“You have another six months to go before you part from Jackson. And because of everything you’ve endured since you signed that contract with him, you deserve the ten million dollars Jackson is offering you. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to get in the way of that.”
“What are you saying?”
“Things between us need to remain the same.”
“No,” I said. “Austin, I need to be able to see you. I need to be with you. You have the tools to make that happen. If we continue on like this, I think I’ll go insane.”
“Listen to me,” he said. “You need your financial freedom, and because of that, neither of us can risk blowing it. We need to wait out the next six months knowing that we’ll be there for one another in the end.”
“But you can’t shut down on me again,” I said. “Please don’t start acting like I don’t exist. It hurts me when you do that. It kills me when you do that. If you go back to behaving as if I didn’t exist, I don’t think my heart will be able to take it—especially now. Especially after that kiss. And particularly since we both know how we feel about each other.”
He looked out the side window again, I followed his gaze—and this time we saw David leaving the store.
“Here comes David,” he said. “Now, listen to me. Believe in me. I’ve told you how I feel. That’s not going to change. If you love me, wait for me. Because I can promise you this: six months from now I will absolutely be waiting for you.”
Given my fake relationship with Jackson—because of which I’d seen my life completely change over the course of two months—I was old enough to know that life could change within a matter of days, let alone six months.
And because of that, if Austin and I could not enjoy any kind of intimacy for half a year—I called that a long card. He was going to shut down on me again. And so I had to wonder once again: would Austin and I ever come together? Or were we just a pair of fools to believe we could ride out this storm?
After connecting so physically and emotionally with him only moments ago, he’d just drawn another line in the sand, and it took everything I had within me not to weep as David entered the car with his wife’s dry cleaning. The moment David’s door clicked shut, Austin plunged the car into traffic and sped toward my apartment.
When they got me home safely and I took the three flights of stairs to my apartment, my tears overflowed when I sat down on the edge of my sofa. They came hard, they were gut-wrenching—and Christ, did they ever hurt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Over the following week, I had to draw upon every acting class I’d ever taken just to get through each day. My life had literally become an act, and it was exhausting to keep looking happy for the masses when all I wanted to do was stay home, shut out the world, and get my head on straight.
But there was no time for that.
As Austin receded from me once again, Jackson and I were kept busy with a slew of events throughout the week. With the exception of last Friday, when Jackson had meetings to attend, I’d been out with him every night—and not just for dinner.
On Saturday, we went to a movie premiere, which meant handling the insanity of the red carpet. On Sunday, we found ourselves at a fundraising event held by Jennifer and Alexander Wenn, who were Manhattan royalty due to their philanthropy, and the sprawling conglomerate they owned, Wenn Enterprises.
And then came Monday, when Jackson and I had to do a photo shoot with People magazine, which was doing a profile on Jackson’s life. Since I was part of his life, I’d also been interviewed and asked repeatedly about our love for each other—which nearly killed me, since I was in love with another man.
Jackson and I had posed together for a whole host of photos. When I’d asked the photographer if I could see what she’d shot, she’d graciously shown me several of her favorites, and right then and there it occurred to me that one day I might indeed win an Oscar, because these photos told the story of a couple in love.
As the days passed, it became clear to me that if I were going to be sane by the time my contract ended with Jackson, I was going to have to shut down my emotions and put my love for Austin aside. That was a tall order, but if I didn’t do as Austin was doing, I’d just continue to be a wreck. He’d made his case and his position clear, so I needed to suck it up, be stronger, and trust that he would be there for me in the end.
But none of it was easy. If anything, it was hell.
As the week progressed, Jackson and I went to another party on Tuesday, a gala on Wednesday, and then last night, a major human rights benefit. Harper had offered me up to address the crowd with a speech that would focus on equality.
Yesterday afternoon, she, Julia, and I had crafted my speech, which allowed me to address core issues I believed in. And when it was time to attend the event, I was finally allowed to be the real me. The real Sienna. The one who wasn’t lying to the world and faking it. When I took to the stage, I seized the moment to speak about sexual assault, race relations, my love for the LGBTQ community, and—most importantly—the equality that only love could bring.
After so many months of not being me, Harper’s genius was to allow me to be me—and on a global stage. She knew I needed that. She’d sensed it—and as usual, she’d come through for me.
And now, as I woke to a new day, I found myself still glowing from the event itself.
Naturally, Jackson had been in the crowd to support me and cheer me on when I hit the right notes. And in those moments when I caught glimpses of him seated in the front row, my one hope when I spoke about gay rights was that he’d feel the power of my words—and the conviction behind them—especially since I’d come to the conclusion that Jackson would never come out, which saddened me.
On the yacht, he’d said that Ash had given him a month to come out or he’d leave him. That day had passed five days ago. And while Jackson hadn’t said a word to me about whether Ash had left him or not, I had to believe that after the People interview, which had focused so much on our own relationship, that Jackson had decided to remain in the closet. Part of me understood the reasons why, particularly when it came to his career, but a larger part of me didn’t understand at all.
