Chapter 10

Zander

Despite the success of the evening, my father is waiting for me, a sour look on his face as I enter his den.

He’s reclining in his chair, shoes off, and tie undone, and coke and a dollar bill beside him.

I swallow, praying he’s not going to ask me to join him for what I know he’s planning.

I can’t think about Mia, she’s not here, I made damn sure she left even though her ‘friends’ are still here.

He eyes me as I take a seat opposite. “You did well. We may just salvage this yet.”

I nod, choosing my words carefully. “You sound surprised.”

His lips purse. “I wasn’t sure you were up to this. You were so resistant in the past. What changed?”

My gut tightens. I can’t tell him the truth, so I go with an explanation he will understand. “I’ve been thinking about my future.”

He nods slowly, a pensive expression on his face. “Oh?”

I swallow hard and make sure I stay as relaxed as possible. “Hollywood is changing. We need to diversify if we want to stay on top of the game. People are sick of the same old, same old. They want something they haven’t seen before.”

I know that isn’t going to sit well. Jacob Cole dislikes change. He dislikes not being in control, and this was always going to be a hard sell.

“These things work, Zander.”

I’m prepared for this, so I take my time. “What if we could get millions of people to watch a live event with Chrissy and me with all the top social media providers all at the same time?”

He leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. “That’s never been done.”

I nod slowly. “That’s why we need to be the ones to do it. We need to be seen as innovators. As leaders, not followers.”

He narrows his eyes. “To justify the expense, I would have to tell the studio you will have something spectacular.”

I nod. “It would be.”

But that’s not enough. I knew it wouldn’t be. So, I pull out my Ace. “What if I proposed, live?”

His eyebrows rise. “You couldn’t back out. It would need to stick for a while.”

I shrug. “If that’s what it takes. She’s contracted to three movies. We stay together for at least two of those; then we call it quits sometime during the third release.”

He nods slowly. “You’ve thought this through.”

I manage what I hope is a reflective smile. “I want to make amends. I think I can achieve something here. Maybe start working towards rebranding myself.”

He stares so hard; my skin starts to crawl. But I don’t flinch. I don’t move a muscle. I just concentrate on breathing slow and even and keep my face as impassive as possible.

I know if I keep talking, he’ll think I’m trying too hard, so I just sit and let him mull it over.

He lifts his hand as though dismissing me. “The logistics will be a nightmare. I’ll check with PR and see if they think it’s achievable.”

I nod as he gestures to the door. “I have girls waiting. Care to join me? You earned it.”

He hasn’t invited me to his parties, private or public in years. I’m on his good side for the first time in years.

I chuckle and even though I want to vomit I just shake my head and leave him to it.

I’ve already won a battle. I need to pick them wisely or risk losing the war.

***

Mia

Too much of a coward to speak to Sally face to face, I sent her a text and told her I’m moving out.

I’m pretty much packed and ready to walk out the door when my phone rings.

I take a seat on the sofa and squint at the unknown number. My heart starts to thump a little as I answer, still hoping it’s Zander calling to tell me he’s sorry he was such a jackass.

“Mia? It’s Chris. Your mom said you’re coming home?”

Damn it. Why did she do that?!

“Oh. Right.”

He clears his throat. “Look. This is awkward. I’m still seeing Kim.”

I exhale and run my hand through my hair. “I’m not coming home for you. I’m coming home to look for work.”

His relief is audible in his nervous laugh. “Oh, right. Great. Sorry things didn’t go so well.”

I barely acknowledge him. He’s the last person I want to talk to right now. “Anyway. This is my new number. Well, our number. Kim wants to share.”

I snort and have to cover it by coughing. She has every right to share a number with him. He’s a cheating, lying snot. And she is welcome to share whatever she likes with him.

“I’m not going to need to contact you.”

“Sure. Great. Oh, hey. I gotta go. Take care.”

He ends the call with such speed; I have to wonder if Kim isn’t privy to him calling me.

I can’t imagine she’d be happy about him speaking to me. But he’s not my problem, and neither is she.

A few weeks at home to get my bearings, and I’ll decide how to move on from this.

I pick up my laptop bag and sling my overnight bag over my shoulder.

The elevator doesn’t work, so I lumber, clumsily down the stairs until I reach the bottom.

I don’t need to check the mailbox. Everything is getting redirected to my mom.

I head out the doors onto the street and inhale some of the smoggy air as I walk towards the bus stop.

I’m a few minutes early, so I take a seat, ignoring the graffiti and the homeless woman with no teeth, who I made the mistake of smiling at once.

I avoid looking in her direction in case she spits at me and pull out my phone to avoid any unwanted attention.

