Chapter 3
Toughen Up
Fenella
“You got her manager’s number?”
Jessy walks beside me, matching my pace right after I hang up the call. His jaw drops when I tell him I called Roger and asked to meet Mallory.
“Yes,” I say as we hurry to my red car.
“When did you get his number?”
“At the after-party in Mexico City. He gave it to me and said to meet him at the bar in New York.”
“Was he cute?” Jessy’s face lights up.
I snort and roll my eyes. “That’s not the point.”
We both climb into the car. Jessy slides into the driver’s seat and starts the engine while I pull up the navigation app for directions.
“We need to catch Mallory at the studio. Her manager said they’re heading to the airport for an international trip in half an hour. The studio’s about a twenty-minute drive, so we’ve got a really small window,” I say.
“Okay, step on it!” he says, and the car lunges forward. Jessy takes the road at a ridiculous speed. Other drivers blast their horns, but he doesn’t even blink.
“Whoa!” I exclaim, gripping the seatbelt.
“I can shave it down to fifteen minutes!” he laughs, eyes glued to the road.
My eyes go wide watching him drive with reckless enthusiasm. The car bolts and snakes left into a narrow alley, then twists into streets I don’t even recognize.
“Jessy! Are you insane? You’re not following the map!” I shout, my heart pounding as we clip past motorcycles, bikes, and pedestrians near the park.
“Just trust me!”
Fifteen minutes later, we pull up outside Mallory’s Greenwich Village studio. Jessy’s driving has bought us those extra five minutes, and thank God no cop pulled us over.
Inside, a receptionist greets us and leads us down a dim hallway hung with photos and paintings, then into a large studio with a smaller recording room tucked behind another door. As we enter, Mallory and Roger look up at the receptionist’s call, and she brightens when she sees me.
“Fenella! Great to see you,” she says, opening her arms. We hug and exchange kisses on both cheeks. I shake Roger’s hand.
“Hey, Mallory, Roger,” I say, returning their warmth with a broad smile. “This is Jessy, my agent.” Jessy enthusiastically hugs them both in turn.
“Oh, hi,” Mallory says to him. “Where’s Alan?” she asks.
“He’s still in an online meeting, so I came ahead,” I say, tossing my hair and feigning annoyance with Alan.
“I’m sorry I can’t spend more time, though I’d love to chat. You could’ve called,” Mallory says, giving my arm a squeeze.
“That’s fine. I prefer meeting in person, and it’s only fifteen minutes from the office. Thanks for fitting me in,” I reply with a soft chuckle.
“So, what can I do for you?” she asks.
“Uh, yes. I wanted to talk about the new product ad and your social campaign,” I say, trying not to sound blunt.
“Oh, yes! Alan told me you signed the contract. Aren’t you thrilled? I’ve been working like crazy getting ready for the launch, and I’m so glad friends are backing me up,” she says, eyes sparkling. God, she’s already this excited about me joining. A twinge of guilt tightens in my chest.
“Here’s the thing, Mallory. Is it still possible to replace the model?” I ask.
“What do you mean? You wanna back out of the project?” Her voice snaps, and a crease forms in her brow.
Oh no. Cold sweat breaks across my skin at her reaction. Her glare makes my heart race the way it does every time I see her. But this time feels different, like she could shoot me on the spot.
“I mean, I’ve seen the ad concept, and I have a friend who’s really keen to be the model. I thought she could step in.” My voice trails off as Mallory stares at me with a skeptical look. I fumble, then sigh.
“Okay, the truth is I’m having problems with Alan. So it would be awkward for me to do intimate scenes with him.”
Technically true, and not a lie. Oh God, help me. The flash of anger in her eyes eases. Her face softens, sympathy replacing the sharpness. My heart hammers as I wait. I straighten, and hold my breath, a sweat trickle down my back.
“You’re both my friends, and I get it. It’ll be tough, but we have a contract and everything’s set.” She takes both my hands and squeezes them.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to go through with it as planned. I can tweak the concept, but I’ve already convinced management, the studio, the producer—everyone—to include you as the model. I don’t think we can change it. I don’t want to, and I need you.”
“Isn’t there another way?” I ask, eyes stinging.
“I’m sorry.” She frowns, then softens again, maybe pitying my miserable face, and adds a gentler line.
“Listen, I hope you don’t bail. Work it out with Alan. He can be a snob, arrogant, and a jerk, but he knows best how to make success out of people. You’ll get there soon. I know it.”
She squeezes my hands while I fight not to cry. I stare at her forehead to keep the tears from falling because her concerned gaze makes me feel absurdly small. She still thinks this is just about Alan and my career, but the truth is I have no real choice.
“It’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out,” I say, letting out a small smile.
“I hope it all works out,” she replies, hugging me and patting my back.
“Mallory, we have to go,” Roger says, and she releases me. They leave, and Jessy and I stay behind with a few crew members in the studio.
I turn to Jessy and stare at him, dazed. My lips flatten into a frown as I struggle to hold back more tears today. I thought I could steer my fate, but the universe isn’t on my side.
* * *
“I don’t wanna give up,” I say from the sofa.
“Yeah, I know,” Jessy whispers.
Even though I keep saying I’m not gonna give up and that I’ll fight to get out of this project, my body language says the opposite; not even a kid would buy it.
I’m curled up on the sofa with both knees pulled to my chest, my chin resting on top, and my hands running over my polished toes like I’m trying to ground myself.
