by DeSalvo, Kim
“What did they say?” Angela asked urgently. “It wasn’t her, was it? Please tell me it wasn’t her.”
“Did you see her before she left for the airport this morning, Angela?” Dylan asked. She nodded. “Did you notice what she was wearing?”
“Umm,” she said, her eyes rising as if she was trying to recall the detail. “All I remember is that she had her new scarf on—the one we bought in Auckland? It looked so pretty on her that I didn’t notice anything else, sorry.”
Dylan’s shoulders slumped as he collapsed into a chair. “What does the scarf look like, Angela?” he asked.
“Well,” she said, thinking. “It’s silk, but it’s got some texture to it, you know? Kind of like feathers, almost. It’s got lots of colors, kind of swirled around…”
“That’s enough,” he said sadly, dropping his head.
Penelope stepped behind his chair, giving Angela a thumbs-up before reaching over to gently massage Dylan’s shoulders. “Was it Jessa, then?” she asked sympathetically, already knowing the answer.
“She described her to a tee,” he sighed dejectedly. “Right down to the beautiful scarf she was wearing.”
“Oh Dylan, I’m so sorry,” Penelope whispered. “What can I do?”
Anger and disbelief boiled his blood as the realization set in. “Shit, I don’t know what to do!” he exclaimed, getting up from the chair and pacing across the lawn, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “What the hell can I do?” he yelled. “Bloody fucking hell!” He tried to collect his thoughts, but his head was positively spinning. “Oh Christ, I have no choice, do I? I have to let her go—it’s pretty obvious that I can never trust her with anything again.” He paced some more as the betrayal began to bubble into anger deep in his gut. “Shit!” he yelled, kicking a rock that bounced off the side of trailer with a sharp ping. “How could she do this to me?”
“It’ll be OK, Dylan,” Penelope said softly. “We’ll work it out somehow.”
“Really?” Dylan growled. “How do you figure that? My phone number is going to be in the hands of thousands of people in a matter of minutes, I’ve been totally betrayed by someone I trusted, and now I’m halfway around the world with no assistant! Then, I have to leave tomorrow for shooting in some god-forsaken place where there’s no phone or internet reception, which means it’ll be days before I can even deal with this whole situation—my number will be everywhere by then. How is that going to be OK?”
He was playing right into her hands, Penelope thought triumphantly. It couldn’t be more perfect. It was time for her take some control. “Give me your phone, Dylan.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Just give it to me. If I answer a few of the calls, and they hear a woman’s voice, I can tell them that it’s all a joke.” Dylan handed her the phone. “We’ll have to change your number immediately, of course, but that shouldn’t be too hard to do. The little card in your phone has all your numbers stored—you just transfer it to the new one.”
Dylan paced around the yard, his mind running a mile a minute. He couldn’t believe that Jessa had betrayed him like this! How the hell could she be in love with him? She’d never once acted unprofessionally or shown even the hint of a suggestion that she had any romantic feelings for him. But why else would she do something like this? The evidence was staring him right in the face; the callers had both described her as a short, good-looking Chinese woman wearing a really pretty colorful scarf. He had absolutely no choice in the matter. He had to let her go immediately.
“As far as an assistant goes,” Penelope continued, glancing over at Angela, “I don’t have all that much for Angela to do while we’re over here—she can take care of your business as well as mine without it being too much extra work. The girls were working together most of the time anyway, so she pretty much knows how you like things done.” She looked over at Angela hopefully. “Would you be OK with that, Angie?”
Angela jumped up from her chair eagerly. “Oh definitely!” she exclaimed. “It’s the very least I can do—I just feel horrible, Dylan,” she said, shaking off another round of sobs. “I should have tried to stop her, or told you—but I really didn’t think she’d actually do anything!” Her voice was pleading, repentant. “Please let me make it up to you. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll get your number changed for you and inform all your contacts. I can have it all taken care of by the time you get back—please let me do it—it’ll make me feel at least a little better!” She looked at him and pleaded with her eyes, her hands folded beneath her chin.