I scroll through the news, and wince as Zander’s face appears with alarming frequency.

When I’ve hauled the bag up the stairs and have taken my seat for the long ride out to the airport, I lean my head back and try not to think about the man I’m leaving here trapped in a lie.

But I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s impossible. Seeing him again just stirred up everything I was so desperately trying to deny.

With a sigh, I pull up his IMDB page and start to read through his list of movie credits.

Considering he’s only in his twenties, he has an impressive backlist of starring roles.

I spend a little time looking at his headshots, aawing at how cute he was as a child, then end up spending way too much time looking for news reports about him.

After multiple articles about how much of a party animal he’s been, I find an article from three years ago that makes my blood run cold.

Zander’s picture is alongside a man called Mikey Davis. They’re drunk, on a beach somewhere smiling and doing a thumbs up.

Child actor and one of Hollywood’s bad boys, Mikey Davis, is due to release a tell-all book this fall.

I keep scrolling as I read about how Mikey and Zander have been friends for two decades have worked on multiple projects together and have reputations for partying hard and getting into fights just like Toby said.

Then I find an article published three days after the announcement of the book releasing.

…while Zander Cole has been cleared of any involvement, police have classified Davis’ death as an accidental overdose.

Davis was last seen alive around 11pm on Sunday when he and Zander Cole purchased whiskey from a liquor store.

His body was discovered by his agent early Monday morning.

Zander Cole has been unavailable for comment, but representatives say he is deeply distressed about the death…

Dead. Mikey Davis is dead.

I keep scrolling, looking for more information, and find something that makes me stop breathing.

…in an angry rant on social media, Mikey Davis’ publicly slammed one of Hollywood’s most prolific and regarded directors of child abuse.

Davis stated that Zander Cole and his sister Brooke were terrified of their father and that as children, Zander and Brooke Cole would work grueling 12-hour days…

I keep reading, growing more nauseous as I read about who appears to be Zander’s only real friend who was also as anti-Hollywood as Zander had seemed.

Mikey Davis accuses Jacob Cole of forcing his children to take drugs to stay awake for late-night talk show appearances and parties. Says it's common practice...

My hands are shaking, and I can’t read anymore. Mikey had a long history of being an outspoken party boy who was about to release a book that would expose Zander’s father and probably a lot of other big names in Hollywood.

But the book was never published. The truth was concealed, and a long-time friend of Zander’s ended up dead.

That can’t be a coincidence.

I stare through the grimy window at the Hollywood sign on the hills. From a distance, it’s white, but up close, trash surrounds it, and the white is closer to eggshell.

Toby was right. It’s all smoke and mirrors.

As if he’s on my wave length, my phone buzzes in my hand, and I frown at the reply I’ve just gotten from him.

You sure you want to leave just now? Jacob Cole’s throwing a press conference. Zander’s going to be there. Looks like they’re announcing something big.

I swallow and tap out a reply.

What do you think they are announcing?

Toby’s text comes in instantly.

Not sure. But it’s at The Bev Hills Hotel in an hour. It’s going to be streamed live across multiple social media platforms, which is a huge deal.

I stare down at my phone. Live. A major Hollywood event is going to be streamed live.

My heart starts to thump against my rib cage as all the pieces all fall into place.

I don’t bother with texting Toby; I dial his number and yank the cord so I can get off the bus at the next stop.

***

Zander

I tap my toes in my polished shoes as I wait for Brooke to arrive. She wasn’t supposed to be involved.

It was the studio’s PR guy who had the bright idea to involve her, now I have a few minutes to clue her in and hope she can help.

I’m running on caffeine and adrenaline. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’m supposed to be following a special diet, and I’m supposed to start training for a part I have no intention of playing.

But I’m so nervous; I can’t do any of those things.

I take a sip of my coffee and check the Cartier watch on my wrist. She’s late. Not something my father will tolerate.

But he’s in a meeting in his den, so I don’t have to deal with his disdain for a little while.

I’m draining the last drop of my coffee when Brooke breezes in, a bright smile on her face as she scans the kitchen.

She spies me, and her face relaxes. “He’s not here?”

I shake my head and rise to my feet. “In a meeting. We have a couple of minutes.”

I hug her, careful not to mess up her hair or outfit. “You want to expand on this weird message you left me.”

I glance over her shoulder and lower my voice. “I’m going to finish what he started.”

Her face tightens, and she exhales slowly. “That’s why you came back?”

I nod. “I’m not asking you for anything except for a little misdirection.”

The seconds are ticking by. I need to know I have her backing. If I don’t, I need to revise, but she nods and looks at me through her fake eyelashes. “I should have married him.”

