Chapter 8
The venue for the show was crowded when Emily got there. She predicted as much as most people in this industry liked to be fashionably late. Firstly, because there were always wardrobe malfunctions. Secondly, because most of them were attention-seekers.
Sadly, arriving with that crowd made her no different.
When Emily exited the private limousine, camera flashes instantly went off. All the paparazzi taking pictures of another person scrambled to her presence.
Their lights were blinding.
Her nails dug into her palm as her heart rate accelerated.
Deep breaths, Emily. Deep breaths.
Adorned by a sexy, Valentino red dress, she made her way past the flashing lights. She could tell they were surprised. She knew exactly why. Usually, they saw her in outfits matching the innocent girl they grew up watching on TV. This look was a stark contrast to that.
Talia let them take pictures until a particular reporter started his nonsense.
“Emily, why did you change your mind about appearing tonight? Afraid you’ll lose what’s left of your influence if you don’t show up?”
She tilted her head, not surprised that they still lacked creativity in their questions.
“Okay, folks! That’s enough!” Talia interjected, leading her inside the venue.
“I swear, they come up with the dumbest questions,” she muttered once they were alone.
Emily let out a laugh. “Honestly? I’m more impressed by their consistency.”
The ballroom they entered sparkled with shined floors and chandeliers. Soft jazz filled the space. The charity’s elite donors and influencers were still finding their way to their seats.
Talia tapped her shoulder and pointed in the direction that landed at three o’clock. “There’s our target.”
Her manager was really committing to the whole James Bond theme. She had warned her earlier that she’d treat this like a covert operation.
“Stop watching so many action films!” Had been Emily’s response.
Her eyes dragged over to see none other than Stella chatting up a storm, surrounded by a group of men.
Red.
Talia’s informant had been correct about her dress color.
She’d made sure to wear the same.
“I’ll check if everything’s ready to go. Just make sure she follows you backstage,” Talia whispered before disappearing.
Emily grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter before she made her way over to their “target.”
Catching sight of her, Stella visibly stiffened. She sized her up, her eyes quickly swallowing the outfit she wore.
She smirked when she noticed Stella’s hands balling at her sides.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Her award-winning smile made an appearance after interrupting them.
All the men turned and their eyes twinkled.
“The Emily Pinault! What a lovely surprise! Your team at Starz said you wouldn’t make it tonight. We’re happy to see that isn’t true.”
She was relieved to see they were all familiar faces, men she’d stayed on the good sides of. Directors, producers, investors. A group of six, including Stella. Emily had worked with each of them and knew their names by heart.
“Mr. Dean,” Emily said with a melodic laugh. “You know I wouldn’t miss a chance to see you all. Moments like this where we get to reminisce about the good times are rare, you know.”
The powerhouse behind a casting agency spoke up. “Speaking of good times, when are you planning on coming back to acting? You know I don’t believe a word of what they say about you. You’re the sweetest thing since Pop-Tarts. You’ve never once complained while working under a perfectionist like me.”
“Same here,” Carlson stepped in. He was the director of a film she’d done when she was sixteen.
“Emily’s always been a gem. I can’t believe some people would think otherwise.
Matter of fact, I’d love to have you on this new project I’ve been working on.
I ran it past Mallion, but he turned me down before I even offered you a script reading. ”
Emily tucked a hair behind her ear. The act caught their eyes.
These were all just sweet nothings they fed her.
Yes, Emily had been a “gem” in their eyes, but that was only because every time they’d ordered “jump!” she’d asked, “how high?” Men like them lived and breathed for submission.
She’d been so desperate to be liked by them all, she’d put up with their bullshit for over a decade.
They weren’t good people, but hey, some would say the same thing about her, right?
“I’ll think about it. You know I’m on a break right now.”
“Break that break!” he exclaimed, making the rest of them laugh.
She did too, but for a different reason.
Emily’s eyes had been watching Stella. The woman had faded into the background. And she seemed to not like it one bit. She reached for a glass of champagne, paused, then retracted her hand. Then she ran it through her long black hair.
That’s it. Lose your cool.
Emily put a finger under her chin in faux consideration. “You know what? Maybe I will.”
That caused Stella’s eyes to fly to her in shock.
She made sure to smile at her.
Stella’s eye twitched.
“What do you think, Stella?” Emily egged her on, addressing her colleague for the first time since she’d arrived.
