“If it’s not true, then I’m going to call them and demand that they print a retraction.”
“Dad, my name is already all over the internet. My picture too. You can’t run around demanding people take down something that I’m purposely putting there.”
He jammed his finger at the screen of his computer. “You purposely put this out there?”
“Not that specifically, but myself. I’m going to be famous one day, and there’s nothing you can do to stop that.” I was standing now.
“Until you’re eighteen, I can try my hardest.”
“Why don’t you just support me?” If he supported me, I could tell him that the article really did hurt me. That I hated reading that stuff about myself. If he had made it easy to talk to him, I could ask for his advice.
“Because you’re too young, odds are all this attention is going to change you. And not for the better.”
“And if I was older, I’d be fine?” I asked, anger tightening my throat.
“Yes, actually. If you were older, you would be more grounded in who you are.”
“It’s nice that my own father has no faith in me!”
“It not that; Leah has told me all sorts of stories about—”
“About me?” I asked.
“No, but about other young stars.”
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing she won’t be around to spy on me anymore. She got fired today!” I spit out the words and immediately wanted to take them back, deliver that differently, because I could tell it was the first time he was hearing this. She hadn’t told him yet. But I couldn’t, and no matter how I’d delivered it, he needed to know. That announcement stunned my dad silent, and I took the opportunity to flee to my bedroom.
I lay on my bed staring at the empty text box on my phone. For the last hour I’d been trying to compose a text to Donavan. I had typed and erased several variations of: Sorry about showing up at your work last night with a narcissist actor, a demanding one, and a clueless one. You figure out which one was which. We’re actually probably interchangeable. But I couldn’t send it. I always did better face-to-face. Except with him, it seemed. With him I’d been a mess from day one. So maybe I needed to just let him go. I didn’t want to, because it felt like I needed his help now more than ever. Yes, we were definitely interchangeable. Or maybe I was all three qualities by myself.
I sighed, put my phone on the nightstand, and pulled the blankets over my head.
Amanda crushed me into a hug the next morning as I was exiting my trailer, heading toward makeup. “I missed you yesterday.”
“How was yesterday? Did anyone seem super happy that I was gone?”
“Not that I saw, and I was looking.”
“I need to get to makeup with . . . Quick, remind me what the makeup person’s name is. I feel bad; I should remember.” What I really felt bad about was that Leah was fired. And about the fight I’d had with my dad the day before. Not just how I delivered the news but about everything he’d said leading up to that.
“Her name is Simone.”
“Simone. That’s right.”
“I still don’t believe Leah was fired,” Amanda said.
“Me neither.”
“Although maybe I should’ve expected it with her history with Remy.”
“She has a history with Remy?” I asked, surprised. “As in . . .”
“Yes, they used to date.” Amanda looked over my shoulder. “I have to run. I’m happy you’re back.” She gave me another hug, then took off quick.
Leah had a history with Remy and now my dad was dating her . . . could that be some sort of clue?
Twenty-Six
“Lacey Barnes,” Grant said as he joined me in the room representing Scarlett’s bedroom. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he sat down beside me.
“Grant James.”
“You look like you’ve been through death.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m a zombie,” I said.
He smiled. Grant was charming, I had to admit. But I also had to admit that he was a suspect on the list I had started in my head of people who might want me gone. He was trying to redeem himself, and like the article stated, I wasn’t up to that task. Was it possible that whoever was sabotaging me was trying to get me fired like Leah?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat my brains.”
“Just getting into character.”
The lights were bright on set, we were filming a daytime scene, but I looked out over the crowd in the studio who were regulars. They all moved through and around props and lights and monitors like an ant colony, hard at work. Remy was talking to the camera operator as he often did before takes. My eyes caught on one of the bodies that wasn’t moving. He wore flip-flops and long shorts, his gray hair was slicked back, and he was on the phone.
“Your agent is here again.”
Grant lifted his hand to block some of the light and squinted. “Oh yeah.” He waved, and his agent waved back.
“Why is he here again?”
“He likes me. Plus, I’m his biggest client. He wants to make sure things are going smoothly.”
“And does he feel like they are?”
“Yes, Lacey. Speaking of random people hanging around the set,” Grant said. “Isn’t that your tutor guy?”
My heart leaped into my throat, and I immediately scanned the studio. Sure enough, Donavan was toward the back, some sort of notebook in his hand, talking to someone.
“What’s he doing?” Grant asked.
“Not sure,” I said. What was he doing? “Maybe he wants to be an actor when he grows up and is taking notes.”
Grant nodded a little. Then said like he was presenting a huge gift, “Tell him that if he wants, he can interview me.”
“I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’ll be very grateful.”
Grant smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Even though I knew he’d been at the studio today, I was still surprised at how happy I was to see Donavan sitting in my trailer when I walked in. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming today,” I said, walking to the mirror and immediately getting to work removing my makeup.
“I thought I could help.”
“With what?”
“With trying to figure out who’s behind all the sabotage.”
A feeling of gratitude warmed my chest. He was the first person who wasn’t trying to downplay my feelings. “Thank you.” I cleared my throat and nodded toward his notebook. “So what did you learn?”
“Did you know that Simone, your new makeup person, is married to Noah?”
“The assistant director?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t. So what does that mean in all this?”
“I don’t know. I’m just making notes on people. We’ll figure out motives later.”
I was so happy he was helping me that I couldn’t hide the smile that had taken over my face. “Okay.” I dropped the last piece of latex onto the counter, grabbed a makeup wipe, and joined him on the couch. “Speaking of makeup people, my old one, Leah, had something going on with my director, Remy.”