And I was OK with that.

  Harper and I were also aware of another truth. Due to all the press coverage, my career was exploding.

  Already I was scheduled to shoot three movies over the next two years, the first with Martin Scorsese himself. Beyond that, Tarantino had passed on me, but Spielberg hadn’t. Next year I’d star in a World War I drama with him. And in the same year, I’d work with Christopher Nolan in one of the twisty, mind-bending thrillers for which he was known.

  Throughout this stunt of ours, there were times I’d felt on top of the world, particularly since the acting career I’d always longed for was actually taking shape. But there were other times when I was frightened by the fame, particularly as I watched my private life erode. When Austin drove me home at night after a day of being photographed with Jackson, sometimes I thought I’d never felt more isolated or alone despite how alive, happy, and in love I looked to the world at large.