I wish I had the strength to rewind everything, but all I get is regret coming too late. I already put my name down on those damn contracts, and now my whole life’s been one long chain of bad luck I can’t undo.
Jessy sits right next to me, pressing his fingers to his temples, fighting a migraine even after popping a pill, and on top of it all, Mike just called and asked him for ‘a break,’ which only makes everything worse.
“I still don’t get what the hell he means by taking a break. Like, what’s that supposed to be?” I ask, frowning at him.
“Wish I knew. He says he wants some space for a while.” Jessy shrugs, shaking his head like it makes no sense to him either.
“You’re taking space but you’re still exclusive? That’s bullshit.” I shoot him a look.
“Maybe. I really don’t know.” He slumps back, and we both go quiet again, stuck in our own thoughts, while guilt eats at me so hard my chest feels tight.
This is all Alan messing with us, with Mike living under his roof and listening to him, and Alan dangling Jessy’s job like a knife over our heads if this project fails.
“You know what, you need to stand up to Alan, cancel the damn contract, hand back the car and the money,” Laird says as he steps in from the balcony, flicking out his cigarette.
“I already blew like thirty percent of it on clothes and other stuff,” I mumble, biting my lip, realizing I don’t even have enough left to cover a penalty.
“You can borrow from me.” Laird shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“No way. You need that money for Rackers Bite, I’m not screwing with your big project” I shake my head hard, because that’s his future, not a bank for me.
“Rackers Bite won’t tank just because I float you fifty grand.”
“No, Laird. I don’t wanna weigh you and Dave down. You’re already cutting corners as it is.”
He goes silent for a minute before mumbling. “I can hit up my dad.”
“No! That’s worse!” I snap. His relationship with his dad is already a mess, and after the whole thing with Rebecca, asking him for cash would just set everything on fire.
The room goes quiet again. Laird has the contract spread out on the floor, flipping through the deal between Gene, me, and Mallory’s condom brand for the hundredth time.
No matter how he looks at it, I’m boxed in with a cliff on one side and a pack of hyenas on the other, no way out that doesn’t destroy me.
I look over at him leaning against the balcony door, eyes narrowed at the clock on the table, fingers tapping against a cigarette box.
I glance back at Jessy beside me, who’s even worse off, gnawed by migraine and anxiety until he’s literally biting the sofa cushion like he’s losing it.
It’s all on me, my responsibility. I shouldn’t drag them down with me.
“What are we even scared of?” I suddenly blurt, my voice sharp enough to jolt both of them out of their daze. “It’s just an ad, that’s all, I’m just a model following a script.”
“How can you say that? The concept’s sleazy as hell. You want me to watch you fake sex with Alan on camera for the whole world?” Laird growls.
“It’s acting. I’m not actually sleeping with him. How’s that different from Hollywood movies?” I square my shoulders.
“You’re the one who said you wouldn’t back down. So what’s this?”
“There’s no other way. Do it once, get it over with, then move on. By February I’ll be clear, Jessy keeps his job, my name stays clean, and you don’t have to watch the damn thing,” I ramble.
“You think Alan’s just gonna let you walk away that easy? You’re being na?ve, Fenella. He’s got more lined up, stuff you haven’t even seen coming. Next thing, he might try to set you up to actually sleep with him,” he snaps, slamming the cigarette box against his palm.
“Yes, Fen, this isn’t worth it,” Jessy adds, nodding, eyes wet as he wipes them fast.
“But there’s no other way. You still can’t figure it out, can you?” My voice cracks as I plead.
He goes quiet again, just fiddling with that cigarette box while I sink back into the sofa.
As much as I hate it, he’s right. Alan’s been two steps ahead this whole time, laying traps we never even noticed, counting on me and Jessy to miss the fine print.
He’s building this so I’d have to choose between my career or my sanity, and either way, he wins.
But I can’t let Jessy go down with me. He’s my best friend, my agent, and with his mom in cancer treatment, I can’t let him get fired and lose everything. Alan knows that, and he’s using Jessy as my weakness.
“Alright. If you wanna finish the project, I won’t fight you. And I’m not watching it either. I’ll just suck it up,” Laird finally says, breaking the heavy silence.
“You serious?” My brows pull tight.
“Didn’t you just ask for that? Do it once, finish it, Jessy keeps his job, you don’t pay a fine.” He nods like it’s settled.
“But?” I press, because I know he’s holding back.
“Alan’s good at this because he studies you. He knows your moves inside out.”
“Wait, are you saying he’s been stalking us? That doesn’t make sense,” Jessy blurts, his jaw dropping.
“I don’t know yet. But I know he’s playing old-school war games. Know your field, win the battle.” Laird’s eyes spark as he gets to his feet.
“He’s been hitting us blind this whole time. He knows us, but we know nothing about him. We don’t even know if he’s related to Amy, do we?” he turns to me. I puff out my cheeks and sigh.
“He’s never gonna admit it. So we dig. We find out how he runs his business, his family, his circle, everything. Once we know, we hit back.” His hand cuts through the air like he’s giving a speech, and for a second I’m actually sold on it.
“How do we hit back?” I ask.
“We find leverage. Something he can’t afford to lose.”
“You mean blackmail?” Jessy breathes.
“But he’s got dirt on me too. What if he reports it and I end up in jail?” My fists clench tight on the sofa cushion.
“If he spills that, he goes down harder than we do. He’s too much of a coward for that.” Laird shakes his head.
“So, what’s the move then?” My throat goes dry as I ask.