Chapter 3
Disconcerted from her encounter with the mysterious Eve, Ruthi took a walk to clear her head.
I wonder how long they’re going to make me wait before we can get this show on the road, thought Ruthi impatiently, striding toward the lagoon.
I suppose it’s too much to ask if Ms. Bubblegum is here for reasons other than the commercial. Gah. How damned annoying.
Despite her efforts, however, she couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful Domme who had appeared so unexpectedly only a short while ago.
The maid’s uniform paired with stiletto heels had taken her aback, but there had been no mistaking the control and dominance in the Mistress’s voice and manner.
Shouldn’t she have on a catsuit and be carrying a whip or something instead of wearing a maid’s uniform?
she wondered. Completely at a loss as to how she should find the Domme again, she forced herself to think about the commercial instead.
“It’s for a good cause, but Ruthi Shay doesn’t do good causes,” she groused out loud, picking her way carefully along the path.
“The suffering of humanity is much more interesting—and Oscar-worthy—when there is no happily ever after. However, I made a deal to shoot a commercial for this particular charity in exchange for having my fantasy fulfilled, even if it means trying to coax a modicum of talent out of a TV comedy sitcom actress past her prime. God knows, I’ve had to deal with worse. ”
Hearing voices around the bend ahead, she slowed her pace as two women came into view.
One was the blonde whom Ruthie recognized as Madeline Whitley.
The other woman was a bit shorter, with cropped dark hair and glasses, who seemed focused on ensuring Madeline didn’t stumble or fall.
Great. She brought a fan club of one with her.
Save me from actresses and their egos. Not bothering to hide her eye roll, Ruthi stopped as the two women came near.
“Hi. You must be Ruthi Shay. I recognize you from your pictures. I’m Madeline Whitley,” the blonde said pleasantly, extending her hand. “This is my assistant, Kel Lehman. I’m looking forward to shooting this commercial with you. The Solis Foundation is such a good cause, isn’t it?”
Uninterested in making friends or wasting her time on pleasantries, Ruthi was direct, ignoring Madeline’s outstretched hand.
I’m not looking for a new bestie, honey.
“Ms. Whitley, you know as well as I that shooting this commercial together was a condition of being accepted to the island,” she said, clearly shocking Madeline and Kel with her candor.
“To be sure, the talent I seek in my film work as opposed to your… aptitude, shall we say,” her lip curled slightly, “are as different as night and day. Therefore, I think we can dispense with the chitchat since we most assuredly would not be working together were the circumstances different. Unfortunately, I have been provided with no details on the shoot as of yet, so I’m waiting for either Ms. Leighton or her assistant Antonia to contact me.
Once they do, we can begin. I should warn you, I’m a stickler for punctuality.
Coming late to my set never ends well for anybody. ”
Ruthi stepped around Madeline and Kel, who were still somewhat frozen by their encounter. “I’ll be in touch,” she said as she continued on toward the lagoon, leaving a stunned Madeline and Kel behind.
Madeline blinked, still staring in the direction Ruthi Shay had gone, though the director had long since vanished around the bend.
Her brain was still catching up to what had taken place.
Did that really just happen? Madeline wondered.
Did I just get verbally shanked by a woman wearing combat boots and contempt like bad perfume?
She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath until Kel nudged her elbow. Madeline exhaled, sharp and shaky.
“Well,” Kel said, neutral as ever, though Madeline didn’t miss the slight edge in her voice. “That was... something.”
Madeline tried to laugh, but the sound came out fractured. “I think I just got eviscerated with a glance and a sentence fragment.” She rubbed at her jaw, as if trying to scrub the sting of it off her skin. “Jesus. I haven’t felt that small since... I don’t know. High school theater auditions?”
The air around them was impossibly perfect.
Warm, jasmine-sweet breezes threaded with the rustle of palm fronds, but it all felt distant, like a movie set she’d wandered onto by mistake.
A little beyond the curve of the path, the lagoon glimmered.
A white heron stood elegant and unbothered at the edge of the water.
Of course there are beautiful birds here.
Because this place is a postcard. A fantasy, Madeline thought.
And I’m the joke scribbled on the back. Her eyes locked on the large, magnificent bird as it scanned the water.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away. It was so unfair.
Nature gets to be beautiful without trying.
Without hustling. Without auditioning for it.
And here she was, standing in a place that should’ve made her feel alive, but instead made her second-guess her entire existence because some emotionally unavailable movie director couldn’t be bothered to fake basic civility.
Aptitude. The word echoed again in Madeline’s mind. She swallowed, throat tight. “God,” she murmured, barely above a whisper. “Maybe Jennie was right.”
Moving in front of her, Kel cut off Madeline’s view of the lagoon. Her stance was steady, arms crossed lightly, glasses hiding her expression. “No,” she said, firm. “Jennie was never right. About anything.”
Madeline blinked, surprised by the intensity in Kel’s voice.
It wasn’t only support. It was protection.
Like Kel would’ve thrown herself between Madeline and Ruthi if she could’ve.
But still, Madeline thought. She’s only an assistant with no power.
“You saw her, Kel,” Madeline said. “She looked at me like I was a nuisance. A waste of her time.”
Kel didn’t flinch. “She looked at you like she didn’t know you.”
Rubbing her face, Madeline gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, maybe she does,” she said. “Maybe she sees what everyone else sees. That I peaked in a laugh track. That I’m some washed-up punchline who doesn’t know when to leave the party.”
She turned away, back toward the lagoon.
The heron was gone. She sighed. “I used to love it. Being on set. Even when the scripts were garbage and the guest stars couldn’t remember their lines.
I loved the rhythm. The noise. The crew.
Being someone else for a while. Someone funny.