My throat thickens as she blinks rapidly before her tears can form. I reach over and squeeze her hand. “He never would have let you.”

She swallows and starts toying with the diamond on her finger. The engagement my father encouraged.

“Are you back on your meds? Seeing that therapist?”

At the sound of my father’s footsteps, I change my answer. “I am, he’s been amazing. He’s helped me see how selfish I’ve been, and how much I owe to dad.”

Her face darkens for a split second, but like the pro she is, she’s smiling and on her feet as our father comes in the room.

He doesn’t hug her; there aren’t any cameras around; he just checks her over making sure she looks good.

She stiffens, her smile frozen on her face as he frowns. “You’re looking a little heavy.”

My fists curl at my sides at the familiar insult. Even though she probably expected it, her smile falters. “It’s been hard to exercise with the babies...”

But that won’t fly with my father. “Don’t make excuses. You’re under contract. Do what you have to but get the weight off.”

Brooke’s spine stiffens, but she just placidly smiles and agrees even though I know she’s conscious of the weight she gained with the twins.

My father is finished belittling her, so he turns his gaze on me.

I hold still as he narrows his eyes and inspects me looking for fault. He narrows his eyes. “Don’t fuck this up.”

I hold my breath as he checks me over. When he’s happy with the result of the dresser he hired and the result of a half-hour with a stylist, he nods just as his assistant comes into the kitchen.

The poor kid looks so harried, I know he’s petrified as he tells us the limo is waiting.

I trail in Brooke’s wake and catch her checking her reflection as we walk past the giant mirror in the hall.

Her face falls, and I know our father just achieved what he wanted to. Brooke’s battle with eating disorders and her weight has been tabloid fodder for years.

Right from when she first showed up alongside Mike and me on the Kids Club, she was constantly under more scrutiny than anyone else.

She inherited her mother’s bone structure, her broad shoulders, and runway body, but it was never enough. By sixteen, she’d had a nose job and breast augmentation.

When I catch her patting her stomach, I know she’ll be adding liposuction to the list.

There’s nothing I can say to reassure her. Beautiful isn’t enough in Hollywood.

Perfection is the standard. No visible flaws. No laugh lines or crow’s feet. No evidence that a real human being lurks underneath the picture-perfect image.

To our father, Brooke is an asset. Her kids are babies, but it’s only a matter of time before our father will want them in one of his movies.

And she’ll cave. Sooner or later, he’ll convince her and her husband it’s an opportunity. Then the entire cycle will start all over again.

As I climb inside the limo and see Brooke check her reflection again, I know I can’t back out.

For Brooke, for my nephews, for Mia, for Mike, for everyone who thinks my father is a loving father, a pillar of society, it’s time to tell the truth.

***

Mia

I’m out of breath, covered in sweat, and close to panicking when I reach the hotel.

It’s obvious an event is on. The car park is full, and additional valets have been added. I glance at my watch and curse as I see how late it’s gotten.

I sidestep a reporter on her way inside and call Toby’s number. When I spoke to him, he wasn’t sure he could get me in.

But I had to try, even if it means missing my flight and even if it means lugging my laptop and overnight bag with me.

I look like crap. But this isn’t a black-tie event, and PA’s always dress casually, so if Toby can get me a pass, I should be able to get close enough to speak to Zander.

I push through the crowd, phone pressed against my ear as I lumber towards the back entrance where he promised to meet me.

Relief surges through me when I find him and another PA smoking by the dumpster.

I break into a jog, bags swinging awkwardly into me as he raises a hand in greeting.

I dump my laptop and bag beside the door and slump against the wall to catch my breath.

Toby shakes his head. “What is going on with you?”

I eye the girl beside him, dragging hard on her e-cigarette and looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Can you get me a pass?”

He frowns but slides his hand inside his jacket. “I’ve seen enough of these. Take mine. It starts in a few minutes. They arrived a while ago.”

I accept the pass and throw my arms around him. He hugs me awkwardly and pats my back. “Okay. Enough PDA.”

I glance at my bag, and the girl beside him nods. “You can leave it here. We’re not moving. This is the designated smoke spot.”

I look to Toby for reassurance, and he nods. “The press junket lasts thirty minutes. Make sure you’re out before it ends, or you’ll get stuck inside for an hour when everyone leaves.”

I pull the lanyard over my head and yank the door open. “Thanks. For everything.”

I don’t hear Toby’s reply as I duck inside the service entrance. I have no idea where I’m going, so I follow the passageway and signs until I find a door.

I yank it open and find myself in the foyer. I barely look at the incredible interior in my haste to find the conference room.

