“I think you guys can handle it without me.” I don’t stay to listen to what they have to say and walk out of the office, a weight lifting off my shoulders the second I step outside.
Like most days in L.A., it’s beautiful out, and even though I’m longing for the rain, I can still be grateful for the sunshine.
I don't stop walking until I end up standing outside my house two hours later.
It feels different now as I stare at the sleek lines of the modern home in front of me. It’s emotionless and far too big. I’m not sure how I ever lived here, because this place is not me at all—I don’t think it ever was. I just wasn’t ready to admit it to myself yet.
Maybe I could sell this house and move into something cozier. I don’t need all this space; all it would do is serve to remind me I’m the only one filling it.
Shoving my morose thoughts aside, I trudge up the front steps, through the front door and into the vast foyer.The walls are grey, the Italian concrete tiles on the floor cool underneath my feet as I kick off my shoes by the door. Everything about this place is stale—suffocating.
I move further into the house, about to take the stairs up to the second floor so I can finally take a shower, when I hear a voice. I tip toe closer, something in my gut telling me to be quiet.
“I know, it was a brilliant move.” Maxine. Leave it to her to show up uninvited and further ruin my day. I’m about to tip toe upstairs when, “No, of course Jade doesn’t know.” I stop dead in my tracks, craning my neck so I can hear her better without alerting her to my presence.
What don’t I know?
I stand behind a tall oak cabinet, blocking my body from view as she sits in the living room.
“The buffoon thought he could blackmail me.” She pauses, listening to whoever she’s talking to, and my heart starts to race. “All he did was arm me with everything I needed to get her back to L.A.”
My heart stops and starts and stops again.
“No, he didn’t even question who I was before sending me an email with snapshots from the video. When I hopped on a call with him, he said he would leak the video if I didn’t get my client out of his way.”
My stomach threatens to heave as I continue listening to a conversation that reeks of impending heartbreak. My mom has been in communication with Chapman, and she never said a word to me about it. This whole time, she knew he had information on me that could ruin my and Tieran’s reputations, and she didn’t warn me.
“I told him he could take his video and shove it up his ass,” Maxine laughs haughtily. I take a gamble and peek around the corner to where she’s lounging on the couch, drinking a glass of wine. “Men are always so short sighted, but I suppose he got what he wanted, and so did I. Jade will never know I’m the one who sent those photos into the press, and she’ll assume he did it. Now, I haveher back here, ready to work again. No more fooling around.” She lifts the glass to her lips, taking a long pull of her drink as she listens to the other end of the line. Leaning forward she sets the glass down on the lucite coffee table. “Of course, I already have her next month booked solid.”
Lifeless walls close in around me as my vision goes spotty, forcing me to place a hand on the wall for balance. The room spins, blood rushes to my ears, and my body goes numb at the admission spoken so baldly—soproudly–as it reverberates around the room.
My legs act of their own accord, moving into her view, and then my mouth is speaking, but I barely hear the words—can hardly recognize my own voice. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Maxine’s typically unflappable face pales when she sees me in front of her, but then she stands, straightens the front of her tweed dress, and smiles. “Darling! I didn’t hear you come in.” The recovery from fear stricken to completely unaffected should be studied in a psychology masterclass on narcissists.
“What did you just say?” I’ve never heard my voice sound so virulent as the question pushes through my teeth on a hiss.
Her right eye's subtle twitch is the only signal she’s nervous. “Oh, nothing. I was just telling Joyce I have a few events coming up, including a meeting with a big five publisher. They want you to write a book!”
“I don’t want to write a book.”
“Just think about the possibilities. You could write a self-help tell-all inspiring young girls who want to be like you. It would make you look fantastic, and the sales would be through the roof. You could do an entire book tour!”
“Answer the question.”
“Then there are a few brands that want you to speak at their creator events. It’s great exposure and would go a long way toward fixing your image after…well, you know.” She gasps and snaps her fingers. “That would be a great place to start talking about your book.”
“Did you leak those photos to the press?” She must see something on my face, because she finally relents.
My mother rolls her eyes before looking at me in mine. “I did it for your own good.”
The crack reverberates through the room before I even realize I lifted my hand and slapped her.
“I’m so—” She slaps me back, and tears immediately well in my eyes.
“You ungrateful little bitch.”
Devastation is replaced by rage in an instant. “I’m the ungrateful one? You’ve been whoring me out to the world for the greater part of a decade for a payout!”
