11. Octavia
Chapter 11
Octavia
“ T alk to me tomorrow—at work.” Jake slams the door in the men’s faces. I can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t expect that to work. It’s definitely more of a protest than anything else.
Oh, to be a movie star in demand that can get away with that kind of nonsense.
“Open the door,” I say. “They wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important, I’m sure.”
“You would think that, but you would be wrong,” Jake says. “What they think is important is often really none of their business. ” Jake’s yelling by the end, clearly trying to make sure they can hear him.
“We have the code,” Adam shouts. “We knocked as a courtesy.”
“I’m going to fire my management company,” Jake says. “You’re not supposed to have that.”
“We own that company,” Adam says. “Open. The. Door.”
Jake yanks it open, but he’s not happy. “What’s so important?”
“We don’t actually need to see you,” Stu says. “We’re here to see her , and your sister said she was here.”
Jake tries to close the door again, but they’re already walking through. “You can’t just barge in at night and demand to see her. She’s part of a band you signed, but they don’t have social media clauses.” He folds his arms. “This is inappropriate.”
“Posting our internal video feeds was inappropriate,” Stu says, “and thanks to the blueprint on the new version of the video she posted today, we found her.” He tosses his head at me. “I’m assuming that now that we have evidence of her guilt, she won’t try to deny it any more.”
“Deny it?” I shrug. “I haven’t seen this new video, and I’ve had nothing to do with posting any videos at all.”
Jake’s pulled it up, and he spins his phone around.
I take a step closer so I can see. It’s another video taken from the side—looks like a security camera, maybe. And, of course, it’s Patrice. “Someone really hates her,” I mutter.
“Someone?” Adam rolls his eyes.
Before I can defend myself, Patrice starts talking. Her voice is low, but it’s been isolated. “—course it’s fake, for ratings, right? I just wish the studio wasn’t making me the bad guy every time.”
“So he’s not really dating Octavia? It’s all a publicity stunt by the studio?” I can’t see who she’s talking to, but I can hear the other woman’s voice. I don’t recognize her, but I bet someone will. Her voice is ridiculously nasal.
“Of course it is. You think he’d really date that crispy critter?” Patrice snorts in a very un-ladylike way. “He’s vainer than I am—which is why we’re perfect for each other. Once all this nonsense is past, I’m sure we’ll get back together.”
“ Back together?” Jake’s fingers are twitching on the edges of his phone. “I swear, she’s such a liar. I’m going to kill her.”
“You can imagine that this hasn’t been great for our ratings.” Adam looks quite unhappy. “Who could possibly believe that the studio wants these videos out?” He shakes his head. “We’ve filmed twenty percent of the scenes, and this film’s already dead in the water.”
“It’s only Patrice they hate, though.” Jake’s scrolling. “And as you can see, it’s not fake between me and Octavia.”
“I think you meant Crispy Critter,” I say, unable to resist.
Jake slams his phone down on the counter. “I won’t work with her. I know we’ve filmed twenty percent of the scenes, but I just can’t pretend with her anymore. Not after that.”
Adam wheels around and points at me. “ You did that. Are you trying to get her part? Is that what this is about?”
“You can have it,” Stu says. “If you’ll sign a cease and desist and stop posting internal videos as weapons to force our hand, we’ll give you the role.”
“I would rather die than take that role, or any role in a movie.” I blink. “I’m telling you, this wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with any of it. There’s no way any evidence points to me. I don’t know what you think you have, but maybe they spoofed something?” I don’t even know what that means, but I’ve heard it used about computers before.
“Spoofed?” Stu actually looks amused.
“Maybe someone’s setting you up.” Jake’s brow furrows.
Stu says, “But we found the leak—AJ.”
“You found what?” I sit on one of Jake’s stools. “What’s an AJ?”
“It’s a person, a tech guy,” Adam says. “Are you insisting you don’t know him? Because I’m sure, once we bring you in, he’ll confirm that it’s you he was sexting with on the company server—you even joked he had to send you the files or you wouldn’t. . .” He clears his throat. “You know, you said that you would refuse his advances later.”
“He what ?” I splutter. “You must be kidding right now. You think I’m using my feminine wiles to lure tech guys into doing my bidding?” I point at Jake’s phone. “Did you hear what she said? That’s what most people think when they look at me. I’m not a vixen, luring men into temptation with my body.”
