Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
“N ow Ainsley, are you sure about this?” Diana checked again.
She nodded, although she wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Zac’s kindness, his compassion, his offer to pray for her. How could she push away this man who was her friend?
Her impatience with unimportant things like the Christmas movie kept spilling out in more mistakes, which meant prolonged shooting. She longed to visit Aunty Win on the island again, but when was that going to happen? She needed the zoning sorted out yesterday. She needed Zac to stop being so nice to her. Pressure was building inside and out, and it wouldn’t take long before something snapped.
So to do this today, to have the chance to escape those things that felt impossibly hard and unreal with something that felt meaningful and good, felt like a God-given gift.
“I’m sure.”
Glenda was driving the van again, and the other ladies were the same as last time. Ainsley had opted for a slightly less casual look this time. She figured it probably didn’t hurt for Christians to not appear like they all thought makeup was of the devil.
Just like last time, they waited for admittance by the bouncer and were escorted straight to the dressing rooms. She recognized Destiny, and some of the other ladies, and asked about their Christmas and New Year’s events.
One of the women looked at her a little more closely. “You know, you look a little bit like that woman.”
Uh-oh. Ainsley ducked her head. “I think I have one of those faces.”
“The one who kissed Zac Parotti–now he’s a hottie, don’t you think?”
“He seems like a nice guy,” she said, as noncommittally as she could.
She caught Diana’s attention, and they swapped roles, and she kept her head down the rest of the visit. But just as they were leaving, one of the women called, “Ainsley.”
She glanced up, and someone took her picture. “What are you doing?”
“It is you. The actress.” Destiny’s eyes narrowed. “Are you here to research a movie role?”
“What? No. I’m here to help.” She glanced at Glenda, saw her frown. “I truly didn’t mean to make anyone upset.”
“We’re not upset,” Destiny said. “I think it’s kind of cool that you’d come here to research a role.”
“I’m not researching a role,” she insisted.
“You want to learn to dance?” One of the other ladies asked, her tassels swinging wildly.
Ainsley looked away. “I… I’m sorry. I should go.”
Oh, she should never have come. She stumbled from the dressing room, forgetting which way they’d come in. Left or right? The right way, obviously. She pushed open a heavy door, then discovered she was in the main area, a dimly lit space smelling of cheap beer, with men seated at a few tables as a woman gyrated against a pole, wearing a bored expression and a few sequins.
One of the men glanced her way and swore. “This one’s wearing too many clothes.”
“Are you new?” Another one asked. He looked like a manager. “Get back there, take off your clothes and put some makeup on.”
“What? No. I don’t work here,” she insisted. “I came with Glenda and the other church ladies.”
He swore. “The do-gooders, huh?” He squinted at her. “Has anyone ever told you that you look a bit like that actress on all those stupid shows?”
Stupid shows?
“You know, I don’t care who you are. You look like you have a good body, so if you ever need a gig, and some real money, then we could probably get you some work here.”
“No thanks. I’m fine.”
She turned abruptly. Then bumped into a broad chest, looked up, and nearly screamed.
Baden Daniels. In the flesh, sneering and leering at her, glancing at her chest. “Well, this is a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured. “Ainsley Beckett.”
She backed away. “Stay away from me.”
“How long has it been, Ainsley?”
“Not long enough.” She glanced around, looking for an escape.
“What are you doing in a place like this?”
“One could ask you the same.”
“You work here now, huh?” he jeered. “Oh, of course not. You’re the one who got away with things while I was the one who carried the blame.”
“That’s because you were the one who seduced me,” she hissed.
“Not so loud. That was mutual consent.”
“You took advantage of me, and then threatened to tell everyone that you’d put doctored pictures all over the internet.”
“And your agent screwed me over. Killed my career. Until now.” He smiled. “Even you can’t stop me now.”
Dizziness threatened to overwhelm her again. He was right. Who knew what he might say? What he might post? What he might do?
He lifted his phone, then took her photo.
“What are you doing?” A different voice called.
She glanced behind and saw Diana drawing close. Diana held out her hand. “You need to delete that picture.”