He’d told me that he was in love with Ash. Did his career mean so much to him that he’d never allow love into his life? The man was worth hundreds of millions of dollars, for God’s sake! How much more money or fame did he need before he grabbed hold of that love—and not the fake love we shared? For somebody who exuded such a strong presence onscreen, Jackson himself wasn’t that strong, and that disappointed me. He’d told me that he saw Ash and himself raising a family together. Building a life together. Growing old together.
But in the end, his fear of coming out had clearly gotten the best of him—which I planned to bring up later today when we had lunch together. If I could somehow manage to get through to him before Ash shut the door tightly between them—provided he already hadn’t—I would.
After washing my face, brushing my teeth, and grabbing a cup of coffee, I went to my computer and started to read the stories that had been written about last night’s event. And when I did, I was somewhat relieved. For the first time since I’d been with Jackson, these stories were about me—not us. This gave me hope that when Jackson and I did go our separate ways, I might be able to come out of this with an identity of my own.
When it was time to get ready for Austin and David to pick me to take me to Jackson, I put my computer to sleep. Today would be a quieter day. Jackson and I were only meant to have lunch at another hot spot called Le Coucou—the sound of which was not lost on me—before he returned to shoot more scenes for Annihilate Them.
When I’d finished my coffee, I chose an outfit for the day and was about to step into the shower when I heard my cell ring out in the living room.
Answer it or let it go into voice mail?
As if the latter were an option. I walked naked into the living room and saw that it was Julia calling.
“Give me a second,” I said w
hen I answered the phone. “I was just getting into the shower, and I’m naked.”
“Oh, you’re more than that, honey,” she said. “You’ve been exposed.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. “And why do you sound out of breath?”
“I don’t know—maybe because some major fucking news just broke?”
“What news?”
“Best if you see it for yourself,” she said. “Go to your computer, and bring up Google News. The story went live ten minutes ago—and because of it, it’s chaos here at the office. People might as well be walking straight into walls. And then there’s Harper and Mimi, who were blindsided by it and are now discussing God only knows what in Harper’s office.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, hurriedly retrieving my bathrobe and slipping into it.
“Sienna, just sit in front of your computer, and do as I asked.”
“But I was just online,” I protested.
“How long ago?”
“Twenty minutes ago?”
“As I said, the story broke ten minutes ago. And the universe is on fire because of it. There are so many phones ringing around me right now that I’d better start answering them. But before you left for the day, I knew I had to warn you about this. So, get to your computer, because shit is getting real in ways none of us saw coming. Especially for you—because a lot of this happens to involve you.”
“If it involves me, then why hasn’t Harper called me?”
“Oh, she’ll be calling you at some point soon, but right now she’s in crisis-management mode with Mimi.”
“Is this about the speech I gave last night?” I said as I started for my bedroom. “Did I say something wrong? Because that’s not what I read this morning. People responded well to what I had to say. Has that changed? Have I offended someone?”
“Oh, for God’s sake—just get in front of your fucking computer, Sienna!”
“I’m now sitting in front of my computer,” I said, “and I’m bringing up Google News. The page is loading. And I’m skimming…and…Oh. My. God! Jackson did it! He came out! Holy shit! It’s right there on the front page. And he did so through People magazine! He must have been planning this! And stop the presses, but who’s the hot guy on the cover with him? Is that who I think it is?”
“That would be a certain Ash Walker,” Julia said. “Otherwise known as the man Jackson has been seeing on the sly for nearly a year—a.k.a. the pilot with the pretty pout.”
“He’s so handsome,” I said. As I looked at the cover of People, my heart swelled. The headline was as straightforward as it was simple:
I’M GAY, AND I’M IN LOVE!
When I read those words, I blinked twice at them. He’d done it. My friend had finally done it!
“Have you passed out, or are you still there?” Julia asked.
“I’m still here. I’m just in shock.”
“Shock,” Julia said with a grim laugh. “You should see this place right now. CAA has officially become a zoo of zombies. Pale, blank faces parading around in Prada wherever you look. If nobody knows what the hell to do here at CAA, just imagine what’s happening to the rest of the world right now. Women are probably throwing themselves off bridges and buildings and headlong into bayous. But the gays? Oh, the gays are on fire! Because with Jackson coming out—an A-list action star stating his love for another man in a major magazine—that’s a game changer, kiddo.”
“Look at how happy Jackson looks,” I said as I gazed at the magazine’s cover. “I can’t believe this. I thought he’d never go there. I’m so happy he did.” And then it hit me. “Wait a minute,” I said. “I was interviewed by People this week with Jackson. He and I took photographs together. I gushed to the reporter in that interview about how in love we were. In some of the photographs, we were even asked to pose romantically together. Why the hell didn’t he tell me about any of this?”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ve read the entire article, and it’s clear Jackson knew exactly what he was doing, as did the reporter. My guess is that for him to give People that kind of an exclusive—which will sell millions of magazines—he reached an agreement with the editor before he told them anything.”