All the men looked to her like wolves, ready to tear her apart if she said different from what they were advocating for.
“I…” Stella looked back and forth, between them and Emily. When the pressure became too much, she squeezed out, “I need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.”
One of the men sucked his teeth in distaste as she stumbled away.
Emily turned to them with a clasp of her hand. “It’s like she’s reading my mind. I also have to go. I’ll see you fine gentlemen later.”
Their eyes sunk in disappointment, but they still allowed her to leave.
“Alright, we’ll let you go. Just don’t forget what we talked about tonight.”
“I won’t,” she reassured.
Emily felt the familiar pang of self-resentment that came with being so performative. It always felt icky, cheap.
As soon as she bent a corner, a voice snarled, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
As expected, Stella hadn’t gone to the bathroom. She was backstage. Ironically right where Emily needed her to be.
She took a step toward Emily. Her usual cheery self was nowhere to be seen. Whenever they had meetings together or ran into each other at the office, Stella was nice…respectful even.
Now she was glaring at Emily with darts in her eyes.
Huh. Zariah was right—again—when she said people could only pretend for so long.
“What do you mean?” Emily played dumb.
Her eyes transitioned to knives. “What I mean is did Jake give you permission to show up here?”
“Do I need his permission to come to an event I’ve been invited to?” Emily asked. “That I’ve always been invited to? If anything, Stella, I should be asking how you’re here.”
The woman’s shoulders squared. “Mr. Hall invited me.”
“Oh really? Because I spoke with Jeremiah and he said he never had any intentions of inviting you. That you and Jake stole my invitation. Why ever would you do something like that, Stella?”
Her expression flickered with guilt then it hardened. “You’re on a hiatus so why does it matter anyway? Mr. Hall is my ticket to being nominated for this year’s awards. So what if I take an invite from you? Are you that selfish that you can’t help a friend out?”
“Friend?” Emily’s laugh was poised.
“Yes, friend!” Stella snapped. “I’ve always been a good friend to you, so why would you come here? Don’t you know people are gonna talk about why both of us are at this event when we said you wouldn’t show up?!”
Emily wanted to speak her mind. She wanted to interrogate her, ask Stella what the big deal was about them being here at the same time, and why it bothered her so much.
Was Stella supposed to be the only one from their agency tonight?
The one everyone was meant to talk about?
Emily guessed as much, since no other talents from Starz were here.
She’d thought it would take more than this to get Stella to spill the beans. But here she was, getting it all out.
It must have been exhausting convincing herself she isn’t at fault.
She made sure her voice was controlled when she replied, “Maybe you shouldn’t have stolen my invitation in the first place.”
A nerve in Stella’s left eye twitched again.
Oh, how that was quickly becoming her favorite form of entertainment.
Stella scoffed, folding her arms. “I had no choice—”
“You did.” The words cut out sharply from Emily.
Stella jerked back. She moved closer, fire rising in her throat.
“You could’ve earned your way here like everyone else.
I didn’t spend years groveling just for people like you to treat it like a joke.
My hiatus? That’s not yours to belittle either.
At the end of the day, I’m still me and it’d be wise not to forget that. ”
Stella’s slim figure shook at the reminder.
Emily’s eyes zoned in on her flat stomach, wondering how far along she was.
A month? Maybe two?
“And come on, it’s not like it’s the first time you’ve done this.” Her tone was terrifyingly light. “Prada. That jog your memory?”
Stella’s face grew hot.
“Emily,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “You’ve lived your entire life getting everything you wanted. And everything you’ve wanted has never been anything you’ve needed. I need this.” Seven words left her, lodging the final nail in her coffin. “So you better keep your mouth shut.”
All this time, she hadn’t noticed the faint hum overhead. A microphone dangled from the light rig. The AV technician Talia had been working with feigned a break, leaving the feed live and linked to the massive projector screens in the ballroom.
Everyone had heard them.
Collective gasps resonated across tables. The guests’ attention were fixed on the stage where, instead of the themed slideshow, the screen displayed the two actresses, completely unaware that everyone was watching them.
Well, one of them was.
By the time security rushed backstage it was too late.
Stella jumped back, asking them what was going on until her eyes caught the equipment above.
She went pale.
Emily took a sip of her drink which had been resting by her side.
Champagne problems, indeed.