Chapter 56 Georgina
GEORGINA
Inwardly, I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate at the sight of Isabel Randolph standing before me. But, outwardly, I manage to keep it together and smile like a normal person.
Reed gestures to me and says, “This is Georgina Ricci, a brilliant writer whom CeeCee has personally tasked with coming up with content for Dig a Little Deeper, in addition to the River Records special edition of Rock ‘n’ Roll.”
“Hello!” I say, a bit too enthusiastically, shaking the pair’s offered hands, and they laugh and say hello.
“Hey, I work for you!” Hannah blurts next to me. She’s speaking to Howard. “I work in your PR department, Mr. Devlin.”
Howard chuckles at Hannah’s enthusiasm. “What’s your name?”
“Hannah Hennessy, sir.”
He smiles graciously, but it’s clear he’s never heard of Hannah in his life. “Come get a drink with me, Hannah Hennessy. While Isabel chats with Georgina, you can tell me all about what it’s like to work for me.”
Panic flashes across Hannah’s adorable face. She grabs Kat’s hand and says, “Sounds great. My friend Kat has always wanted to meet you, too.” And off the trio goes, as Isabel and I move to a quiet corner to talk.
Of course, I tell Isabel I’m a fan, right off the bat, and she thanks me and tells me a couple behind-the-scenes anecdotes about my two favorite movies of hers that thrill me and make me laugh—and, also, make me feel genuinely comfortable and relaxed in her presence.
Or, heck, maybe it’s the massive rock on Isabel’s left ring finger that’s relaxing me and calming my green-eyed monster.
Either way, I quickly decide I genuinely like her.
And that I’m elated at the prospect of interviewing her.
Indeed, as she’s been telling me those anecdotes, I’ve hardly imagined her sucking Reed’s dick at all.
“So, Reed tells me CeeCee is contemplating a ‘Women in Hollywood’ issue of Dig a Little Deeper,” Isabel says.
Ah, sneaky Reed. He set us both up, did he?
He told Isabel that CeeCee is contemplating such an issue while telling me I should pitch the idea to CeeCee.
But rather than being upset with Reed for his maneuverings, I’m only grateful to him.
If this idea could ultimately impress CeeCee, and lure Isabel into giving an in-depth interview to me, all of which might lead to me getting onto the permanent writing staff of Dig a Little Deeper, then I don’t care who might have concocted the idea first.
Obviously, I have no way of knowing if CeeCee would run with the idea of a “Women in Hollywood” issue.
Or, if so, if she’d put Isabel on its cover.
But CeeCee did say she’ll consider “anything” I might submit to her for Dig a Little Deeper.
.. So, fuck it. I decide to run with the idea with Isabel and ask for her forgiveness later, as needed.
“CeeCee was very clear she wanted me to submit interviews for Dig a Little Deeper that will blow her away,” I say carefully.
Yes, I’m letting Isabel assume that conversation was in the context of a special issue, but oh well.
“And I genuinely think we could come up with something amazing together. Something that shows a new side to you.” As an example, I tell her what I’m doing with Dean Masterson and 22 Goats for Rock ‘n’ Roll.
“But for Dig a Little Deeper, we have to go deeper, obviously.”
“Maybe I could give you a tour of my house?” she suggests.
But I’ve already seen her do that exact thing in one of the articles I read about her last night.
“I think we should do something that’s never been done before,” I say.
“With you getting married, maybe I could tag along on a day of wedding planning. We could talk about love, and marriage. Generally and specifically. We could talk about your childhood, and what you saw of marriage growing up . . .?”
Isabel is stone-faced, and I know I’m losing her.
“Or, maybe... is there something you’ve never done before, but always wanted to do?
A hip hop dance class? Knitting? Archery?
Or, maybe, is there something that scares the crap out of you, but you could conquer it for the article?
” I gasp. “Yes! Isabel! You’re about to play a superhero!
That could be our angle. ‘Isabel Randolph. A Superhero Onscreen. All Too Human in Real Life.’”
She’s visibly elated with that last pitch. And suddenly, we’re caught up in enthusiastic brainstorming that concludes with our decision to go skydiving together, even though she’s terrified of heights and they’re most definitely not my favorite thing.
“Oh, Isabel,” I say. “I bet the conversation we’re going to have after you’ve faced down a gigantic fear will be the best interview of your life.”
“Wow, Georgina. Reed told me you’re CeeCee’s favorite, and I can see why.”
“Thank you. That’s so nice.”
