Chapter 2
Alan’s Tilted Stage
Fenella
“Hey, Jessy.”
I pick up the call from my agent. Yeah, he’s still my agent, and I still have to answer.
He’s still my friend too, because we already made amends, and I forgave him for what happened in Mexico City.
He’s struggling with his relationship with Mike, and I can’t bring myself to walk away when he needs me.
“Fenella, I’m sorry.” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been crying.
Oh no. What now?
“What’s going on?” I frown.
“It’s a mess, and you were right. It’s all my fault,” he whimpers, words soaked with tears.
“Jessy, what is it? Just tell me.” I already know this is gonna be bad news.
I sit down on the sofa, bracing myself for whatever blow is coming this time. My heart pounds, Jessy keeps crying, and I sit up straighter, straining to catch every word.
“Alan said you turned in your resignation. So he told me to manage your schedule only until your gigs are finished. But when I was putting your agenda together—” his voice cracks, and he breaks down again.
“Go on,” I push, my whole body tight.
He clears his throat, blows his nose into a cloth, and forces himself to continue. “Remember those contracts you signed a couple days ago? It was—” his voice shakes.
“I’m sorry, Fenella. My head’s been a mess. Mike’s been distracting me, and with all the pressure yesterday, I didn’t go through every project carefully. Alan’s been on my ass nonstop, rushing me.” He rambles so fast I can barely keep up.
“No, what did you do?” I groan, patience slipping.
“I signed you up for a condom brand ad.” His voice is full of fear.
“What?! No way…” My jaw drops.
My eyes flick to Laird. He’s in the kitchen, finishing the spaghetti I abandoned. If he finds out, he’ll lose it.
“The concept is a commercial with actors pretending to have sex naked as a couple,” Jessy whispers.
“Oh my God.” I hiss and shoot to my feet.
At this point, it’s not just a possibility anymore. Laird will be furious. He’ll shut me out again. I can’t go through that.
“Alan’s a shareholder in the company, along with Mallory West. So they picked Alan as your partner in the ad,” Jessy wails.
My mouth falls open, breath catching. This just turned into a disaster. Oh no. No, no. I pace the room, biting my nails.
“No, I can’t do it,” I whisper, panicking.
“I know. But Mallory’s gonna paint you as her enemy. She already got all her friends to back the HIV/AIDS prevention campaign through the ad.”
Hearing that, my chest tightens, my breathing turns ragged. My eyes burn, tears swell, and the room blurs. I collapse back on the sofa.
“Jessy…” I say his name, heavy with disappointment and hurt.
“God, I know. I’m screwing up your life again.
I tried to cancel with Alan, but his mood’s still unstable.
” He breaks down again. “He told me he’ll fire me if I mess this up with Mallory.
I can’t lose this job, Fenella. I need the money for my mom’s medical bills.
She—” he sobs, and I just sit there, silent.
Mallory told me she wanted me for a project, but she said it was for a music video. She never mentioned condoms or any social campaign. And now I can’t back out.
Alan. He set this trap long before today. No wonder he was so calm earlier. He knew I wouldn’t be able to refuse, whether I resign or not. He wants to ruin me.
“Ugh, this is all Alan, not you.” I rub my temples, groaning in frustration.
“What do you mean?” Jessy asks.
“Alan planned this. He introduced me to Mallory, pulled me into her circle. After she showed interest, he shoved me into this ad. He knew I couldn’t say no.
And since I resigned, it just got worse—he’s forcing me to finish every signed project unless I pay a massive penalty.
” I slump back, head tilting against the sofa. “I’m screwed. Alan’s destroyed me.”
The second I hang up, Laird walks over, one eyebrow raised. He sets two plates of spaghetti with Bolognese sauce on the coffee table.
“You good?” he asks, brow furrowed, confusion etched in his face.
I stare at him. His emerald-green eyes are so clear now. Those eyes will turn red with anger if he finds out. But we promised honesty, didn’t we?
No matter how ugly the truth is. Even though my chest aches at the thought of killing the mood, I have to tell him. Sooner or later, I’ll need him as my lawyer anyway.
After I explain, he clenches his fists on his thighs. He’s furious, but he holds it in, jaw tight.
“Can we sue Alan for fraud or breach of contract?” I ask.
“Fenella…” Laird drags his hands over his face and stays quiet for a long moment, thinking. “Legally? You’ll lose. The court will say it’s your fault for not reading the full contract. He’s got you.”
“But we’ve been talking about this, and I thought this was the right time to give the resignation letter,” I stammer.
“No. I know you love your job, so I’ve been slowly trying to find the best way to get around that clause without him catching on. That letter just triggered his defense mode and made him more aggressive about whatever he’s after.”