“No, I don’t.” He frowned at her, like she was an annoying puppy. “Who the heck are you to tell me what to do?”
“Ainsley’s friend. Now delete the picture, otherwise I’m calling the police.”
“Whoa. Someone needs to relax. Maybe someone needs a good time, huh?” He leered.
“You wish. But I don’t. Delete it now. Otherwise,” she pulled out her phone, “I’m calling the police.”
He swore, then tapped the screen a few times and showed them his screen. No Ainsley. “Satisfied?”
“No.” Diana gestured for it. “Let me see your photo files.”
“I’m not showing you my—actually, sure, honey. You have fun with that.” He shoved his phone at her.
“Diana, we don’t have to—”
“Oh, we do.” Diana studied the phone, flicked back a few pictures, then handed it back, taking care to wipe her hand on her jeans. “You need help,” she said to Baden.
“I’m not the one needing help. I can help you, though. I helped Ainsley once.” He laughed.
Diana grabbed Ainsley’s arm and dragged her away, through the front door. Along the way they passed a few other men—and a woman—who gave double takes as they passed Ainsley. As they neared the others waiting near the van Ainsley started shaking.
“Ainsley. Come on,” Diana said. “We’ll get you somewhere safe.”
“I…. he…” God, help me. Help me!
“Ainsley?” Glenda called as Diana drew her near. “Oh, are you okay? We didn’t know where you were.”
“She’s not okay,” Diana said. “Some man inside was harassing her.”
“Oh, you poor thing.”
No. No. She couldn’t cope with their kindness right now. Not when she was to blame. For all of it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, you didn’t know that was going to happen,” Diana said.
“I shouldn’t have c-come,” she stammered. “I’ve wrecked things.”
“You’ve wrecked nothing,” Glenda soothed.
“The man inside called you do-gooders.”
“And what’s wrong with that? I’d much rather be known for doing good, even if I do it imperfectly, than be known for the alternative.”
“Like that man inside,” Diana murmured.
“I didn’t mean for that—oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Ainsley, I don’t know what has happened, but I sense there is a lot more to this story,” Glenda said kindly. “How about we leave here and find somewhere quiet, where we can pray?”
She nodded. Got inside the van. Barely noticed Diana’s hand on hers as Glenda drove to the church.
“We can go inside if you like,” Glenda offered.
“Here’s fine.” The van felt safe. A cocoon. She didn’t want anyone else to recognize her. She’d already done enough damage today.
“Is there anything in particular you want us to pray about for you?”
Nothing in particular, because everything felt wrong right now. “I don’t want to have hurt your ministry. Or…”
“Or what?” Diana asked.
“Or… get in the way. That’s what I do. Like at the White Night gala. It became about me and Zac, instead of focusing on the charity like the coverage should have been. And now if that picture gets posted I’ll be mocked and so will the ministry and—”
“God has got this, Ainsley,” Glenda said. “None of this has taken Him by surprise.”
Then why hadn’t He done something to stop it?
Those words kept floating around her mind as Glenda and the others held her hand, touched her back, and prayed for God to have His way. With the dancers they’d visited today, with Ainsley that God would keep her safe and give her peace, even for Ainsley’s career and fans.
She felt her nose run, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand, sure she looked a mess. But the love surrounding her here meant she didn’t care about her face. Not too much, anyway.
“And Lord, we know that You know all of Ainsley’s past hurts and pain. Thank You that You are the Divine Healer. Heal her, and use her for Your plans. Amen.”
“Amen,” she whispered.
“Ainsley.” Glenda only continued once Ainsley met her gaze. “God can redeem the broken pieces of our lives. Put your faith in Him.”
“I’m trying.”
Glenda nodded. “Just remember, He doesn’t expect His followers to be perfect. Just willing. So keep looking to Him.”
She nodded, but the small measure of composure she’d scraped together was threatening to crumble. Diana seemed to recognize this, and didn’t speak.
By the time she reached Diana’s place she was exhausted. She didn’t want to exit the car. She couldn’t be Aunty Ainsley right now. She had nothing, not even a smile. She couldn’t pretend. They sat in the car, and Ainsley kept her eyes closed.
