“No, I don’t want you to hide. I just want you to lay low, giving the press minimal sightings, if at all possible. Let them wonder what you’re doing, and more importantly, who you might be doing it with. I’m planning to strategically drop tips and hints to major publications about you being happy or flirting with someone new, implying that you might be feeling inspired, that kind of thing. The mystery will mean that when you do step out, everyone will be clamoring to see you and ready to listen to everything you’re saying. Think of it as a press detox or a reset. You’ve been so heavily in the spotlight over the past year, we don’t want to exhaust people’s interest in you.”
“They won’t get exhausted by her,” Jackie says, clearly irritated, and I think it’s on my behalf. “She’s Willa Stone.”
“I agree that public interest in Willa has always and continues to be high, but we all know how these things go. Themore we give them, the more they want. If we give less, then they’ll be primed and even more excited to invest themselves into the relationship and thus, the next album,” Leo agrees, his voice steady and firm, long used to dealing with my manager. Jackie is clearly unimpressed by the plan, but for a moment, light fills my chest at the idea of a break.
Hiding away.
No press.
No interviews, no scheduled appearances.
“And Leo’s taking a leave of absence for the next few months,” Jefferson says, speaking for the first time and cutting into my thoughts, his voice tight, clearly unimpressed. “That’s why I’m here for today’s meeting. I want to be fully in the loop for your next cycle, in case you need me. I’m planning to stay on top of Leo’s clients while he’s away.” Now that is a genuine surprise to me, the idea of workaholic Leo Sinclaire taking a leave of absence. But when I look at him, he’s glaring daggers at his partner.
“It’s not a leave of absence. I just won’t be in the city,” Leo clarifies. With the venom in his voice, it’s clear this is an ongoing conversation between the men. Jefferson opens his mouth, but I speak instead, curious.
“Where are you going?”
“I bought a house,” Leo says, jaw tight. He hates talking about himself, but I make it my mission to try to learn something about the closed-lipped man every time I see him. Most of the time, I fail, which is why, after nearly seven years of working together, I know that he doesn’t like pickles (a crime), takes his coffee black (gross), grew up in Ocean View, New Jersey, and is an only child. I nod and open my mouth to ask another question, to see if I can get more, but he interrupts, redirecting the conversation.
“But I’m not requesting the low profile for my benefit. I will still be available if needed, and I am not far away at all. As your publicist, I would be your first line of defense for any kind of trouble.” He doesn’t say this to me, but to his boss, that glare locked in place one more. “This method has worked for you in the past: it worked with your third release, when you disappeared, then reappeared, dating Riggins. It would be a good time to switch up the process to avoid it getting stale or too predictable. Unpredictability with these kinds of things is incredibly important. We were able to divert attention after the Riggins incident, but we have to play this next one closely.”
“Well, if Riggins hadn’t gone off and—” Jackie starts, but I saw this coming and cut her off.
“Jackie,” I say, firmly, because I’m not having this conversation again. When Riggins Greene, my very first fake relationship and now a friend of mine, went on a talk show to reveal that we had been in a fake relationship while he went to rehab, Jackie wanted to throw the book at him, sue him for breach of contract. With Leo’s help, I managed to convince her otherwise, reminding her it would reveal more than we wanted. Instead, we twisted the narrative to tell the media that I was unaware of his marital status before beginning my relationship with Riggins, and that it was a turbulent time for all of us involved, then wished him and Stella all the best.
“I think it’s smart,” I say, turning to Jackie. “I can’t go from relationship to relationship nonstop, and we all know that if I’m out of sight, the fans speculate and build up the suspense.” I turn back to Leo. “I do have my mom’s charity event in early October, though, and I can’t miss that.” When my mom retired from being my brand manager, she joined a few charity boards to keep herself busy and, more importantly, relevant and connected, so a few times a year, I’m expected to donate to auctions or, if I haveno other scheduled events, I’m expected to attend the galas she is helping to run. Leo nods.
“That will be fine, I’ve already included that in your schedule, and we should have the relationship moving by then. And if not, being spotted here and there is good. We simply want to minimize exposure.”
“I do want to make it clear that if you’re not comfortable with this plan, you can let me know at any time. Chris is my personal client, and I know we could easily bump up the schedule. We don’t have to work on Leo’s timeline,” Jefferson says with that same sickly-sweet smile on his lips.
My ick fully triggers. I don’t like something about his tone…or maybe it’s the way it feels like he’s using me to get at Leo. I put Willa Stone™ back on. My shoulders straighten, and I look down my nose at the man before me.
“We’re not working on Leo’s timeline: we’re working on my timeline. My music isn’t ready anyway, so there’s no point.” There’s a sharp pain in my ankle as Jackie kicks me beneath the table, since she’s always warning me to lock my attitude in a box. You can’t be America’s Sweetheart if the public thinks you’re a bitch, after all, but I don’t drop my stare-down with Jefferson.
“Of course, of course. I was just throwing it out there,” Jefferson says, brandishing his hands in surrender, and an awkward silence fills the room as I continue to stare at him.
From across the way, there’s a small sound, a snort coming from Leo’s direction, and I finally break my gaze from his boss to look to him. Entertainment is written across his face, but there’s something else there too, a flash of something in his blue eyes, not quite relief or gratification, since I don’t think the man is actually capable of either of those things, but something close to it. I give him a smile, hoping it looks genuine, before Jackie speaks.
“Well, I don’t want to waste more of your day, Willa. I think we can probably end things here,” Jackie says, a fake pleasantness in her words. “But Jefferson, I would love to chat with you some more about Chris and his goals and expectations for this collaboration. Are you open for lunch today?”
“For you? Always,” Jefferson says, then stands. “And remember, Willa, anything at all, feel free to reach out.” I smile and nod, staying seated as they leave. Once they’re gone, I stand, grab my bag, and follow Leo out, my mind still reeling from that meeting but eager for an opportunity to get under his skin.
FOUR
WILLA
Leo’s steps are long strides, and it takes at least two of my own to match one of his, but I reach him and then smile up at him, desperate to talk tosomebodyabout that meeting.
“That was weird, right?” I ask as we wait, side by side, for the elevator. Leo looks at me for a single, irritated moment before looking back down at his phone. I can’t help it; a small smile tips onto my lips at the look.
I have always deeply annoyed Leo Sinclaire from the moment we started working together, and despite my brand beingeveryone-likes-me, it’s been a breath of fresh air to find someone who isn’t constantly striving to kiss my ass.
“Jackie and Jefferson?” I ask, continuing despite his silence. “I think they might have been flirting.” He stays quiet, tapping on his screen as we wait for the elevator. “Do you think they slipped off to have a nooner?” That gets his attention, and his head snaps up to look at me.
“Did you just saynooner?”
I bite back a laugh and respond with a straight face. “What else would you call a mid-day hookup?”
