I give a tight smile to the secretary, who opens her mouth, but I just move towards where I instinctively know Jackie is, finding her in Jefferson’s office, sitting on the edge of his desk. Their familiarity, especially with the knowledge of the sketchy shit he’s done over the years and the way he treats Leo, makes me uneasy, but that, too, I ignore.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask, irritated. Jackie’s head snaps up, eyes wide as she looks at me. “What was that, Jackie? What just happened at the dance studio?”
“It was…press?” she asks, and the way she’s trying to play it off and play dumb makes that anger swell.
“We don’t do press there. How did Chris even know I was there? Who set that up? Was it you?” I ask, each question escalating in frustration and volume as I try to understand what just happened.
I won’t be able to go there again, at least not for a long time, not until the press starts to forget, and even then, if they know I’m in town, they’ll have someone camped out there.
Just another moment of relative normalcy that’s gone for me.
This goes against everything we’ve ever agreed to, goes against the clear lines I’ve drawn in the sand on what the press can have.
They can have my relationships, they can have my day-to-day moments, they can have every personal moment crafted for the brand.
That’s it.
They don’t get to see my process.
They don’t get music before it’s done.
They don’t get any kind of charity work, I do, since no matter the intention, it always gets spun to look bad.
Except she brought them right into it.
“You know, I think Leo did it.” Jefferson says with a lift of a shoulder. “He probably saw what a goldmine for Chris this was and knew it would be good for your charity work to be publicized as well.”
I snap to him, then shake my head.
“Leo wouldn’t do that. We’ve worked together long enough that he knows my boundaries. The work I do there is never made public, something he knows.”
“Why not?” Jefferson asks, clearly not understanding. I take in a deep breath, trying to remind myself that his entire business is PR, that there’s a reason he is this way, that it’s because he sees every member as an opportunity for PR.
“Because I don’t do it for thebrand,” I say, trying to center myself. “I don’t donate to the studio because I want people to think I’m a good person… I do it because I want to bring a little joy to the kids at the dance school, and to be able to dance in peace once in a while. I won’t ever be able to go there without it being splashed everywhere now,” I say, that all too familiar grief moving through me. I’ve always loved coming here, but now it’s ruined by Jefferson and Chris.
“So who did it? Who told Chris and all of those paparazzi where I was going to be?” I ask, getting angry the longer I think about it. Jefferson blinks at me, not expecting this, but when Jackie speaks, all attention moves to her.
“I did,” Jackie says, looking confused, sliding her phone into her bag. “It was a good opportunity. What does it matter?”
“Because I don’t do this for the media, Jackie. You know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, goodwill, performative, I know. But it’s really going to help Chris.”
That one twists, frustration building as she speaks.
“You’remytalent agent,Jackie. Not his. You’d do well to remember that. If you pull something like this again, I’ll also have to.”
Something flashes on her face before she stifles it down.
“Jefferson, would you mind leaving us for a moment?”
“Of course not. The room is all yours.”
Jackie gives him a soft, pleasant smile before she walks him to the door as if he owns the place, sitting behind him, resting her ass on the edge of the table, and giving me a soft smile.
“What is this really about, Willa?”
“It’s about you not respecting my wishes. What is goingon,Jackie?”
