by S. H. Kolee
I escaped without having to make pleasantries with any co-workers, relieved when I was able to catch a cab as soon as I exited the building. The relief disappeared when the cab arrived in front of my apartment building and I saw a cluster of paparazzi waiting by the door. They immediately caught sight of me and ran towards the cab, wielding their cameras in front of them like weapons.
"Emma, how long have you been dating Jackson Reynard?"
"Do you know Candace Stile? How do you feel about stealing Jackson from her?"
"Is it true Jackson was planning on proposing to Candace and you put a stop to it?"
"Emma, how do you feel about being called a home wrecker?"
"Are you dating Jackson for his money?"
Their shouts were clearly audible through the window of the cab. The driver rolled down his window, yelling expletives and telling them what they could do with their cameras. He turned around to look at me after he had rolled his window back up.
"Do you want me to drop you off somewhere else?" I was grateful that at least my cab driver didn't seem interested in the personal details of my life.
"No, I have to go home eventually. But thanks."
After I paid the cab driver, I opened the car door, trying to use it to push the photographers back. I felt a hand grab my arm and I looked up, seeing Harry's grim face. He used himself as a shield, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around my head, pushing the paparazzi away with his body until we got into the building.
"Don't even think about trespassing in here or I'll call the cops!" he yelled out, ushering me deeper into the lobby. They heeded his warning but continued snapping pictures as they pressed against the glass wall of the building like rabid animals.
Harry pressed the button for the elevator, standing between me and the front of the lobby, shielding me from the cameras.
"Are you okay, Emma?"
I was still in a state of shock at how persistent they had been. They didn't seem to care about anything except getting their shot, pushing into me painfully and shoving their cameras into my face. I couldn't believe that people could behave in such a disgusting manner.
"I am now. Thanks so much for getting me through that, Harry." My voice was strained as I tried to come to terms with being a hunted commodity.
Harry gently guided me into the elevator when the doors opened. "Don't worry, I won't let anybody get through. Give me a call if you need anything."
I thanked Harry again, grateful when the elevators doors closed, whisking me away from prying eyes. Now that it was public knowledge where I lived, I didn't know where I could go to escape.
I felt numb as I went through the motions of changing out of my work clothes and heating up a frozen dinner. I tried to eat my chicken parmigiana that tasted like cardboard until I couldn't take it anymore, pushing it aside and grabbing my laptop. I scrolled through stories about Jackson and Candace, about me and Jackson, about how I had seduced Jackson as a calculated move, wanting to break into the acting industry. Some of the stories were outright crazy, claiming that I had pretended to be a maid in a hotel that Jackson was staying at so I could sneak into his room and offer my naked body to him.
The posts from random people in response to the articles were just as painful. They were ugly and judgmental. Post after post discussed how unbelievable it was that Jackson could leave someone as gorgeous as Candace Stile for a plain little nobody like me, how I was a gold-digger looking for my ticket to a life of luxury.
I slammed my laptop closed, tears streaming down my face. I was being publicly flogged for something I didn't do. Jackson told me he had never dated Candace and he hadn't cheated on her with me. I didn't want to think about whether I would have still slept with Jackson even if they had been in a relationship. I didn't want to know the answer.
I turned my cell phone off even though I had already turned off the ringer, sick of the light constantly flashing indicating an incoming call. I turned on the television, hoping to distract myself. I was flipping through the channels when I saw an entertainment news show announcing an exclusive interview with Candace Stile about her relationship with Jackson Reynard in the upcoming segment.
I stayed on the channel, needing to hear what Candace herself would say. Maybe she would admit to never having been involved with Jackson. It was naive but I was desperate for a way out of this.
I was tense as I waited for the commercials to end and then watched with bated breath as the show ran a summary of the alleged accusations of infidelity, complete with pictures of Jackson and me staring into each other's eyes. Finally, the host of the show sat across from Candace, who managed to look breathtakingly gorgeous while looking utterly despondent.
"Candace, thank you so much for talking with me today. I know it's been a rough time for you with the news about you and Jackson breaking today."
Candace put on a brave smile, her voice trembling a little. "Thanks for having me, Robin. I can't lie, it's been really hard. But I decided that hiding wasn't the right decision. I didn't do anything wrong and I want to let women out there know that they shouldn't be ashamed if they get cheated on. It isn't their fault."
The host nodded approvingly. "That's very admirable of you, Candace. Can you tell me what happened between you and Jackson?"
"We've been dating for a year, although I know news of our relationship just recently came out. We were trying to keep it quiet so that we could have some privacy. Even though we're in the public eye, we wanted to keep it to ourselves. I wanted to protect my love for Jackson from prying eyes."
I felt like throwing up as I watched the host nod understandingly. I had to give it to Candace, she was an amazing actress. She looked vulnerable and utterly defenseless as she told her story.
"When did you find out that Jackson was unfaithful?"
Candace teared up, biting her lip as she struggled to answer the question. "Same as everyone else. I saw pictures of Jackson with another woman online."
"Have you spoken to Jackson since then?"
