Chapter 37 – Willa
THIRTY-SEVEN
WILLA
On Monday, two days after I fled the city, Gabe drives me to the Perfect Image offices. The closer we get, the more anticipation brews in my chest, familiar to how I felt months ago—nerves, excitement, and a hint of resentment—though all now experienced through a much different lens.
When we pull up, and I spot photographers waiting outside, the scene feels both familiar and unexpected.
“Who gave them the heads up?” I ask, and Leo smiles from beside me, his hand tight in mine.
I woke up in his bed in Holly Ridge, and he made love to me before we took a shower together.
Nat came over with coffee and bagels and helped me get ready in full Willa Stone glam.
I have on a full, perfect face of makeup, my blue contacts, and the platinum wig, this time styled in soft waves down my back, but instead of black or white or beige, Nat directed me to wear a pretty burgundy dress with a pair of over-the-knee dark brown boots I’m borrowing from her.
It’s exactly the shield and confidence boost I need for today’s meeting.
"I did. No need to hide," Leo says.
I grin and shake my head. The car stops in front of the building. Butterflies erupt in my chest—not the happy, love-induced kind, but sharp, nervous ones. Their presence makes me momentarily doubt how the next two hours will unfold.
Leo squeezes my hand. "Ready?" He searches my face. I nod. "Do you need a minute? Did you do your routine?"
His eyes meet mine, and my chest fills with gratitude for his support—and for how well he understands me and my needs. He knows me better than I could ever express.
The truth is, I will never be able to thank Leo Sinclair for what he has given me over the past few months.
Not a dozen first-time experiences and the promise of a million more, if I want them.
Not elaborate dates or grand gestures or small moments of love.
But the grandest gift Leo has given me is the gift of me.
Leo, whether he realizes it or not, gave me myself back, and I will never be able to fully thank him for that.
So, for the first time in years, I don’t need to prepare when I step out or put on a shield.
I don’t panic about being perfect because Willa Stone is just an extension of Just Willa, more extravagant, but still me.
Both versions are deeply loved by Leo, my friends, and my chosen family, so I don’t care if the cameras find my flaws.
Because I have people in my life who love me, not despite those imperfections, but because of them.
So I shake my head, feeling steady. When Gabe opens the door, we walk in past the cameras, smiling and waving without hesitation.
The questions shouted from outside barely graze my attention, and I move quickly and efficiently into the building.
Leo kisses me quickly in the elevator, fingers twining with mine.
When we get to the offices, the receptionist gives us wide eyes, but says nothing as we walk to the meeting room.
Jackie and Jefferson are already waiting, as requested.
Leo closes the door behind us, and Jackie stands quickly, her face transformed by the worried mask of a mother.
There was a time I would have seen it as genuine, but now I know nothing about Jackie; nothing can be trusted. I thought I created my masks and personas as protection, but I recently realized she taught me by example how to craft what people wanted most from me.
“Willa, my goodness, I was so worried,” she says, moving towards me. “What happened?”
She pulls me in for a hug that I don’t return, something she seems not to notice.
After Leo and I had time together Saturday night, we let Gabe call Jackie.
He told her he found me, but said I was having a hard time and wanted to be alone.
He assured her I was safe and that I’d meet her at Perfect Image on Monday to discuss a revised plan.
Then, Leo spread the word that I’d gotten sick, which is why I didn’t show up at the charity gala.
We hunkered down together during all this.
She has no idea what has been going on over the past few days or the firestorm I’ve brought with me today.
She pulls back and scans me, her face twisting with irritation. “What are you wearing?”
I roll my eyes. I step toward the table, sidestepping her. I’m done with this act.
“Enough, Jackie. Sit down,” I say.
Leo lets out a laugh that he hides behind a cough beside me. I look down my nose at the woman I trusted with everything, only to find out later that my trust was wholly misguided.
Leo pulls out a chair for me before sitting beside me. Jefferson and Jackie sit across from us. It’s almost like a divorce mediation in some comedy. Honestly, it’s probably the most accurate description of what is about to happen.