I follow the signs, trying to look like I belong here when I see another couple of PA’s and a reporter rushing inside a conference room.

I pick up my pace and make it in the door, just as an MC walks on the stage.

I have to stand on my tiptoes to see the long table set out. Microphones are laid out, water bottles, and labels with the names.

I read from left to right to figure out where Zander will be sitting.

Jacob Cole, Maggie Blunt, Chrissy Lynn, Zander Cole.

The end. He’s at the end. The other name must be the producer. I edge along the back, barely able to move.

Cameras are everywhere. The seats are filled, and I recognize a lot of social media brands amongst the seated guests.

The less important people are standing, phones, cameras raised high, all packed in like sardines as they wait.

I can barely move, let alone get close to the stage, but when the MC starts introducing the line-up, everyone steps forward to get a better shot.

I elbow my way closer but can’t make it past the burly security guard eyeballing my pass.

He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head and points to the reserved seating.

I back off and take my place along the wall and watch from a distance the MC starts to welcome and thank everyone.

A giant banner advertising the movie coming in two months is hanging above the table. But strangely, it’s Zander and Chrissy at the front of the promotional poster, and the lead actor has been shifted to the side.

As far as I know, primary filming wrapped months ago, and it was about a rookie police officer falling for an ex-con.

But if Toby is right, given the level of interest in his relationship with Chrissy, it would make sense they maximize the publicity by changing the promotional posters.

I frown at the MC as he steps on stage with his microphone. “Thanks for coming at such short notice. Photographers we’ve got thirty minutes reserved for photos and autographs after question time. Let me start by introducing the producer Maggie…”

I’m so anxious; sweat is creeping down my spine. My palms are growing slick, and I have to focus on breathing slower.

When Zander is announced, the applause is a fraction louder. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a suit jacket, he raises a hand, smiles, and waves just before he takes a seat beside Chrissy.

My eyes are locked on him as he sits forward in his seat. He’s not looking in my direction, and I can’t exactly jump up and down and yell his name.

So, I wait and see if I was wrong to drop everything and come here.

“Okay. I think Zander has something he wants to say, but let’s open it up to the floor for questions.”

The floor erupts, with reporters talking over each other. I catch snatches of some, but it’s hard to hear, but some of the questions border on obnoxious.

“Are you sober, Zander?”

“Chrissy, are you the reason Zander stopped partying?”

“How does it feel to be working with your father after all these years?”

The MC diverts the more abrasive questions leaving Zander and Chrissy to answer questions more related to the movie they are promoting.

No one has addressed the fact that he isn’t in the movie. More disturbing is that the lead actor isn’t on stage.

But Zander is slick, rehearsed and so smooth I feel nauseated watching him.

He answers questions with a touch of humor, is charismatic, and is every inch the professional Chrissy keeps saying he is.

The only time he falters is when a reporter asks him if he’s ready to settle down.

He shoots a glance at his father, who taps the side of his nose as though subtly directing him.

Zander shifts on his seat and looks at Chrissy. “I’m glad you asked.”

He clears his throat and pushes back from the table. “Because I am ready to settle down. I met a woman. An incredible woman. And she gave me the courage to do something I should have done years ago.”

Pain tears through me. He’s really in love with Chrissy and it looks like he’s going to use this event to propose.

I can’t look away. I’m transfixed at the earnestness on his face. It can’t be fake, there’s no way he’s pretending. I duck my head, praying he doesn’t see me.

He stands, and the entire room hushes. I hold my breath as Zander looks down at Chrissy.

There’s an air of expectation. Tension is building as Chrissy looks up adoringly at Zander.

Everyone on the stage is waiting, flashes are going off, and I hear murmurs traveling through the silent crowd.

Zander stares at Chrissy. His playful smile disappears, and just when I think he’s going to speak to her he looks directly into the camera closest.

“You know me as a child actor and someone who’s had more than my fair share of run-ins with the law.”

Snickers reverberate through the crowd. I check Jacob’s reaction. If this is staged, even from my vantage point, Jacob looks uneasy.

To confirm it, Zander looks sidelong at his father. “My father looks nervous. He hates it when I ad-lib. But this is something I wanted to surprise him with.”

Jacob glances at the security guard just at the end of the stage but smiles tightly.

“My son. Ever the showman,” he says into the microphone.

Zander’s jaw works as he looks down at his watch. His father laughs and taps his own wristwatch. “You have somewhere better to be?”

Chrissy laughs. But it’s distinctly forced. Zander stares at his father for so long that people start whispering.

With an incredibly calm voice, Zander turns and looks straight ahead. “A few years ago, a friend of mine died. His name was Mike Davis. We worked together. We did drugs together. We told each other the truth. That’s rare in Hollywood.”