“Who was that man?” Diana eventually asked.
She knew she’d be asked. “That was Baden Daniels. An ex. He was an actor.”
“He doesn’t like you.”
“When my agent found out what he’d done, she made sure he didn’t get work for years.”
“What did he do?” Diana’s voice was a whisper.
Ainsley breathed in slowly, released it even more slowly. “I was young, it was my first real paying role, and he was one of the more established actors on the set. He made me think he cared, and I,” she swallowed, “and I…”
Diana’s hand grasped hers. “He took advantage of you.”
“I was so young and naive. But it made me determined to never be taken advantage of again, so I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Being taken advantage of is never a good thing,” Diana said softly.
Fresh tears slipped from her eyes. Great. She wiped them away angrily.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Ainsley. You’ll be in my prayers.”
Diana’s kindness wrapped around her heart and gently squeezed. “Th-thank you. And I’m sorry you had to witness any of that.”
“I’m not. I’m glad I was there to help.”
“Do—do you think that Destiny will post that picture of me?”
“She deleted it when Glenda asked her to.”
“Thank goodness.”
“I just hope…”
“What?” She peered at Diana.
Diana shook her head. “We’ll keep praying that God protects you.”
“Thank you.”
God needed to. Because she was so weary she couldn’t fight for herself.
* * *
He’d been hoping against it, but really shouldn’t have been surprised to get home that afternoon after training and discover a message canceling their planned date tonight.
He leaned his head on the steering wheel and exhaled. Maybe this latest Ainsley excuse stemmed from another feeling of overwhelm, like what had happened previously when she’d visited the “dancing ladies” as he preferred to call them, not wanting to let the phrase “strip club” accidentally tumble from his mouth. And while logical him knew that, and knew she was feeling pressured on many sides about many things, an increasingly insecure part of him suspected she was looking for any excuse to push him away. Which made him second-guess himself, and whether he’d misread this whole thing. And that she’d actually meant it when she’d said they were together for social media purposes only, to clean up both of their reputations.
Was that why he’d agreed to this stupid fake relationship? He could barely remember his motives, but had a funny feeling this was supposed to be about God giving him time to figure out how to do a godly relationship, to not let his heart get entangled. Well, while he might’ve figured out a few things on the first, that last sure hadn’t worked. His heart was jungle-deep in conflicting hopes and desires, most of them to do with Ainsley.
“God, I need you.”
He needed clarity. Peace. Wisdom. Grace.
His phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen. Chris.
He didn’t want to answer it. Like, really didn’t. But stretched to tap the screen and activate speaker mode.
“Good, I got you,” Chris said.
Zac closed his eyes. “What do you want?”
“Now, now. No need to be like that. I just wanted to give you a heads-up about the date you mentioned you were planning for tonight that your girl might not be in a great headspace right now.”
His eyes snapped open. He straightened. “Why? What’s happened?”
“Look, Diana isn’t wanting to spill all the tea, but she said Ainsley had a shock today—”
“Shock? What kind of shock?”
“She didn’t say. Just said that Ainsley was really upset, so you might need to give her a little bit of space.”
Everything within him wanted to drive to her place and find her, hold her, help her. But… “She wants space? What does that mean?” Not see him right now? Probably. Not see him ever again? The way things were going, it felt like giving her space wasn’t going to be a problem. She created enough distance between them on her own.
“I don’t know, man. I’m just the messenger. You should ask Diana, except she has just taken Faith to her first dance class. Apparently she wants to learn to dance like Luc’s Bailwey,” he said, in a little-kid lisp.
“Is she at home?”
“I just said she’s taken Faith to—”
“No, I mean Ainsley.”
“Dude, I still don’t know. She’s your fake girlfriend. You need to figure it out. Hey!”
A loud crash ended the call, and Zac was left staring at his phone.
He called Ainsley. She didn’t pick up. He composed a message, then hesitated. Did giving her “space” mean not sending a text too? Or would she regard a lack of message from him as uncaring?
Too bad. He pressed send. Saw it was delivered. But nothing to indicate it was read.
