“What was her name?” Briar presses.
“Don’t remember.”
“And how did this woman contact you?”
He lifts up his phone.
“Do me a favour,” Briar turns to face Julie, who is shrinking back into her seat like a cornered animal. “Call her back.”
“Right. Yeah.” He fumbles with his phone. A high-pitched jangle starts blaring from Julie’s bag. I take a massive gulp of coffee, sitting back to enjoy the show.
“Don’t you want to pick that up?” Briar asks mildly.
Colour flushes Julie’s face. “Fine,” she snaps. “Fine. Yes. I’ve been giving paparazzi tip-offs. It’s like the kid says; everyone does it. Any good PR manager would.”
Briar glances up at Roger. “Thank you. Could you wait outside?”
“Um… Could I…” He lifts his camera hopefully.
“When we get outside, I’ll give you some really good ones,” she promises. He looks a bit disappointed, but Cricket is already cracking his knuckles, so he makes a hasty exit.
Briar turns back to her PR manager, her expression cold. “You know that’s how X was finding me, right? He was just following the paparazzi. Because of you, he knew what restaurants I was going to. What hotel I was staying at. It’s how he recognised and followed our car. God, I bet it wasn’t even Rodriguez who leaked the break-in story, was it? It was you.”
She looks a bit chastised, but mostly defensive. “I didn’t know he was going to try and kidnap you, did I? Look, babe—you have to understand. It’s really hard to stay relevant in this industry. You just turned twenty-nine. That’s almostthirty.”
“I know. Practically an old crone.”
“You may as well be,” she snaps. “We all know women age like milk in Hollywood. You’re already losing traction.”
“So?”
“So, the stalker angle was bringing you interest, keeping you relevant. I just wanted to make sure you made the most of that, by being seen.”
Something in Briar snaps. She slams her juice glass on the table. “Cut the crap! This isn’t about me! If it were about me, you would have, I don’t know, tried to keep mealive? This is about you, and your percentage cut. I lose public favour, you lose money. That’s it. We both know it, so don’t bullshit me.”
Julie leans back in her chair, chewing her gum hard. Her cheeks are red.
Briar sighs. “Look, I’m glad I met you. Because you—inadvertently, whilst trying to save your ass—introduced me to some people who really, truly care about me. But I don’t want to surround myself with people who see me as a paycheck instead of a person.”
Julie sneers, her glossy lips stretching. “You don’t want yourhiredstaff to see you as a paycheck? Good luck finding someone.”
“I actually already have someone in mind.” Briar gives me a little smile. “It’s over, Julie. You’re fired. I would say I’m sorry, but I'm really,reallynot.”
Julie doesn’t move.
“You can leave, now,” Briar prompts.
Julie purses her lips, her eyes flicking between us, then to the paps outside. I can see her mind running at a mile a minute, trying to find a way to convince Briar to let her stay.
“Babe—” she starts.
“No. Go.”
“Would you like me to escort her out?” I ask mildly. Heat flushes Julie’s face. She stands and shoves her notebook into her bag.
“You’ll be sorry for this,” she mutters. “Just wait and see. Without me, you’ll fall out of the public eye faster than you can bloody blink.” She tosses the bag over her shoulder and marches to the café door.
“Bye, babe,” Briar calls after her. Julie gives us one last glare, then slams the door shut, the little welcome bell tinkling.
