Note to self: make sure Ivy’s nowhere near sharp implements before beginning this discussion.
‘I’m so screwed,’ I say to the empty rental, slotting the key into the ignition of the pristine though basic car. I suppose this is what happens when you don’t call ahead or ask your assistant to book you some decent wheels.Yeah, I have an assistant now.I couldn’t afford to do that in this instance because questions would be asked. Questions I’ve no intentions of flagging, much less answering. I’ve just switched off my phone and slipped quietly away, but while a bad-boy image may sell movies, it’ll only get me so far in real life. Especially if I start pissing off the wrong people—specifically my new management—because then I’ll be fucked.Bye-bye movies. So long career.But I figure I’m good for a day—it’s not like I’m in the middle of filming. I’m due on location in a few days, so I should be okay for one fuckin’ day.I hope.
At least, they had a full size available,I think, as I less-than-smoothly pull away from the curb.
Christ, she’s gonna hate me. Or hate me even more, if that’s even possible. And it’s not like I haven’t given her plenty of cause. But this is something I need to do for both our sakes.
But I was such a prick to her.
I’ve just got to do it like the ad says. Man up and tell her before the whole world she’s built comes tumbling to the ground.
How about I start with... Ivy, baby.
Nah, that’s a pretty shite start. And one that might earn me a swift kick in the nuts.
I need to start honestly.
Cutz, I’m so sorry, but video footage of us fucking is about to beleaked to the internet ...
I can’t say that because it’s not true. The footage won’t be leaked—it’ll be available on pay-per-view. But at least her family won’t stumble across it accidentally, I suppose.
Ivy, I’m sorry, and I don’t know where to start. The thing is someone stole something from me. Something precious to me. Something that involves you. Something of a very personal nature.
Fuck it—I’ll just say it. I have to.
‘I’ve been hacked, Ivy,’ I say aloud to the car. ‘No—robbed. Someone had access to our videos. Our fucking videos... yeah, ourfuckingvideos.It’ll go live with a porn network if I can’t get it stopped, and I’m worried my legal team is gonna fail.
‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to do other than to say I had to come tell you in person. To assure you this wasn’t my idea or plan. Not this time.’
And this time, the clip will show your face alongside mine even if that’s not what they’re really paying to see. But if the rumours are true...
Is it really him?
Is his dick really that big?
I blow out a long and hard breath as I slide the steering wheel through my fingers, the navigation system directing me to make the next left.
This is going to break her. And I don’t want that. Not anymore.
I’ve only my stupidity to blame.
‘Trust the wrong fucking people,’ I mumble, unfolding myself from the car. I slam the door with a muffledthunk,point the fob to engage the lock, and pull down the bill of my ball cap. It’s not much of a disguise, but it served on the plane up from London. Flying from the States to Heathrow was easy to do incognito because first class offers privacy and cabin mates who either don’t give a fuck who you are or else feign not to. However, making my way through the airport in London was another thing. But they have security and spaces VIPs can slip through, and I never do the sunglasses thing in public areas because you’re just asking people to stare. Besides, wearing sunglasses indoors is a sure sign of a person being an asshole.
So I’ve gone AWOL, but it’s not like they won’t know where I’ve gone thanks to the internet. They’ll know I arrived in London at least, but the rest? I was pretty sneaky, even beyond the cap pulled low and the laying on thick of my grandmother’s accent. I’d boarded my second plane to Edinburgh without so much as a second glance, scoring again at the rental desk with my disguise; I guess the old guy working there isn’t a fan of my work and didn’t pay attention to the name on my credit card.
The sidewalk... pavement... is peppered with wet leaves forced to the ground in the latest Scottish summer downfall. As I cross the road to Ivy’s salon, I’m struck by how much she has achieved since leaving me.
Leaving us.
I push the door open, and a bell jingles above my head. Despite the apparent stylishness of the space, the bell is pure mom and pop store. And strangely enough, that’s who it looks like is watching the storefront.Did Ivy ever mention a grandma? Hadn’t she passed?
‘Hi—excuse me.’ A pink twinset and neat, white curls.Is that a purple stripe in the bangs?‘Is Ivy available?’
‘Who will I say is calling?’ She returns with a polite smile.
‘That’s... that’s... he’s...’ From behind the counter and farther into the salon, a guy with a beard points a pair of scissors my way. There’s a kid in the chair in front of him; a boy of maybe eight or nine, and a teenage girl with a sweeping brush in her hand.
‘Spit it out, dear.’