Jacob interrupts, but Zander cuts him off with a glare. “Mike died because he had the courage to come forward and shame those who victimize and abuse.”

I hear a few gasps, and Jacob’s face has started to turn an ugly shade of purple. “Zander. This is not the time for one of your—”

“For once in your life, you will let me speak,” Zander snaps.

No one on stage moves until the security guard starts to move in, looking ready to remove Zander.

Zander notices him but doesn’t seem bothered; if anything, he seems relieved. “Mike accused my father of a great many things. And I’m here to confirm every single allegation is true. And I’m here to say that my relationship with Chrissy isn’t real. It’s fake. I signed a contract to date her to help promote this movie.”

I suck in a breath through my teeth. Toby was right. It wasn’t real. It was just an act. One Zander did incredibly well. Damn him.

I want to push my way through the crowd to him and demand an apology, but Jacob is getting to his feet just as the security guard reaches Zander. “You killed him. And I have proof,” Zander says.

My chance to yell at Zander is stolen as the security guard steps around him.

He pulls out a badge, and the entire room erupts into chaos. Everyone is on their feet, as the security guard places a hand on Jacob’s shoulder.

“Jacob Cole, you’re under arrest for the murder of Mike Davis. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to a—”

Everyone starts to yell, and even on tiptoes, I can no longer see what’s happening on stage.

Then a woman seated at the front screams. “He’s got a gun!”

Every single person in the room seems to rush towards the exit. I’m crushed against the wall as gunshots come from the stage.

I catch a brief glimpse of the stage before I’m swept out the door and into the hallway.

Fragments of pictures flash together, flickering images as I try to keep my eyes on the stage. Zander. Zander is bleeding.

Confusion and panic overtake me as I spill out into the foyer, heart hammering in my chest as my mind tries to piece together what just happened.

But I can’t think, my body is crushed, and I’m forced to go in the direction everyone is going.

Police are streaming through the doors, yelling and trying to calm everyone down and direct them to safety.

I make it to the parking lot and immediately push my way through the crowd towards the back entrance.

Women are crying, men are on their cell phones talking about a shooter or a terrorist, and in the distance, I hear ambulances on their way.

Sucking in breaths too rapidly, I hurry back to where I last saw Toby and almost burst into tears when he runs to meet me. “What the fuck happened in there?” he yells.

I shake my head. “Zander. I think Zander was shot.”

Toby’s eyes widen then his phone starts to ring. He checks the caller and answers. “Are we safe?” he yells.

Whoever is on the other end of the phone gives him enough reassurance that he nods and rubs his hand over his face. “Okay. Okay. Yeah. Good. Okay. Thanks.”

He ends the call and picks up my bag. “We need to go. Whatever this is, it was broadcast live.”

I mutely pick up my laptop and follow him through the hundreds of people milling around, looking equally terrified and curious.

Police are everywhere. A SWAT team is streaming into the building. I let Toby pull me away until we’re standing with a group of PAs.

“Wow. As far as publicity stunts. This tops them all,” one says.

I snap my head in their direction, mouth slackening as they laugh. I look at Toby. “Did you hear what Zander said? They arrested his father for murder.”

No one says a word. Until the girl who joked shakes her head. “Fuck. That’s heavy.”

Toby frowns at me. “I wasn’t watching the live stream. I was working.”

A freckled-faced, redhead, pulls out her phone. “It’s damn well everywhere already. It’s gone viral.”

She turns the sound up, and we all crowd around her as she hits play on the link.

I watch again, numbness crawling over me as I watch from an unobstructed view of Zander accusing his father of murder.

What I didn’t see was the dark-haired woman who screamed, rise to her feet and point a second before she yells, “He’s got a gun.”

Zander’s eyes widen, then a gunshot rings around the enormous room and red spills from his chest as he staggers forward and falls off the stage.

Then in the panic, the camera is knocked off balance, and it tumbles to the floor.

I start to feel lightheaded and feel my legs start to buckle as voices float in and out of my hearing.

“Holy shit. Is he still inside?”

“The ambulance is on its way.”

“Who shot him? Play it back. They must have been in the crowd.”

“Whoa! You see the way he went down? He couldn’t have survived that.”

“Hey, shit, there’s another video. Of the night some guy called Mike died.”

I groan as bile rises to my throat.

Toby grips my arm. “Mia? You okay? Guys, I think she’s in shock.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I try to blink away the lifeless expression on Zander’s blood-splattered face. I focus on Toby, on his eyes, his lips as he speaks.

His blurry face is the last thing I see before black presses in, my laptop bag slides off my shoulder, and I hit the pavement.