Charming. Someone who mattered.” She paused, swallowing against the burn in her throat.
“But now? I don’t know what I’m chasing anymore.
Respect? Relevance? A second act that doesn’t involve sitcom TV or selling teeth whiteners on Instagram? ”
For a beat, neither woman spoke. Then, Kel shook her head. “Maybe it’s not about chasing,” she said finally. “Maybe it’s about remembering why you started.”
Madeline let the words sink in, but they didn’t settle easily. She wanted them to, wanted to believe it was that simple, but the doubt had roots now. Deep ones. “You make it sound easy,” she said, not accusing, simply tired.
“It’s not,” Kel replied. “But it’s possible. That’s why we’re here, right?”
Nodding slowly, Madeline tried to ignore the tightness in her chest. “Right.” She took a long breath. “I’m not going to let one emotionally constipated director ruin this for me.”
“Now you’re talking,” Kel said.
Taking one last glance at the lagoon, Madeline turned on the path. “Come on,” she said. “You said we’re meeting Ms. Leighton soon?”
Kel checked her watch. “Ten minutes. Do you want to stop by the room first?”
Madeline took a deep breath. “No. Let’s go meet the woman behind the curtain.”
Kel walked with Madeline along the path to the main house, thinking the whole time about punching Ruthi Shay in the face.
Just once. Not hard enough to break anything, Kel wasn’t reckless, but hard enough to wipe that smug expression off her face.
Who the hell talks to someone like that?
she wondered. Who meets Madeline freaking Whitley and acts like she’s an inconvenience?
A speed bump on the way to some self-important artistic epiphany?
Her jaw clenched. She had watched Madeline spiral after less.
Ruthi’s words had been a grenade lobbed directly at Madeline’s self-worth.
And Madeline is still piecing herself back together from the last one Jennie threw.
They reached the front steps of the main house.
The building was striking with whitewashed stone, dark wood beams, and open-air balconies.
Gauzy curtains billowed, catching the breeze.
Kel had Googled it before they came, of course, but there had been almost nothing about it online.
Not even a picture of the house in front of her.
At the top of the stairs, a staff member in a sleek cream uniform opened a set of double doors and gestured for them to come in. The cool air inside the house was a relief after the walk. The entryway featured polished teak and high ceilings, the scent of lemon oil lingering in the air.
“This way, Ms. Whitley,” the staff member said, leading them down a hallway lined with art Kel didn’t recognize but appreciated anyway. Everything about the place was elegant. Not a single thing out of place.
They stopped in front of a wide double door with a brass handle shaped like a palm frond. “She’s expecting you,” the staff member said, then disappeared down the hall.
Kel turned to Madeline. “I’ll wait out here.”
“No.” Madeline’s voice was edged with a touch of insecurity. She turned, eyes meeting Kel’s with something close to panic. “Come with me.”
For a beat, Kel hesitated. It wasn’t her meeting.
She was the assistant. But Madeline didn’t look like she was ready to do this alone.
Kel nodded. “Okay.” She reached for the door and pushed it open.
The office was a study in power and restraint.
Tall windows let in lots of light. A massive desk sat at the far end, and behind it stood Ms. Leighton.
With all her research, Kel had seen a single picture of the woman.
Grainy and low-res, the kind you had to squint at, and it hadn’t captured her presence in the least. She was smaller than Kel expected, maybe five-three, but she radiated the kind of command that made people straighten their spines without thinking.
Her white-blonde hair was swept back in a sleek twist, and her tailored linen suit looked like it cost more than Kel’s car.
“Ms. Whitley,” Ms. Leighton said, offering a warm smile. “Welcome to the Isle of Dreams.”
“Thank you for having me,” Madeline said softly.
Ms. Leighton’s gaze shifted to Kel. “And you must be Kel Lehman.”
Kel nodded, surprised. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. I like to know who’s supporting my guests.”
There was a flicker of approval in her eyes.
Kel wasn’t sure what she’d done to earn it, but she’d take it.
Another presence stirred in the room, and Kel turned to see a tall Black woman standing by the window.
She didn’t nod, didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to.
Her presence was enough. Dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to her elbows, she looked like she could disarm a bomb and then host a wine tasting without breaking a sweat.
Holy cow, Kel thought. The two of them together is.
.. intense. Ms. Leighton gestured toward the seating area by the windows, where a low table was set with a carafe of water and two glasses.
“Please, sit,” she said. “I won’t keep you long.
I know it’s been a long journey.” Kel waited until Madeline moved first, then sat beside her on the edge of the plush couch.
“I wanted to personally welcome you,” Ms. Leighton continued. “And to give you a bit more clarity about the project you’ll be working on while you’re here.”
Madeline leaned forward slightly. “Yes, I’ve been wondering. I know it’s for the Solis Foundation, but I wasn’t given many details.”
“That was intentional,” Ms. Leighton said smoothly.
“We find that arriving without expectations allows for more authentic engagement. The commercial will center around the theme of transformation—what it means, how it feels. It’s not a traditional ad.
It’s more of a narrative piece, and you’ll be working with a director who understands how to capture emotional truth on film. ”
Kel’s stomach twisted. She knew what was coming.
“Ruthi Shay,” Ms. Leighton said. Madeline’s expression didn’t change, but Kel felt her shift beside her. “I understand you’ve already met,” Ms. Leighton added, with the faintest trace of amusement. “She can be... direct. But she’s brilliant.”
Doing her best to keep a poker face, Kel bit the inside of her cheek. Now, how does she know that we met? Does she have eyes everywhere? she wondered, but only for a second. But of course she does.
“I want you to trust the process,” Ms. Leighton continued. “Tomorrow will be your first day. It will be simple. Natural. You’ll be playing yourself.”