"Yes, I called him right after I saw the pictures. I was hoping it was all a misunderstanding, and that the pictures were innocent. But Jackson told me that he no longer wanted to be with me. That it was over."
The host handed Candace a tissue, and she blotted at her eyes although I noticed that no tears actually fell.
"So you and Jackson were still together up until today? There had been some rumors that you two had already broken up."
Candace shook her head, looking crestfallen. "Those were just rumors. Up until today, I thought we were still in love."
"What do you know about the woman that Jackson cheated on you with? Our sources tell us that her name is Emma Mills and she works for an ad agency in New York."
"That's about as much as I know," Candace replied glumly. "I don't know her. I've never met her. I don't ever want to meet her. I just want to move on with my life."
I sat in stunned silence as Candace used her last statement as a segue to talk about her single coming out. I wanted to reach inside the television and scratch her eyes out. I didn't understand how she could lie so easily and destroy someone's reputation all for the sake of her own success. She was already rich and famous, but she was greedy for more.
I turned on my phone, ignoring all the voicemails, and called Jackson. He picked up on the first ring.
"Did you see it?" he asked grimly, not bothering to greet me.
"I saw it. I want to find Candace Stile and rip her hair out."
Jackson chuckled despite the circumstances. "I don't blame you. If it makes you feel any better, most of it is hair extensions."
I couldn't suppress a small smile at Jackson's revelation, finding humor in it, despite my world crumbling around me.
"Do you really think it's necessary to come up with an elaborate lie to diffuse the situation? Can't we just see if it fades on its own?"
"This is just the beginning, Emma. Marcie believes that they have a whirlwind of press planned. This could get mu
ch uglier before it's over. Having the public turn on you can get pretty nasty. Unfortunately, I've seen it happen way too many times. I'm not worried about me. People tend to forgive celebrities way too easily and I really don't give a shit what they say. But you're going to suffer the brunt of their censure."
"Can't we just say it's all a lie?" I cried. "How can she get away with this?"
"It's all about the illusion," Jackson said bitterly. "People don't care about the truth. They just want a good story and they'll run with it. It doesn't matter if it's a lie, as long as people believe it."
I felt beaten down, unsure how to fight this amorphous enemy that I didn't understand. I was unequipped to deal with this type of situation, so I decided to leave it in the hands of the professionals.
"Okay, let's do whatever we have to do to make this die down."
"I knew you would make the right decision," Jackson said approvingly. "You don't have to do anything yet. Marcie is booking some interviews for me so that I can tell my side of the story. I have my first one tomorrow. In the meantime, don't say anything to anyone, especially the press."
"Don't worry, the last thing I want to do is deal with the press. It's bad enough having them hover around my apartment."
"I didn't think they had discovered where you lived yet." Jackson's voice was hard and flat. "Those bastards are like the plague. I wish I could come over, but that has to wait until after my interview. I'll send someone over."
"No, it's okay Jackson. My doorman got me through the crowd of paparazzi, even though they were like rabid animals frothing at the mouth for a comment. I thought you said they were tamer in New York."
"Not when they have a juicy story. And unfortunately, this story is like prime rib to them." Jackson's voice got quieter. "I can't tell you how sorry I am about all this. But I'll fix it, I promise. I won't let you get hurt."
"It's not your fault," I murmured.
"It is my fault. I was too careless." Jackson sighed before continuing. "I'll contact you tomorrow to let you know what the next steps are."
After I ended the call with Jackson, I forced myself to scroll through all my messages, deleting most of them without listening to them. I had repeated missed calls from my mother and Trisha, and I reluctantly called them back, reassuring them that I was okay but refusing to give details about what was happening.
I was dreading work the next day and I contemplated calling in sick, but I decided I wasn't going to let myself be bullied into hiding. I tried to prepare myself for whatever was waiting for me outside my apartment building as I rode the elevator down, grateful that I at least had a doorman who was willing to run interference.
"Emma!" Harry exclaimed when he saw me exit the elevator. "How are you feeling?"
"I've had better days but I'll survive," I replied, smiling at Harry's concerned expression.
"Well, it was smart of you to hire a bodyguard. I think he's going to be a lot more effective at driving away those scumbags than I was. His arms are the size of my thighs!"
"A bodyguard?" I wrinkled my brow in confusion. "I didn't hire a bodyguard."
"Then who's that?" Harry pointed to a mountain of a man that was standing in the front of the lobby, right by the doors. He was well over six feet with muscles that looked like they were carved out of stone. He was an intimidating figure in a tight black t-shirt and black pants.
He stepped forward when he saw us watching him, holding out a hand. "Ms. Mills, I'm Craig. I'm here to make sure you get to work safely."
I shook his hand, my hand disappearing in his huge grasp. "I'm sorry, Craig, but I'm a little confused. I didn't hire anyone to escort me to work."
"Mr. Reynard told me to wait for you this morning. I'm supposed to escort you to work and anywhere else you need to go."
I couldn't suppress the surge of warmth that flooded my body when I realized that Jackson had sent someone to protect me, even though I had refused his offer last night. I decided to accept it since I didn't know what I was about to face.
