Just.
As though because the accuser was crew and not cast, not someone with their name on a marquee, her safety didn’t matter.
“That’s only part of why I’m calling,” Ramona says, calm and collected as she fills a glass of sparkling water in her kitchen. And then, without sharing any of the details, she tells Petra her planto go public with a statement. The conviction that only crystallized for her while at the cabin with Nick.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Petra presses. “Is it really worth ruining his career over something you barely remember?”
“I’m sure,” Ramona says crisply. “But I don’t need your help anymore, if you could call it that. Our professional relationship is over.”
Truthfully, she should have fired her during that first meeting they had about Zander.
Then she calls Arlie, a long-overdue response to her text. Schedules a coffee date and tells her everything, rightfully assuming she’ll want to sever her own connection to the publicist.
And if losing Ramona is barely a blow to Petra’s agency, losing Arlie J certainly is.
After that, with the help of a criminal justice professor Nick is friends with, she decides to go directly through law enforcement. The statute of limitations in California is ten years, and maybe there won’t be evidence for the case, but with her testimony and the costumer’s, maybe there can be some consequences for Zander. If not legally, then at least for his career.
For a while, she hasn’t known how to reconcile protecting girls she’s never met with protecting herself. Because it’s true that coming forward will likely mean putting herself back in the spotlight. But of all the horrible things she’s endured during her career, the men leering at her and the vile comments and the invasions of privacy—theabuse—this is one thing she can fight back against.
She thought she wanted to be done with that part of her life.
What she actually wants is justice.
Two weeks into winter quarter, Ramona sits in the waiting room of the detective’s office. She’s wearing a suit even though she probably doesn’t have to, distracted by a wrinkle in the hem of her jacket.
Nick offered to come with her, and after a brief internal debate, she said yes. She’s not sure how wobbly she’ll be afterward, although she hopes she can be strong. Once upon a time, she would have thought she’d need to do this alone. That having someone next to her might mean she’s weak, incapable of independence.
But she can regain control of her life with someone who loves her sitting right next to her.
“No matter what happens,” he says, giving her hand a squeeze, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
She squeezes back. Whispers, “Thank you.”
“Ramona?” A detective offers her a kind smile. “We’re ready for you.”
—
With a flourish, Arlie Jpresents the most impressive charcuterie board Ramona has ever seen: at least a dozen types of cheese, feather-thin slices of cured meat, a rainbow of gorgeously cut fruit.
“I know, I know,” she says, giving Ramona and Betty a grimace as she sets it on her pristine glass coffee table, “I went a little overboard. I just rarely have time to host, so I wanted to do something special.”
Ramona snags a cracker and a hunk of Brie. “It looks incredible. Thank you.”
Betty nods her agreement, reaching for a piece of prosciutto while Ramona pours from a fancy bottle of nonalcoholic wine.
When Arlie invited Ramona over for a girls’ night, she didn’t quite know what to make of it. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever had a girls’ night with anyone but her mother, aside from what they called the prime-time block of female-focused programming thatGreta Life!was part of.
In fact, she only knows Betty because of Arlie—she was the one who recommended her.
“Catch me up on everything before I have to go back on tour next month,” Arlie says after grabbing a plate for herself. Her curls are piled high on top of her head. “Betty, what’s going on with the van-gym? Gym-van?”
“Almost ready to go,” Betty says, kissing her index and middle fingers and tapping them to her bicep. “Just waiting on some last pieces of equipment, and then I’m officially done with my gym lease.”
“Fuck yes,” Arlie says. “Toning ass and taking names.”
“Spilling the secret of how we all got such slammin’ bods.”
Betty nudges her. “Ramona, bug, have you ever heard someone actually utter the words ‘slammin’ bod’?”
