She exhales and nods. “I flirted with him and gave him my number.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
“You’d made it clear to Francesca your date that night wasn’t allowed to network for herself. You told Francesca that was rule number one—your date had to be there to support you, and only you, and not her own agenda. I knew you’d be furious with me for hunting Howard down and slipping him my number. I thought you might even demand your money back from Francesca.”
I take a deep breath. “You told him you worked for Francesca that night?”
“Yes. And he liked it. It turned him on.”
I look down at the table. I can’t believe Isabel let me pay her rent that entire year, when she knew how hard I was working to keep my own dreams afloat. I can’t believe she did that to me, when Howardwas probably slipping her gifts and God knows how much money, at the same time.
“I really did quit Francesca’s when I told you,” Isabel says. She begins to cry, but I don’t believe a single tear. “Howard was my only client after that. But he hired me directly. After a while, though, I told him I’d fallen in love with you and wouldn’t be doing anything with him, anymore. And that’s when he drugged me. The first time. When I woke up, I told him I’d go to the police, and he said, go ahead. He said he’d tell them, and everyone else, I’d worked for Francesca. He said he’d make sure I never got hired for anything but porn. And that’s when he finally gave me that first big role. And then another one. And another. Until my career really started taking off... But then I felt trapped. Like I couldn’t get away, even if I wanted to... Which I did, Reed. I swear, I did. But I was in a gilded cage.” Isabel wipes her eyes. “He said he’ll finally let me go if I marry him. He said he’d never let a ‘scandalous’ secret like mine come out about hiswife. Not even his ex-wife.”
“And when will that be?” I ask flatly. “What does the marriage contract say, Isabel?”
She looks down. “Five years.”
I shake my head. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. For so long, I thought I was defective, thanks to my childhood. I thought I was literally incapable of falling in love. I knew I’d felt a glimmer of something special with Isabel that first night. Something I’d never felt before. Not quite that thing everyone writes about in love songs. But, still, it was definitelysomethingmore than I’d ever felt before. But then, as our relationship progressed, I felt myself constantly butting up against an impenetrable wall. And I thought that was because ofme. BecauseIwastoo fucked up to let someone get too close to me. BecauseIwas too guarded to ever let someone in, all the way. But now, suddenly, I realize it was never going to work for Isabel and me, not becauseI’mtoo fucked up to love. I mean, yes, I’m fucked up. But not to the degree I’ve always thought! No, Isabel and I were doomed because our entire relationship was built on lies, from dayone. Because Isabel was playing me, and using me, and a piece of my heart always sensed it, and held back out of self-preservation.
“I’m sorry, Reed,” Isabel chokes out. “I’ve always loved you. Only you.”
“You don’t know what love is,” I say. I look at Georgina, my eyes plainly telling her:But you sure do.I return to Isabel, my jaw muscles pulsing. “If you’re hoping I’ll save you from Howard, the same way I’ve always saved you, then stop hoping right now. I’m not here to save you this time.Georginais.She’syour white knight. She’s the one throwing you a lifeline. So, grab it with both hands.” With that, I grab Georgina’s hand under the table and squeeze. “Nobody can blackmail you about something you’re not hiding. Set yourself free. I don’t know if you’ll find true happiness by doing that. But what have you got to lose? You’re obviously miserable now.”
As Isabel sits quietly, her chest heaving, Georgina reaches into her computer bag, and pulls out a pad. She scribbles on it, tears off a sheet, and slides it across the table to Isabel. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk to me about any of this. So, call my boss, CeeCee Rafael. This is her number. CeeCee’s been wanting to expose Howard for years. I’ve also confidentially listed the names of the women I’ve spoken to about Howard, several of whom were on Francesca’s roster, early in their careers. Talk to them. Hear for yourself what Howard did to them. See for yourself if you feel okay with staying silent after you speak to them.”
To my relief, Isabel takes the paper. But, again, she says nothing.
I say, “If Howard’s got you brainwashed into thinking you’re nothing without him, he’s dead wrong about that. You’re a brilliant actress, Isabel. And everyone knows it. I know for a fact my buddy Ethan Sanderson—you remember him, right? I know for a fact he’s got at least four films in the pipeline he’dkillto hire you for. Wouldn’t you rather do movies you can sink your teeth into, anyway? That’s what you always used to dream about when we were young and poor—not doingsuperheromovies. Chase yourrealdreams, Isabel. Fuck Howard.”
After stowing the scribbled paper in her purse, Isabel stands, throws back the entirety of her second martini, and says. “I’ve got to go.”
“Take Georgie’s article,” I say.
Isabel pauses and eyes the pages on the table. But she doesn’t move.
“As a favor to me,” I say. “If you ever truly loved me, as you claim, then take that article and read it tonight. It’s the only thing I’ve ever asked of you.”
Nodding, Isabel picks up the pages and folds them into her purse.She holds my gaze for a long moment, her blue eyes full of longing and regret, and, finally, leaves the room without saying another word.
The moment the door of the private dining room closes, Georgie melts into her chair. “Holy crap, that was intense.”
“You were amazing.”
“I was?”
“A superhero.”
She smiles from ear to ear. “So were you. We’re a dynamic duo.”
“Let me take you somewhere, Georgie. Some place where we can relax and fuck and eat and think of nothing but each other.”
“Sounds amazing. When?”
“As soon as possible. Your internship is officially over at the end of the week, right? So, let’s pick up and go then.”
“Where?”
“St. Barts... Santorini... the Amalfi Coast? You pick. Anywhere, as long as it’s got sun and beaches and is easy to get to from the East Coast. We’ll stop in New York, on our way, pay a quick visit to my mother, and then head to paradise.”