“What does he want?” I frown.
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m still trying to figure out.” He squares his shoulders.
He shakes his head, and I can’t find words until the silence swallows us. Then he gets up, steps onto the balcony, and lights a cigarette.
I curl up on the sofa, knees to chest, face buried, and cry. That’s all I can do to release the weight crushing me.
* * *
“Is this how you treat me? You said you’d protect me.”
I storm into Alan’s office first thing in the morning, my footsteps heavy as I slam my palm against his desk. Jessy hovers nervously behind me, shaking.
“Morning, Fenella. Back so soon. Want some tea?” Alan grins, lifting his cup.
“Cut the bullshit.” I glare at him, jaw tight.
“I’m just being myself, same as always. You’re the one losing it lately.” He shrugs and takes another sip, cool as ice.
I scoff. “Me? You’re the one screwing up my life and my career.”
“No, Fenella.” He sets his cup down with a clink, raises a finger in the air, and waves it, clicking his tongue. “You screwed up your own life and career. I’m the one trying to keep you from going under.”
“Oh right, thanks for cornering me into a dirty project I can’t get out of. Real thoughtful of you.” I lean across the desk, hands pressing into the wood.
“Hey, you signed the contract, not me. Nobody forced you. Did I tie you up and threaten to chop off your pinkie if you didn’t sign? What about Jessy? Did you force her?” He cuts his eyes toward Jessy.
“No, of course not, I—” Jessy squeaks, practically folding in on himself.
“See? Nobody trapped you into anything shady. And let’s be real—Mallory’s campaign isn’t dirty. It’s a global health campaign. It’s for the greater good.”
Hearing Alan talk like that, my mouth falls open and I almost gag in pure frustration. For the greater good? Maybe I’m losing my mind, but his logic never matches his actions.
“I wouldn’t have signed if I knew.”
“You didn’t read? Not even one contract?” He raises his brows.
“How could I when you dumped a pile of papers in front of me?” My voice shoots up.
“That was Jessy, not me.” Alan raises his hands like he’s innocent.
“Don’t you dare blame Jessy!” I point straight at him, teeth clenched.
“Ask him. Did Jessy even read them? Or was he too distracted?” Alan points right back at Jessy, who flinches like a kid caught stealing.
God. He knows he’s got the upper hand, because Jessy already admitted he didn’t really check the contracts. And Alan keeps putting the blame back on me.
“You slipped that contract on me.” I force the words out, still accusing him, though my strength is slipping and my courage is draining away. Alan’s lips twitch as he rises slowly from his chair.
“I told you. Finish the contracts, and I won’t press penalties. Work with Gene, and I’ll make you the world’s biggest supermodel.”
“If it means crawling to you, then I don’t want it.” My jaw locks, but I hold his stare.
There’s still some fire left in me, but Alan bites down on his lip, irritation sharpening his face, his eyes narrowing.
“Listen, Fenella. We gave you everything. Projects, connections, acting classes. All because you asked. And now? You bail on Gene early, you refuse what you signed. Pathetic.”
He circles the desk with long strides until he’s right in front of me, towering, leaning in so close I can see the dark edge in his eyes. He lets out a low snort, his mouth twisting into a smirk.
“Grow up, Fenella. Start acting like a grown-ass woman.”
He whispers it right in my face, his breath warm with the sharp scent of mint tea, but his voice cold enough to cut. I tremble because I know I’ve lost this round. Alan straightens with a smile like he’s already won.
“Now get your shit together and finish what you started. I have a meeting.”
He slides his hands into his pockets, slipping back into that easy, relaxed posture like nothing happened. I bite the inside of my cheek, refusing to humiliate myself any further.
My eyes burn, but I force myself not to cry in front of everyone. The office is buzzing today, and I’m not about to give them a bigger scene. I bolt down the stairs and into the quieter ground-floor restroom.
“Fenella, wait!” Jessy calls after me, but I slam the door shut.
My body gives out. I lean against the door, slide to the floor, press my hands over my mouth, and sob until my chest feels crushed.
Minutes later, I drag myself up, wipe my tears, reapply my makeup. I hate looking miserable in front of people. At least this way, if Alan sees me again, he won’t see me with streaked cheeks. With that resolve, I push myself out of the bathroom.
“Fenella, I’m so sorry,” Jessy says the second he spots me, rushing toward me.
“Let’s go,” I say. “We’re finding Mallory.”
“What? Mallory West?”
“Yes, Jessy. We’re gonna convince her to kill this contract.” I square my shoulders and take a deep breath.