What should he do? More importantly, what had happened that had shocked her?
He called Diana, but had to leave a message, asking for her to call him back. So the waiting game continued. He had an online meeting with his agent in thirty minutes, so he couldn’t do much else.
Except pray , a voice seemed to suggest.
Huh. Maybe that was the Holy Spirit, getting inside his head. Regardless, it was a good idea. So he prayed for her, that God would comfort her and give her peace, and help her with whatever it was that was making her sad.
Tension knotted within. She might want her space, but the urgency to check on her grew. She hadn’t been okay for a while, but she wouldn’t… No. That was too much. But it would ease his mind to know she was alive, at least. She wasn’t answering her phone, so was she even at home? Or at her folks’? Or had he heard her mention something about how they were spending time with Winifred on the island? Maybe she’d gone there too.
Lord, what do I do?
An idea stole to awareness. Okay, there was at least one way to find out if she’d made it home, and was alive at least.
He locked the car, pulled down his baseball cap, and jogged the block or so to her apartment building.
It was funny how much a face could transform in an instant. Michael, the doorman, brightened up at warp speed once he recognized who was asking for admittance.
“Mr. Parotti himself!”
“You can call me Zac.” He’d said that a number of times before.
But Michael shook his head. “I can’t do that. That would feel disrespectful.”
Maybe one day he’d relax.
“Now, what can I do for you?”
“I was just worried about Ainsley. Miss Beckett, I mean.”
Michael didn’t seem to notice his tease. “She got in over an hour ago. She looked really tired though. Have you tried calling her?”
“She didn’t answer. And look, it’s probably nothing, and she probably is just tired. But I wanted to make sure she was here, and was okay.”
“You don’t think she’s in any danger, do you?”
“No.” Zac sure hoped Chris’s reference to a “shock” didn’t mean that. Man, he hoped Diana called him back real soon. “Look, if I got something delivered here, would you be able to make sure it goes up and that she gets it?”
“Are you asking me to check on her and let you know?” Michael said slowly.
“Not necessarily, but if you happen to notice and could let me know, it would relieve my mind.”
He nodded. “And this delivery?”
Zac pulled out his phone. Found a nearby flower delivery service. Added some extras.
“Aww, flowers. Hey, want to write a note yourself?” Michael opened the desk drawer and pulled out a white notepad and pen. “There you go.”
He wrote a note, then folded it and tucked it inside the envelope Michael slid his way. “Thanks.” He then scribbled his phone number and passed that to Michael, who looked like he’d been given treasure.
“Okay. Well, I’ll do my best to let you know, about, ah, the other thing.”
“Thanks.” He wondered if he should offer more hockey tickets as thanks or whether that would look too much like a bribe.
Michael eyed him. “You’re different to all the others.”
“The others?”
“All the other guys she went out with. I could tell she likes you best, but you really care for her too, huh?”
“I really do.”
“Good. She needs someone who cares. I think she’s been lonely for a long time.”
He pushed back his shoulders. “I want to make sure she’s never lonely again.”
By the time he’d returned to his condo and done his Zoom with his agent he found a missed call from Diana, but more importantly, a thank you text from Ainsley. It literally was a thank you text with just those two words, which he took to mean she had received the flowers.
It wasn’t until later, just as he’d fumbled between praying for her, watching sports on TV, and contemplating dinner, that he got a notification from Drew.
Dude. Have you seen this? Is there something your girlfriend isn’t telling you?
He clicked the link, and it opened into something he’d promised God he wouldn’t look at. Was that—Ainsley?
What the dancer wore barely counted as a bikini, and the bikini barely covered her, ahem, assets, but it was her face that drew his attention. Ainsley’s face. Smiling, just like at the White Night gala.
Whoa. That hairstyle, that makeup, those earrings. It was Ainsley’s face from the gala. But she definitely hadn’t been wearing that .
Dear God. Who had done that? Who could be so cruel as to deepfake a photograph to suggest Ainsley was a stripper? Had someone sent that to her? Had she seen it? What could he do?
“God, I need help.”
So he called Chris and asked him to pray.