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My face blasts with heat. If I’m being honest, I have, indeed, fantasized about myself doing that very thing. But it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to quickly realize that little fantasy would backfire spectacularly on me. First off, Isabel would never tell me the truth, anyway. She’s engaged to Howard, after all. So, of course, she’d cling with white knuckles to the story she told me outside the garage—that Reed was showing her his car collection.
Also, asking Isabel about what happened would require me to reveal my fling with Reed. Maybe even that I’ve developed serious feelings for him. Which, in turn, would cause Isabel to feel duped about the interview and storm out, probably. And then what? Who knows what kind of fit Isabel might pitch for having been ambushed like that? Would she blast Dig a Little Deeper and CeeCee for my unprofessional behavior? I think it’s likely. And so, in the end, I’ve realized I can’t risk torpedoing my fledgling career, or splashing mud on CeeCee or her magazine, to pull a stunt like that.
“CeeCee, I swear on my mother I wouldn’t ask Isabel about what happened between her and Reed. It would almost certainly be a pointless exercise, anyway, and might even backfire on me.”
CeeCee shakes her head. “It’s still not a good idea for you to interview Isabel, even putting Reed aside. Isabel’s not even a good interview subject, Georgina. I know she’s a huge star. And with that big franchise deal she signed, I’m probably a fool not to jump at the chance to put her on a cover. But she’s notoriously wooden and guarded in interviews. A real dud.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that. But I think she might open up to me about her engagement to Howard. Maybe I could ask her about that?”
CeeCee makes a face like she just bit into a lemon. “I have no desire to put that man’s name inside the pages of my beloved magazine.”
I knit my eyebrows together. “You mean Howard?”
“Correct.”
“I thought you and Howard were friends. Did you have a falling out in the past ten years?”
CeeCee looks surprised. “Howard Devlin and I aren’t friends, and never have been. Who told you we’re friends?”
“Oh. Nobody. I assumed it because he was one of the guests at your fiftieth birthday party. I read the article in the George Michael issue.”
CeeCee rolls her eyes. “A guest of mine brought Howard to my party as their plus-one. And, trust me, I was livid about it. I can’t stand that creep. All my friends know that.” She points her finger at me. “Stay away from him, Georgie, if your paths ever cross. From what I’ve heard, he’s all hands with pretty young things like you. Stay. Away.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. As a bartender, I’ve handled more than my fair share of dirty old men.”
CeeCee’s face turns dark and serious. “No, honey. You don’t understand. I’ve heard some very disturbing rumors about Howard, regarding the young actresses who’ve worked with him over the years. Nothing I can personally confirm. The rumors have all been second and third hand. But, still, I believe what I’ve heard. In fact, I’ve been wanting to do an exposé on that bastard for years. But nobody I’ve talked to will confirm the rumors. And who could blame them? What young actress would want to torpedo her budding career by pointing her finger at one of the most powerful producers in Hollywood—especially regarding something that would pit her word against his, or maybe even confirm she succumbed to his advances, and slept her way to the top? Howard can make and break careers, at his whim. Look at Isabel! She’s been his favorite forever and look at her now. She’s landed the biggest four-picture deal any lead actress has ever had. Imagine that.”
“All the more reason for me to do that interview of Isabel. I could subtly try to get information out of her about those Howard rumors.”
CeeCee scoffs. “Isabel is the last person who’d rat out Howard. Obviously, she’s firmly hitched her plow to his wagon. Truth be told, that’s one of the reasons I’ve always said no to Isabel’s publicist. Because I’m so annoyed with her for being in Howard’s pocket. Especially now that she’s wearing his ring, I have zero respect for her. She did what she had to do to get ahead, obviously, but that doesn’t mean I respect her.”
I think back to my conversation with Isabel at the party. To how charming she seemed. How genuinely sweet. Of course, minutes later, my impression of her was shattered by her smeared lipstick and tousled hair, coupled with Reed’s guilty-as-sin expression. But, still, there was genuine sweetness about her when we spoke at the party. And a deep sadness about her, too, especially when her eyes fell on Howard across the party... and she turned and walked in the exact opposite direction.
