“I promise, I’m your very apologetic, very desperate acquaintance who made a bad decision but is actually a very good person. I truly am so sorry, but I haven’t booked a job in ages, and Juliette’s offer was too good to pass up. I swear I’m not some maniac or anything. Juliette’s been close with my mom for ages, and I’ve known her since I was a kid. She only told me a few things about you. Just your basic likes and dislikes.”
“Just my basic likes and dislikes?” I ask. He shrugs dejectedly and I shake my head for what feels like the millionth time as I start to fully grasp what it is that I’m hearing. “So everything we had in common...the prosecco and how you wanted a dog and love cooking shows...those were all lies?”
Phillip looks even more ashamed, his eyes shifting to the floor before lifting back up to mine. “I thought having shared interests would help our connection to materialize quicker.”
For a second, I think I might actually black out.
“Wow,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. “You two are sick.”
“No, please, Winnie! I’m so sorry. I understand now that I shouldn’t have done it, but I honestly never meant to hurt you. It seemed harmless enough at the start, but I shouldn’t have ever gone along with it. I just needed a job so badly. You know what this industry is like, don’t you? Sometimes you agree to anything if it helps you get ahead.”
I continue to look at him, and it’s not at all hard to see the self-loathing that’s painted all over his face. I’m hurt and betrayed, but I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t see a little bit of myself staring back at me. I’m another person who’s guilty of going along with one of Juliette’s morally bankrupt plans in the hopes that she’d help me. She casts her web and the world just walks on in. Including me.
Phillip notices my momentary reverie and is quick to plead his case again. “Please say you forgive me? I really have been my true self with you, minus the prosecco and cooking shows, though, the proseccoisstarting to grow on me. It’s shockingly refreshing on a warm summer day.”
I hesitate just slightly as I push past him to scoop Ollie up from off the couch, grabbing his leash from the table and not stopping as I head for the door. I try to leave in stoic rage, but my soft thespian heart forces me to pivot around once I reach the hallway. “I don’t forgive you, but I don’t blame you either,” I tell him. “I know who the ringleader is here.”
Phillip’s entire demeanor brightens for a flash before he tones it back down. “I really am so sorry, Winnie.” I don’t answer him, and his nerves seem to prompt him to go on. “So you don’t entirely hate me, then?” he asks hopefully.
“I marginally hate you,” I answer. “But I’ll tell Juliette you did a good job. She should give you the role she promised you.” I head for the stairwell then, needing to drop Ollie off in the studio before heading back to the park.
I’ve just pushed open the door when Phillip calls out, “I’m still glad that I got to meet you. And if you want my Robin slippers as restitution, I’ll hand them over without hesitation. There will be tears in my eyes, obviously, but if you want them, they’re yours.”
“Your slippers are safe,” I eventually say, still holding the heavy door open. “Though I probably should take them purely out of spite.”
He grins at me in a mixture of sadness and relief. “You’re a very good person, Winnie.”
I shake my head with an unamused smile and flip him the middle finger with the hand that’s carrying Ollie. Phillip offers me a final apologetic wave in return as I step fully into the stairwell, letting the door slam shut behind me.
A befitting conclusion to our entirely non-epic love story.
22
When I get back to Regent’s Park, it’s moderately controlled pandemonium. A sizable crowd has formed out front. Backstage, everyone is running around and rushing behind the angled curtains that separate us from the outside world. There are a million things I could do at the moment, but all I’m thinking about is confronting Juliette, determined to have this out. After a few minutes, I still haven’t found her, but I have found Ellie, who is now talking to a hyperventilating Roshni, and my protective instincts kick in right away.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, immediately approaching the pair. “What’s going on?”
Ellie seems more than grateful for my arrival and adjusts her stance so we’re all standing in a circle. “Thank goodness you’re here. We’re having a bit of a moment. Bethany stepped in a divot while walking in the grass and twisted her ankle, so Roshni needs to go on in her place.”
I turn to Roshni, now fully grasping the reason for her terrified state. There are four parts inThe Lights of Trafalgar–two main characters and two side parts. Bethany is one of our actors; she plays George’s best friend. It may not be a leading role, but it’s substantial. Substantial enough to be petrifying to a first-time actor.
“I can’t do this. I really can’t,” Roshni wheezes.
Ellie looks at me, desperate but confident. “Can I leave her with you?”
“Yes, we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
Ellie then rushes off, no doubt having a thousand other obstacles to overcome by showtime. I step closer to Roshni, placing my hands on her tensed-up shoulders.
“I can’t do this,” she repeats, still looking like she’s staring down the barrel of a gun. “You have to tell Ellie that I can’t do this.”
“Roshni, listen to me. I promise, youcando this. Don’t you remember how good you were at rehearsals?”
“That was just practice,” she says frantically. “I was reading from a script, and I was only standing in. This is the real, actual show.”
“Yes, and you are really, actually great.”
She shakes her head, in no way accepting the truths I’m telling her. “Not at this level. Not in front of an audience.”