Dylan ran his fingers through his hair again, stopping to massage the base of his skull where a nasty headache was brewing, and took a deep breath. Two months ago he couldn’t have imagined a scenario where he’d be grateful for Penelope’s presence, but she was really helping him out here; being a real friend. She’d taken control of the situation and gotten Angela to confess, and now she was graciously offering him her own assistant. There was no other choice, really, especially in light of the current situation. He couldn’t possibly handle it all himself, especially since he had to leave the next day. He sighed. “I don’t need too much either, and I wouldn’t overwork you, so if you’re sure, I’d be so thankful.”
“I’m positive!” Angela brightened. “I want to do it! You won’t be sorry, I promise! I’ll go get on the phone with your cell provider right now and see what we have to do!” She sniffed, dabbed at her face one more time with the tissue, and gave Dylan a quick hug. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely, “I won’t let you down—anything you need, anything at all, just ask.” She skipped off to Penelope’s trailer to start working for Dylan.
Penelope was fielding call after call on his phone, playing the crank call victim perfectly. It didn’t matter, though, Dylan thought, because every person who’d heard his voice mail message after he’d turned off the phone would probably recognize his voice and know it was his number. They’d forward the info to their friends, who would do the same. There was no saving it—it was already too far gone. Frustrated, he stormed into his trailer to grab a beer.
It only took a couple punches on the key pad to begin phase two. Penelope had seen the phone Dylan carried, and knew just how to access the information she needed. She scrolled through his contacts, found the one she needed, and punched the button for ‘block caller.’ Edit number was next, and it only took the change of a couple digits to make sure a certain call couldn’t get through. He’d have to leave his phone off today, and by the time he got back from shooting the wilderness scenes, they could blame the ‘error’ on the phone company. The next phase of the plan was even more complicated, and success depended on several factors coming together at once. However, Penelope was more than satisfied with the results of this phase. She mentally patted herself on the back, watching Dylan come out of the trailer with two beers cradled between his fingers. The phone rang again, and she answered as she had the others, telling the person on the line that someone had played a joke on them. Dylan motioned her over with his finger, and handed her a beer.
“Just turn it off,” he said. “It’s too late to stop it; I’ll definitely have to get the number changed.”
Penelope accepted the beer, the first drink he’d shared exclusively with her since they’d arrived, and sat in the chair next to Dylan. “I’m afraid you’re right,” she agreed. “It became an avalanche with the very first person. Try not to worry too much though,” she added quickly, “by the time you get back from the outback, it’ll all be cleared up. Angela’s good at what she does.”
“God, Penelope, you don’t know how much I appreciate that. You really saved my ass here—it’s a real stand-up and unselfish thing, and I thank you.”
She tsked her tongue at him. “Dylan, Dylan,” she said with a waggle of her finger. “I told you I wanted to be your friend. I told you that the person you met in Chicago was not the real me. If anything, I should thank you for the opportunity to show you that I’m not the bitch you think I
am.”
“I don’t think you’re a bitch,” he said.
She wagged her finger at him again. “Yeah, you did,” she smiled, “but I hope that now that you’ve gotten to know the real me, you don’t think so anymore.” She extended her hand to him and he shook it. She pulled Dylan into a friendly hug and he didn’t resist. “Now, quit worrying and let’s just enjoy our beers—we can fix this.” She sipped it happily, although she hated the stuff. The simple joy of sharing something with Dylan; a moment of trust and friendship; was well worth the bitter taste.
Dylan stewed for another two hours, drinking two more beers, before Jessa finally returned. His anger was reaching monumental proportions, but the betrayal weighed even heavier on his mind. Trust didn’t come easily for him; he’d been burned too many times by too many people; but he’d had complete faith in Jessa, and that made it even harder for him to accept. He saw the car pull up, and his heart sank as he watched her get out, all smiles, wearing the damned scarf knotted loosely around her neck.
“Do you want me to go?” Penelope asked as Jessa made her way over to them.
“Actually, I’d like you to stay,” he said, not taking his eyes off the approaching figure. “I don’t want to lose my head, and I’m feeling seriously pissed off right now.”
Penelope smiled. “Whatever you want, Dylan,” she replied.
