“I wouldloveyour help. Thank you for offering.” That was exactly what she’d hoped he’d do, and he’d come through. “Can you come over? You can bring Scout.”
“You got it. Give me ten minutes.”
ChapterForty-Eight
Harper lay on the bed, staring at the constellations on the ceiling, but not really seeing them. She was too numb with the disbelief of what was happening, her mind whirling with thoughts. She’d feared this. And now it was reality. Had she made it happen? Had she said something to Suzanne to cause this?
Nothing she could think of but maybe she had. Maybe shewasto blame for this. Well, of course, she was. Her lies had created this problem.
Except she hadn’t really lied. Not the kind of lie that was being reported on social media. Nothing blatant. Never a straightforward lie.
How many people in this world were doing a job only because someone had thought them capable of it? That was no different from what she’d been engaged in.
And it wasn’t like she hadn’t had some training. Yes, she was entirely self-taught, but once she’d realized the path her life was taking, she’d searched out and devoured the best books on grief, depression, decision-making, career counselling, basic money management, and then there were the lighter subjects like how to dress for your body type, color theory, general etiquette, and techniques for winning people over.
She’d taken some classes online, too. Some were college classes that had been offered by various institutions for free, some were courses she’d paid for, but she’d never stopped learning. Anything she thought could help her help her clients, she’d done.
Now this.
Suzanne didn’t even have a clue what Harper really did. How many times had she listened to a client cry because they’d been overlooked for a part or an award? How many times had she held their hand or offered her shoulder when a client had been torn apart by the press for some tiny thing?
She knew what a lot of people thought about actors. That they were overpaid and spoiled. It was true that actors weren’t brain surgeons or rocket scientists. Some of them weren’t even very nice people. Those types she never took on as clients. But a lot of them were a genuinely good sort with big hearts and fragile egos.
It couldn’t be overlooked that they were also providing entertainment that helped millions of people escape their own less-than-ideal situations. What was better than forgetting your own troubles by having a good laugh or cry because a character on the screen had made you feel something?
She sighed. All of that would be ignored. Instead, the press would focus on Harper and how she’d created this new persona to dupe celebrities into giving her their money. Dupe. That was the exact word one of the articles had used.
Not once had she ever duped anyone.
Now her clients would fire her, and she’d have nothing. She’d still have this house, but without an income she could only afford to stay here for so long. Could she find a job that would allow her to stay here? What could she do? Who would hire her?
There was Mitch, but—she cringed. Did Mitch know about her? Had he seen the stories? He was going to hate her. He was going to be furious with her. She could just feel it. Joyce might be, too. The pair of them might never speak to Harper again.
She thought about checking her phone to see if there were any messages from Mitch or Joyce, but she’d left it on the coffee table in the living room. Probably better she didn’t look. She couldn’t bear to see all the texts, missed calls, and voicemails that were undoubtedly waiting for her.
Harper drew in a ragged breath. She wanted to climb under the covers and stay there, head buried beneath the fine cotton sheets.
A soft knock on the door. “Harper? It’s just me. Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
Frankie entered. “How are you doing?”
Harper sat up, heaving out a sigh. “Not great.”
“I can imagine.” Frankie sat on the edge of the bed. “Lucas is coming over. If anyone knows about social media, it’s him. I told him he could bring Scout. I hope that was okay.”
“It’s fine, but…” Harper winced. “He must think I’m a terrible person.”
“He thinks nothing of the kind. Neither does Prisha. Remember that.”
Harper nodded, but she wasn’t so sure. “Why is he coming over?
“He’s going to help me craft a statement for you. We’re not going to do anything without your input, obviously, but this is his domain. He knows how these things work. Once it meets your approval, you can send it to the media outlets or publish it on your own social media. Whatever you think is best.”
“What I think is best is if Suzanne was uncovered as the devious, destructive toad that she truly is. What gives her the right to do this to me?”
“Nothing. But she’s connected and her husband’s a big somebody and that’s given her an unfortunate amount of sway.”