I turned out to be extremely grateful for Craig. He shielded me from the bodies trying to push into me as we left my building, but I could still hear the questions that they yelled at me. They were much harsher than yesterday with a sickening virulence. I felt as if I were being stoned with words.
Craig ushered me into a black Mercedes SUV with tinted back windows that looked like it should be off-roading in a safari, not navigating the streets of New York. Craig slid into the driver's seat after making sure I was safely ensconced in the backseat, driving away so quickly the tires squealed. I saw him glance at me in the rearview mirror.
"Are you okay, Ms. Mills?"
I gave him a weak smile, not wanting to show how rattled I was. "Yes, although I'm wondering why anyone would want to be famous. I never realized how happy I was being a nobody."
We drove the rest of the way to work in silence as I prayed that there would be no press waiting for me outside my office. I was relieved when I saw that no one was milling around the front of my office building, but I still had to convince Craig that he didn't need to escort me inside.
"But Mr. Reynard said-"
"Craig, I'm grateful for your help, but you can see that there's nobody around. I just want everything to remain as normal as possible."
Craig relented when he saw that I wasn't going to be swayed, but he told me that he would be waiting for me outside after he made sure I programmed his number into my cell phone.
I tried to ignore all the stares as I took the elevator to my floor and made my way to my office. I could hear murmurings as I passed by, but I refused to pay attention to them. Marie jumped up when she saw me, looking harried and stressed out.
"Emma, the phone has been ringing non-stop. Every gossip rag seems to want a comment from you. I even got calls from a few legitimate news outlets. What should I do?"
"Just tell them all I have no comment." I couldn't believe how quickly my life had been turned upside down.
"Mr. Carver wants to see you as soon as possible."
I swallowed, a shaft of fear shooting through me. Larry Carver was my direct boss and vice president of account services. I rarely interacted with him and I had no doubt that he was requesting my presence to discuss the situation with Jackson.
I made my way to Larry's office after I dropped my things off in mine, trepidation growing with each step.
"Hi, Sandy," I greeted Larry Carver's assistant. "Marie told me Larry wanted to see me as soon as possible."
Sandy, an older woman with hair as black as night, nodded at me and picked up the phone. "Mr. Carver, Emma Mills is here to see you."
Sandy waved me into the office and I entered, trying to tamp down my nerves. My anxiety was almost choking me when Larry rose as I walked towards him, his eyes assessing me.
"Emma, thanks for coming by. Have a seat."
I perched on the edge of a chair opposite Larry's massive walnut desk, folding my hands on my lap as I watched him sit back down.
"No problem, Larry. What did you want to talk about?"
"It hasn't escaped my notice that there has been a bit of fervor about you in the press. We had to put extra security guards in our lobby and threaten to call the police before the press would leave this morning."
My stomach clenched, now understanding why there hadn't been anyone to harass me this morning when I had arrived.
"I'm sorry, Larry. All of this has been blown way out of proportion. It's not affecting my work, I promise."
Larry rested his elbows on his desk, steepling his hands. "I'm not in the habit of commenting on the personal lives of my employees. And I don't plan on starting now, but this is becoming a distraction at work.”
"I'm working on a solution to diffuse the situation." I didn't explain that the solution included telling the world about my past with Jackson. "I'll try to take care of this as quickly as possible."
Larry nodded, leaning back in his chair. "That's all I wanted to hear. You've been a great as
set since you've started working here, Emma. I'd hate to have something so petty affect your future here at Forrester."
I nodded quickly, understanding that I was getting a warning. "I've been extremely satisfied working here as well. I promise that I have everything under control."
Resentment was boiling under my skin when I left Larry's office. I couldn't believe my career was in jeopardy because of some stupid bitch who wanted to sell some records. My anger got me through the rest of the day, erecting an invisible armor around me from the stares and whispers. The one chink in my armor was when I had to go across town to a client meeting, which Craig took me to. My client politely pretended that my face wasn't currently plastered on every gossip rag, but I heard the whispers as I left his office.
"What does he see in her? She's nothing special."
"What a slut. I can't believe someone could be so low as to ruin Jackson and Candace's relationship."
"I heard she slept with Jackson in the same bed that he shared with Candace."
I wished I could shut my ears closed with my fingers and run away from the stares of censure, but I forced myself to walk with my head raised high, acting like nothing was affecting me.
At least no one was talking about me audibly at my own office. Celeste had stopped by several times to see how I was doing, realizing that being associated with Jackson was not the boon she had expected considering the viciousness of the articles written about me.
I received several texts from Jackson throughout the day, checking to see how I was and making sure Craig was being my shadow. I thanked him for providing me with him, although I wondered if I should ask how much his services cost, not wanting to be financially obligated to Jackson.
He became angry when I voiced that thought when he called me later that night, just as I got home from work.
"You don't need to pay me back, Emma. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have been so careless."
"Still," I hedged. "I don't feel comfortable with you footing the bill. It's not your fault Candace is making up these lies."
"We'll discuss it later tonight. I'll be over at around nine."