“Whew!” Jessa said as she approached. “The airport was crazy! The flight was delayed over an hour, and it was so crowded!”
Dylan worked hard to maintain control of his emotions. She didn’t have an ounce of guilt on her face, and he was positively floored that she could be so cold and calculating. “Jessa,” he said coldly. “I am shocked and incredibly hurt by your behavior today. I trusted you completely, and you betrayed that trust.”
“What are you talking about?” her face fell into a puzzled look as she saw the menace in Dylan’s eyes and heard the chill in his voice.
“Did you think I wouldn’t know it was you?” he burst angrily. “That scarf is a little obvious, don’t you think? One of a kind, you said?”
“Dylan, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about! Talk to me, what did I do?” she was scared now; she’d never seen him look so angry.
“Oh shit, just stop pretending, Jessa—it’s too late for that. I am shocked, hurt, angry—I have nothing else to say to you, except to tell you to give me your phone, pack your bags immediately and head back to the airport. I’ll have you booked on the next flight out of New Zealand. You’re fired, Jessa.” His heart hurt just saying the words, and he couldn’t look her in the eye. There wasn’t any guilt there, only pain and confusion, and he wanted to take it all back and come up with some other explanation for this pile of shit he suddenly found himself in. But the evidence was too clear, too indisputable to ignore, and he had to just be done with it before he did change his mind.
“Fired?” she asked, astonished. “What are you saying, Dylan? Holy crap, at least tell me what it is you think I did, because I’ve never done anything to betray your trust! You know me better than that!”
Dylan shook his head. “I thought I did, Jessa, but I guess I didn’t really know you at all.”
Penelope interrupted as she saw Dylan’s shoulders begin to shake. “We all know what you did, Jessa, and so do you. Angela didn’t want to, but she finally filled us in on your little conversation over the weekend, and we were able to confirm everything.”
“Angela?” she asked, searching her mind for something she might have said that was taken out of context or misconstrued but coming up with nothing. “I don’t understand any of this! You know me Dylan,” she pleaded. “I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. Just tell me, so we can work this out, please!”
“I think you just need to go, Jessa. Now,” Penelope said directly. She could see Dylan was about to blow.
“But I…”
“Get out!” Dylan yelled, his face and voice full of emotion and heartbreak. “Just go—I have nothing else to say to you!”
Jessa looked from Dylan to Penelope, and saw just the hint of a smirk at the corners of her lips. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “You’re behind this!” she yelled, pointing. “What the hell did you do, Penelope?”
Penelope looked right at her with daggers in her eyes. “Me?” she said. “You have the audacity to try and blame this on me?”
“You little bitch!” Jessa spat. “You’ve wanted to get your claws into Dylan since that night in Chicago! You’re little nice girl act hasn’t fooled me for a second! Do you really think getting rid of me will make Dylan fall for you? You’re not even close to being good enough for him!”
“That’s enough!” Dylan growled. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Penelope, and you know it! Now give me the phone, and just go!”
Jessa jumped at the tone of his voice, handed over her phone, and ran back to her own trailer in tears. She turned back once and yelled, “She did something Dylan—figure it out before it’s too late!” She was confused, angry, hurt, and didn’t know what to think or say. Her mind was running a hundred miles an hour as she hastily threw her things into her suitcases and dumped them unceremoniously into the trunk of the rental car. How could Dylan fall for her line of bullshit, and what the hell did Penelope pin on her that had made Dylan so angry that he’d fired her? So angry that he wouldn’t even listen to her? She got behind the wheel, unsure if she’d be able to drive through her tears, then jumped out and knocked on Angela’s door. For a brief moment when she first appeared in the doorway Jessa saw sympathy behind her eyes, but they quickly turned cold.
“Angela, what the fuck is going on? Do you know that I’ve been fired?”
“Oh, I know all about it,” she said menacingly. “I’m Dylan’s assistant now.” Then she burst, “How could you do it, Jessa? How could you hurt him like that? He’s always been so good to you!” She didn’t know if she still had an audience, but she was determined to play her role perfectly from start to finish. Her new career depended on it.