"Willa—" Jackie begins gently, concern etched in her voice, but I reach into my bag, pull out a folder, and place it on the table. I fold my hands over it, fixing her with a blank stare that halts her words.
"What was the plan?" I ask after a moment. "For the next press cycle. Because it's become very clear to me that you had a plan, and I was not aware of it."
"The...plan?" Jackie asks, and for a split second, I see it there—a flash of nervous energy. Panic.
Good.
She has a reason to be worried. Given what I’ve learned in the past two days, she has every reason to be anxious.
“The, um, plan? The plan is,” she moves to the notebook before her, flipping pages and stuttering a bit.
“To date Chris from August 20 through February, in preparation for your album release that we will be announcing in January.” We would be doing no such thing.
“I don’t understand what is going on, I–”
“Chris seemed pretty sure I was going to marry him.”
Jackie’s eyes dart away, shifting to Jefferson. He nods, as if giving her permission to speak.
"I did become aware of that intention of his. I'm not sure where he got that idea," Jefferson says, voice fake and almost fatherly. “I am very apologetic over this miscommunication, and I want it to be clear that we had no idea that was something Chris was contemplating.”
“Jackie did. She suggested it,” I say bluntly, turning to my manager. "Multiple times. Each time, I argued it would not happen."
Leo’s hand reaches under the table to rest on my knee.
This weekend, I finally filled him in on everything I had been holding back since we separated.
He understood why I kept quiet, but he made me promise never to do it again, a promise I quickly and willingly made.
While I don’t think things would have been any different if I had told him earlier, it would have been less stressful.
I wouldn’t have felt like I was gaslighting myself into believing things were normal when they clearly weren’t.
"It was just a suggestion, of course," Jackie says, waving her hand.
I tip my head and narrow my eyes because we both know that’s a lie. I let it go.
"Imagine my surprise when he entered my room Saturday," I say. "He told me that if I didn’t accept his proposal that evening, he would release private and sensitive photographs to the press." The room goes quiet. "Where could he have possibly gotten those photos from?"
My eyes lock on Jackie.
“I don’t—” she starts, and anger swirls in me at her immediate denial.
“Where did he get the photos from, Jackie?”
“If I can interrupt,” Jefferson says, looking at me with pity.
“I spoke with Chris, and he informed me that he was given those photographs directly from Leo.” His eyes shift, and he gives Leo a smug smile, “I already have paperwork written up to fire him once this meeting is over, but I wish for you to know that Perfect Image takes blackmail extremely seriously, and we will ensure that the publicist who takes over your account when he is gone will be one you can trust. In fact, Jackie and I agreed that I am the most qualified to personally take over the Willa Stone brand.”
I turn to Jefferson blankly.
“I’d rather choke, but thanks,” I say with a tight smile.
Leo does, in fact, choke out a laugh. This time, he doesn’t bother to hide it.
“But I do find that information interesting—and directly contradictory to what I learned. Since my privacy was so deeply violated, I had Jaime Wilde of Wilde Security recommend a team. They conducted a full inspection of all my tech and checked for weaknesses and breaches. That team included a digital specialist who audited my phone and my digital cloud’s history.
They found that an IP address accessed and downloaded files from my cloud on Wednesday.
He used some questionable methods to trace the IP address to its source.
To your credit, Jackie, you did try to hide it. ”
I open the folder, pull out a paper with the report findings, and slide it across the table, Jackie’s address highlighted in bright yellow.
Her face goes pale. My stomach churns, though I hide it behind sass and attitude.
I shift towards Jefferson and give him a copy of the same paper with a sickly-sweet smile.
“Unfortunately, these findings aren’t valid in court, due to their unconventional method of retrieval.
Still, the team is confident that, with a warrant, they could do it by the book.
Either way, it’s clear Jackie downloaded the photos via my cloud using her access to my calendar and email, then handed them to Chris.
That connection was easier to make because the unsaved number Chris sent messages from matched Jackie’s assistant’s area code and the first three digits of her cell number.
I could only memorize the first six in those moments.
While I can’t say for certain without further investigation, I’m confident my assumption is correct. ”