“We have all the messages,” Adam says. “It’s only a matter of time before we can tie it all together.”
“Great,” I say. “Once you’ve done that and you have the right person, let me know.”
“I’m assuming you’re willing to share your phone, then, if you’re sure it has no trace of what you’re saying,” Stu says.
I whip it out of my purse and walk toward him.
Jake intercepts me. “Of course she’s not handing over her phone when she did nothing wrong. It’s your job to prove she knows someone named AJ—which she clearly doesn’t. You don’t get to snoop through her private stuff, and she’s not guilty until proven innocent. This isn’t Russia.” Jake snorts. “Or worse, TikTok.”
“Funny you should mention that. Previously those videos were only posted on YouTube and Instagram, but now the user, gorgeousmonstrosity3, has created an account on TikTok and the videos are trending there as well.” Stu holds out his hand. “Give us the phone, because we’re sure that?—”
“Gorgeous monstrosity three ?” I ask. “That’s a weird name to choose. The song was written by Bea, and sung by me , so I could see taking the name gorgeous monstrosity, or even that I might claim two , but why would I pick three unless. . .” I scratch my chin. “Unless I was the third person to join the group.”
“Or the other two were already taken,” Stu says. “The video’s been up before of you singing it. You competed in that contest.”
“You looked like you had a thought,” Adam says. “Who did you think could be the third person?”
I actually really hope it’s not her, because I like Morgan a lot. I have no reason to think it was her, but she was there the first day, and. . . “Have you looked into Morgan Hadley at all?” I wince. “I know it didn’t really affect her either way. She was still going to be on the album either way, but. . . She’s a great guitarist, and she’s a smart lady, and I can’t imagine she’d do that, but she did make some changes to the guitar line, so she might feel some ownership of the song.”
“You think she might be ‘gorgeous monstrosity three,’ since she joined you two later on.” Adam sighs. “We should have thought of that.”
“Could you call her for us?” Stu asks. “Because as things stand, we’re running numbers to decide whether to shut this project down or try and find a replacement for Patrice. If we still don’t know where the leak’s coming from, we may be safer to just pull the plug.”
Bea would be devastated if that happened. It’s a huge break for her and for me, honestly. “What would happen to Morgan if it is her?”
Stu sighs. “The accounts have generated a lot of. . .interest. We can’t make her shut them down, but we’d make her an offer, like we have with you, to try and encourage her. . .” He clears his throat. “Er, we’d like to have some oversight in the future.”
“But will she be fired?” I arch one eyebrow. “Because she was probably just trying to defend me, if it was her. You heard the things Patrice was saying. I understand why she wanted to do it.”
“No, we won’t fire her,” Stu says, “but she needs to know that some people in Hollywood are hard to work with, and that’s just how it works.”
“So we should let people like that get paid tons of money in spite of being horrible human beings?” Jake asks.
“I try not to judge others,” Adam says.
“As long as they’re padding your pocketbook,” Jake mutters.
“Call her.” Stu points at my phone. “Call her, and ask her if she’s dating someone named AJ, and ask her if she posted the videos. No matter what she says, you’ll be off the hook for now.”
“She’s already off the hook.” Jake frowns. “Innocent until proven?—”
“This isn’t a court of law,” Adam says. “Call her.”
I think about it for a moment, but in the end, we do need to know who’s been posting all these videos. I’d hate for the movie to be cancelled. I dial Morgan.
“Hey Octavia,” she says. “Is it a bad sign you’re calling me so early on date night? Did Jake get called in for some reason? Acting emergency?”
“Sort of,” I say. “Actually, some work people came by and they were asking weird stuff.”
“Oh?” Morgan snorts. “Like what?”
Stu’s gesturing for me to put her on speakerphone.
I glare. “They wanted to know whether I was dating someone named AJ, and whether I had posted the videos about Patrice.” I cringe, and then I hit the speakerphone button. “I thought maybe you might have some insight.”
“Insight?” She swears under her breath. “So you know it’s me. That’s what you’re saying?”
“Why would you do it?” I ask.
“My brother—you never met him, but he’s got a cleft palate, and my family couldn’t afford fancy surgery for him. No plastic surgeon for us, so his scar’s noticeable. In fact, it’s bad enough that no one would sign him as a singer, even though he sounds great.”
“Oh.” I did not expect her to say that.