“Do what!?” she yelled back, the sound of disbelief desperate in her voice. “No one’ll even tell me what I supposedly did!”
“As if you don’t know,” Angela spat. “Now get out of my sight. I can’t believe I thought we could be friends!” She slammed the door in her face and clicked the latch, then watched from the window as Jessa climbed dejectedly behind the wheel and slowly drove away. She clapped her hands together once, up and down sharply, like a clapperboard and said to herself, “Scene one, take one, cut: that’s a wrap!”
Chapter 30
Tia was surprised when she tried calling Dylan and kept getting a busy signal. Then, when she finally got through, the little electronic voice told her that Dylan’s voicemail box was full, and that she should try her call again later. Maybe he had to go to the boondocks early, she figured, and she was saddened knowing that it would be at least a week before she could talk to him again. She sat down at her computer and sent him an email instead, knowing he’d see it when he returned from filming out in the wilderness.
Penelope sat down with Angela and praised her performance. “I’ve had a lot of assistants during my career,” she said, “and all of them thought they could act; all of them thought they’d get famous through me. But you my dear,” she said fondly, patting Angela on the back, “you just might have it. Keep this up, and I just might be able to get you that supporting role!”
Angela basked in her praise, especially thrilled to hear the words ‘supporting role.’ Her dreams could finally be coming true, and Penelope had the power to make it happen. In the back of her mind and in the pit of her stomach, however, she was bothered by the look she’d seen on Jessa’s face. She hadn’t known her long, but Jessa had been genuinely nice to her and had really tried to be her friend. “Thanks, Penelope. I really appreciate that a lot. But I do feel a little sorry for Jessa though.”
“Oh no, don’t you think that way!” Penelope interrupted. “You think it’s easy to make it
big in this business? You think there aren’t people around every corner who want to knock you off your throne and take it all away from you? It’s a cutthroat business, and you have to be willing to cut a few throats of your own along the way because there’s always going to be someone looking to cut yours. You’ve got to look out for number one, and in order to get to the top, you have to have something to climb on.”
“I know that,” Angela said, “but…”
“Listen,” she said, “you don’t get anywhere in this business by being nice. Being nice is what gets you stepped on. That’s a lesson you need to learn early on.”
“But Dylan’s nice.”
She waved her hands in the air in exasperation. “Yeah, he is. But he’s obviously an exception to the rule. He’s blessed with natural good looks and a likable personality, and he doesn’t have to work at it the way most of us do. Besides, it’s different with music than it is with film. No one’s competing against him to be the singer for his next tour like they’ll compete against you for a starring role. Acting is an extra for him, not his first career. He doesn’t have to be in movies to make his living, so he doesn’t have the same pressure.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, but I…”
Penelope held up a finger to silence her and looked her straight in the eye. “Don’t go getting all holy on me now Miss Angela—you knew what you were in for from the start of all this, and if you can’t see it through to the end, then I’ll find someone who will.” There was no doubt about the message she was sending, and Angela got it loud and clear. “Jessa is good. She’ll find another job—I could even make some calls on her behalf, if that’ll make you feel better.” She had no intention of doing so, of course, but the look in Angela’s eyes changed just slightly, and it was enough.
“Look,” she continued, “The hard part’s over. Aside from Jessa, everyone wins in this situation. Dylan is much better off with me than with that schoolteacher person, and she’s better off without him. We’ve gone over all this before—their relationship just won’t work, and it’s only a matter of time before she gets tired of waiting for him to come home or he screws up and bangs some groupie or supermodel and hurts her anyway. I can give him everything he needs, and the more I get to know him, the more I truly adore him and want to be with him for all the right reasons! I know it didn’t start out that way,” she looked into Angela’s eyes, “but I’m in love with him, Angie, I truly am. I understand him and the world he lives in, so in the long run, this is what’s best for everyone—I’m just giving it a bit of a jump start, is all.” She put the carrot out there again—she held the power to make the girl’s dreams come true. “Think about the prize, Angela,” she said soothingly. “Think about what it’s going to mean for you to be handed a role—that’s way more than most people get.” The girl’s eyes brightened considerably. “Now I need to know that you’re still with me on this, all the way.”
