Finally I ask it: “What are we really doing here?”
Sandy dragged me out of bed this morning. For the past week I haven’t left Georgina’s. Alexis put a ban on the computer, and she has given me limited control over my cell phone, too.
Everyone keeps telling me it’s going to blow over, but no one will say when. Every day there are new stories. Rainer is back together with Britney. Jordan and Alexis broke up. We went to Maui to sort everything out. We’ve all quit the franchise. The whole thing is a publicity stunt.
Publicity stunt. Right. Because this press is so glowing and radiant.
I’ve had a headache for days. Something is chewing away at the vertebrae of my neck. Maybe I have meningitis.
Sandy agreed with Alexis—it’s better for me to lie low. Rainer is following suit, too. He hasn’t made any statements, and neither have I. “Silence is golden,” Sandy keeps saying. “Any energy is going to make it bigger.”
She has remained firmly on my side,andRainer’s. I don’t pretend it is any small feat.
“Just make me one promise,” she told me. “Do not, under any circumstances, see Jordan Wilder.”
I’ve kept it.
Sandy gives Amanda a raised eyebrow. Amanda leans forward. She’s in her late thirties, with jet-black hair that is always pulled back in an expertly styled bun. She wears glasses and dress suits and generally has a scarf tied around her neck. She’s the best in the business, and she terrifies me.
“I know you’re aware this scandal”—Sandy clears her throat, but Amanda continues—“hasn’t been good for your image.”
“No way,” I deadpan.
“We’re holding tight to your Lancôme deal, but it hasn’t been easy.”
“Are they pulling their offer?”
Amanda threads her hands together. “They want to. But we won’t let them. The point is that right now your image is in the toilet.”
“What she means to say is—” Sandy interjects.
“What she means to say is exactly that,” I finish for her.
Amanda nods. “Sorry, but it’s true. We’ll be able to rehab, but the stuff you want isn’t available right now. Whatisavailable are these franchises. You’re still killing it at the box office.”
Lockedis having a second life. Box office numbers haven’t been this good since opening weekend. Everyone wants to see the love triangle come to life on the big screen.
“Have you heard any more aboutCloser to Heaven?” I ask.
Sandy and Amanda exchange a glance. “I think we want to move in a different direction,” Amanda says, speaking slowly. “Closer to Heavenmight not be the right role to launch you post-Locked.”
“They don’t even want to consider me anymore,” I whisper. What little opportunity I had for that part went away the second I put my hands on Jordan.
Sandy puts her hand on my knee. “It’s not that,” she says. “It’s just that they were already concerned about you being thought of as theLockedgirl. You’re at maximum exposure now.”
“But you won’t always be,” Amanda offers. “Not in this way. Not if we make the right moves now.”
Amanda types something into her computer, then stops and looks at us. “Now more than ever I want us all to be on the same page about the career.” The Career. She uses the termthe careerconstantly. Neveryour, alwaysthe.
“I’m not sure we are,” I say.
Both Sandy and Amanda stare at me.
“I loveLocked, and that’s just the point—I want to do projects that inspire me.Closer to Heavendoes. This mermaid thing doesn’t.”
Amanda opens her mouth to counter, but I keep talking. “Neither doesSunset Rivalsor that one you pitched me about Salem witches reincarnated. I don’t want to do any of that. Nothing with a green screen. I want to do a real, human story. I want toact.”
“Sweetheart,” Amanda says, her tone clipped. “You’ll beactingin all of these.”