“How did you meet Reed, exactly?” she asks. And, instantly, I can tell she’s wondering if there’s something going on between Reed and me.
“Through CeeCee,” I say smoothly. “CeeCee assigned me to write for the River Records issue, as well as for Dig a Little Deeper, so, I met Reed backstage at the Red Card Riot concert. Actually, my boyfriend was super jealous about me hanging out with RCR. He was worried I was going to run off with C-Bomb—their drummer.”
Isabel visibly relaxes when she hears the words “my boyfriend” come out of my mouth.
Which pisses me off, actually, even though that was my intended effect.
She’s engaged, for fuck’s sake! And isn’t Reed nothing but a brother to her now?
Why should she be relieved to find out the reporter hanging around River Records for the summer has a jealous boyfriend?
“Well, C-Bomb is hot as hell,” Isabel says. “I can see why your boyfriend was a bit worried there. I’d certainly do him.”
How about you stick to your fiancé, hon? “Naw, my boyfriend is even hotter than C-Bomb. He doesn’t have anything to worry about. Not regarding C-Bomb or anyone else.”
Isabel looks pleased. Very, very pleased. Which, again, pisses me off.
“How did you meet Reed?” I ask. “You know, way back when, for the first time?”
She sips her drink. “Through a mutual friend.”
And that’s it.
She says nothing more.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
That’s strange. If the mutual friend who introduced Reed and Isabel was CeeCee, as I’m thinking she means, then why not name CeeCee to me, seeing as how I just now said I met Reed through CeeCee?
Wouldn’t it be a natural thing, given the circumstances, for Isabel to say, “What a coincidence! I also met Reed through CeeCee, the same as you!”?
Hmm.
The investigative reporter inside me is suddenly awake and very alert.
“Who was the mutual friend?” I ask casually, trying not to sound like I feel—like a hungry shark smelling blood.
Isabel pauses. Ever so briefly. “Josh Faraday. Have you met him? He’s around here somewhere. He’s one of Reed’s best friends.”
Liar. “Yeah, I met him earlier. How did you know Josh?”
She sips her drink again. “From the party circuit. I met Reed at one of Josh’s parties.”
“And the rest, as they say, is history,” I say brightly.
“Yep,” she replies.
“Life can be crazy that way. You never know when someone you meet at a party will be in your life for years to come.”
“So true.”
Okay, seriously now. What the fuck is going on here? Kat didn’t seem the least bit confused in the pool when she told me, quite clearly, that Reed had brought Isabel to one of Josh’s parties, as Reed’s guest, and then told Josh she was a “rising star” and “someone to watch.”
My mind is whirling. Clacking. Processing. Isabel just lied to me. There’s no doubt about that. And, based on what I saw in that photo of Justin Timberlake, I’m almost positive Reed’s lied to me, too, about the very same topic. But, why? Why, why, why to all of it?
I take a long sip of my drink to hide my scowl, before saying, “I think CeeCee is a person like that for Reed. You know, someone he happened to meet at a party and then she unexpectedly became a deeply important person in his life. Well, correction. He didn’t ‘happen’ to meet her.
Reed actually told me he crashed CeeCee’s fiftieth birthday party to get her to write about Red Card Riot’s debut.
But the fact still remains, after that one encounter, they’ve been genuine, great friends ever since. ”
“That’s a great story,” Isabel says.
And that’s it again. She doesn’t say another word.
She doesn’t say, “Hey! I was at CeeCee’s fiftieth birthday party!
” She doesn’t say, “Hey! Wait! I just remembered that’s the party where I met Reed, not a party thrown by Josh!
” And she certainly doesn’t say, “You want to hear something crazy? My future husband, Howard, was at that same party!”
Quickly, I decide to press the eject button and get myself out of this crazy-making conversation. Because, holy fuck, I’m not going to be able to keep a poker face for much longer.
“Well, I’ll let you enjoy the party,” I say, smiling. “I can’t wait for our interview, Isabel.”
We talk logistics briefly. She gives me the number of her publicist, and we say a warm and hearty goodbye, sealed with a you’re-my-new-best-friend hug.
“Sincere congratulations on your engagement,” I say, pulling out of our embrace. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks,” she says. But her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
With a little wave to me, she takes a few steps into the crowded party, and stops.
She scours the crowd, presumably looking for Howard.
But when her eyes obviously land on him at one of the bars, where he’s talking to several high-profile people from the entertainment business, she turns and strides purposefully away, in the exact opposite direction of her future husband.