“I’ve been watching him deal with small-minded bullies like Patrice my whole life.” The way she says her name, it sounds like she’s swearing. “I guess when I told my boyfriend how upset I was, and he mentioned that he’d seen it too, I freaked out.”
“Your boyfriend, AJ?”
She grunts. “Who’s there asking?”
I look up at Stu, and he nods.
“Listen, you’re going to be hearing from some people. I’m not quite sure who.” I grimace, not that she can see me.
“I figured,” she says. “I’m sorry if I put you in hot water, O, I really am.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “I appreciate what you were trying to do.”
“I knew you would,” she says. “But I know it got you some unwanted attention, and I’m sorry for that, too.”
I take her off speaker and drop my voice to a whisper. “They swore they wouldn’t fire you. If you threaten to post more stuff on your site, you can use it as leverage.” Then I hang up.
“Really?” Adam tilts his head. “Leverage?”
Turns out they have pretty decent hearing. “She’s my friend.”
“And you have your culprit,” Jake says. “Which means you can?—”
The knock on the door seems to indicate the Korean’s finally here. I cross to answer. “Hello?”
“Order for Jacob Bishop?”
I quirk one eyebrow.
“Easier name to use,” Jake says with a grin.
“No way.” The delivery man whips out his phone. “You’re Jake Priest.”
“No photos,” Adam says. “Or we’ll sue.”
The boy hands me the bags—how much food did Jake order?—and jets, muttering under his breath. Thankfully my hearing isn’t cat-like, so I don’t hear whatever unkind thing he says.
Jake has them packed out of the apartment within minutes. “We’ll be in touch tomorrow about our options to replace Patrice,” Adam’s saying.
Although he’s nodding, Jake doesn’t stop moving them toward the exit, and once they’re through, he shuts the door.
“You aren’t worried about offending them?”
“Oh, I was,” he says. “Believe me, at first, I was. But the thing is, they push and push and push and eventually, if you let them have their way, there’ll be no Jake left. All that will remain is a shell if you let them carve you out. You learn to push back.”
“Plus, the food’s getting cold.” I point at the bags on his kitchen table.
“We don’t want that. Cold tteokbokki’s gross,” he says. “Trust me.”
He knows how to order Korean. Everything’s amazing. The tteokbokki’s a little spicy and a little chewy, but it’s an amazing flavor, kind of like marinara and teriyaki had a baby they dressed in chili peppers. “What do they call these kind of noodles?”
“Rice cakes,” Jake says. “Funny, right? Better than the crunchy cardboard we called rice cakes back when I was a kid.”
“They still sell that now,” I say.
He cringes.
“Right? You know, I’ve seen this in K-dramas,” I say, “which is where I got the idea for the kimchi with ramen, but I’ve never had it myself.”
“Stick with me,” he says. “I’ll show you lots of things you’ve never seen before.” He leans toward me then, and I almost forget to breathe. His hand reaches for my face, and his big, strong thumb wipes something off the side of my mouth.
I force myself to blink so he doesn’t think I’m a cyborg masquerading as a human, and then I lick my lips.
“Well, I tried to be respectful and keep my distance,” he mutters. “But if you’re licking your lips, that’s too much for me.” He leans farther, farther, and then he grabs the back of my head and pulls me the last few inches. When our lips connect, it’s like I’ve just flown straight down on a rollercoaster. My body seems to step away from my brain for a brief moment and then everything slams back online.
My heart hammers.
My lips swell.
My hands tighten on the edge of the table, and I groan.
His free hand cups my cheek, and he deepens the kiss, and I really lose track of where I am and who I am and. . .then I realize he’s touching my burn.
That thought’s more startling than a bucket of cold water. When I pull back, Jake looks a little confused. “I should go,” I say. “I had a great time, and I’d love to do it again soon.” I grab my purse.
Jake’s nodding as he stands. “Right. We should—putting on the brakes is good. I’ll take you home.”
I shake my head. “I’ll just call an uber. Call me tomorrow?” Before he can argue, I duck out, already clicking yes to the uber. I wave my phone at him. “It’s two minutes away.” The doors ding, and I hop on the elevator before he can object.
The whole way down, I stroke the side of my face to see exactly what it would have felt like to him.
Alien.
Strange.
Like cooled wax.
I know just how foreign it feels, and that’s what worries me.
Because at some point, he’s going to realize that he doesn’t want someone who’s damaged, and the idea of the inevitable end of all this is starting to really hurt.