“What kind of an agreement?”
“Remember when Jackson took last Friday off?”
“Vaguely…”
“Well, he did. And I think he was interviewed by the magazine then. I think he offered them an exclusive if his terms were met. And those terms clearly included being fair to you, because in this article, you come off extremely well. Touching and supportive, a friend standing up for a friend who didn’t dare go public with his sexuality. In the article, Jackson says it was you who ultimately encouraged him to do it.”
“He said that?” I asked.
“He did. Jackson took care of you, cookie. And by the way, the photos of you two that were supposed to look romantic? In the story’s context, now they only look supportive. And whatever mushy, lovey-dovey stuff you had to say about Jackson, none of that’s in the interview. Which once again makes me believe that Jackson cut a deal with People before giving them the scoop. And by the way, they chose your words well. They’ve turned you into an advocate for the gay community.”
“Now I’m just going to cry,” I said, feeling my face flush. “I’m so happy for him! And you say Mimi knew nothing about this?”
“No, which is why she and Harper are in a frantic craze right now. They’re huddled in Harper’s office, trying to figure out how best to go forward. Jackson just up and did this on his own—likely because he knew Mimi would have given him pushback. Anyway, I’m calling for another reason.”
“What other reason?” I said.
“If it’s chaos here, imagine the kind of chaos that’s waiting outside your front door as we speak. Harper and Mimi want you and Jackson to be here at two. Austin will send four of his men to protect Jackson while he, David, and two of his other men will come get you. So…listen to me,” she said in a voice charged with concern. “I’m worried about you right now. If you think your life was insane even a week ago, with this story going viral—and with Twitter and Facebook exploding because of it—you will be mobbed when you leave your apartment. And it will probably be worse than ever.”
“Julia, those reporters are going to hammer me,” I said. “What am I supposed to say to them? This entire time, we’ve been lying to them—and also to the world. They’re going to be pissed that we tried to con them. What am I supposed to say to them?”
“Harper will tell you what to say when she calls you, but here’s how I see it. The paps have already read the interview, in which Jackson addresses the reasons behind his fake relationship with you. When you read the interview for yourself, you’ll see that he thanks you profusely for standing by him until he got up the courage to come out. Given the careful way he framed your relationship, I don’t see any negative publicity coming your way. If anything, I see only good things for you. The magazine has portrayed you as a gracious woman who was willing to put her career on hold so she could stand by her friend while she urged him to tell his truth to the world.”
“Is there any mention of the contract?” I asked.
“None. Jackson said that what you did for him was out of love and concern. Now, as for how you handle the paps, every photo that will be taken of you is going to tell its own story, and you have the power of owning that story.”
“How?”
“By being happy for him,” she said. “I say you leave your apartment beaming that Jackson has finally claimed who he is, that he’s told the world who he’s really in love with, and that he’s no longer afraid of being ashamed of it—or shamed for it. Those are emotions you already feel. So? Wear those emotions on your sleeve. Use them to your benefit. Don’t look shell-shocked. You need to look as if you were in the know all along. In the meantime, wait for Harper’s call. Know that I love you—and that in the end, this will turn out just fine for you.”
“Wi
ll it?” I asked.
“I think it will.”
“There are no guarantees, Julia,” I said.
“There were no guarantees when you signed that contract, Sienna.”
“True enough.”
“I’ve given you my best advice. Harper might have a completely different strategy. Take what you want from each, and do what feels right for you.”
“Thanks for calling, Julia. Your concern means the world to me.”
“What was I supposed to do, hang my best friend out to dry? Think again, lady. Now, please, try your best to get through today. Know that I’ll be there for you in spirit. I’ll be thinking about you and hoping the best for you. Whenever you can call and talk, you call me, OK? Regardless of the time.”
“OK,” I said.
“I love you, Sienna.”
“I love you too, Julia.”
When she ended the call, I literally felt the thundering weight of silence as it fell upon my shoulders.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When I got off the phone, I read the People article twice in its entirety. When I was finished, a part of me felt relieved by how sensitive and how well written it was—and also by how well Jackson had played his hand in an effort to protect me.
One thing he said in particular touched me: “Sienna graciously, bravely, and thanklessly offered to be in a fake relationship with me not only so she could buffer me from the media speculation surrounding my sexuality but also so I could have the necessary time to come to terms with how coming out would affect my career. When I told her I was also concerned that coming out might hurt my legacy, she’s the one who suggested that maybe whatever legacy I left behind was far greater than the movies I’ve made. She changed my way of thinking. She made me see that maybe I’d been put on this planet to be an example for young people struggling to come out as I have. Over these past few months, Sienna Jones has worked hard to help me see that who I am as a person is far larger than the persona people view onscreen.”
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