Page 115 of Dark Ugly Places

There is a rare moment of eye contact between them. She squeezes Lucita’s hand and leans closer. “Please,” she says quietly so that Jason will not hear. “Things are not good. You did nothing wrong, but please, you have to go now. Do you understand?”

Lucita looks into her eyes, and a flicker of recognition forms. Her lip quivers, a surge of maternal protection showing. “Let me help you. Please, Miss Bambi.”

She shakes her head no, not wanting to meet her eyes.

From the kitchen cabinet under the sink, Bambi reaches in and pulls out an envelope full of cash—three months of pay—she’d stowed at the very back.

“Take this,” she says and hands the envelope to Lucita. “Go out the back. A car is waiting for you.”

Lucita nods once.

Bambi grasps her hand one last time, then throws her arms around her. When she pulls away, she holds her firmly by the shoulders. “Do not come back here.”

Lucita leaves quietly through the back and out the poolside gate, down the alley where no one will see her. Bambi watches her go, and her gut pangs. She feels her shoulders drop a little. It’s going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.

When the phone finally rings, the house falls silent. Jason mutes the TV and shouts once through to Bambi. She goes into the living room, where he points to the oversized armchair, instructing her to sit. He clicks on the speakerphone, and a timid voice says, “Jason, I’ve got Cecilia Green here with Hollywood Tonight.”

“Thank you. Jason, how are you?”

Jason eyes Bambi as he answers. “That’s a stupid question. Have anything better?”

A guttural little laugh on the line. “How about this: why did you allegedly rape your co-star, Lauren LaMonte?”

“I’ve already said this, and I will say it until I’m blue in the face: I did not rape anyone,” Jason says, his voice rising. He stares past Bambi to the cabinet of keepsakes and his own reflection in the glass. His jaw flexes, and his eyes narrow, like he’s studying his appearance. “The sex was consensual. Lauren and I became very close, but I regret the affair and the pain it has caused my wife.”

“Sources say that your wife is pregnant,” the reporter says. “How is this affecting her?”

Jason turns, his eyes aflame. Indignation stirring, he reaches for Bambi, but she flinches and gets up, pulling away. Jason swallows, at a loss for words.

“Jason? Are you there?”

“Our family is our business,” he says finally, though it is too late.

“Did you know your wife was pregnant?”

“I—I’ve said all I’m going to say about that,” Jason stammers. “The fact is, I’ve been put in an unfair and compromising situation by Miss LaMonte. And I want to talk about that.”

“Oh, really?” says the reporter. “Other sources say that this isn’t the first time these accusations have arisen from your on-set co-stars and that other women are prepared to come forward. What do you say to that?”

“This industry is a festering cesspool of incestuous cunts and fleabags,” he spits angrily into the phone, ire in his every word. “I’m telling you that I didn’t hurt anyone. Every single time was consensual,” he shouts.

“So, there have been other encounters? You’ll admit to that?”

“Are you fucking listening to a word I am saying? Everything I’ve ever done has been consensual and above board. That’s it. There’s nothing else to it. Everything else is pure lies.”

Bambi’s phone vibrates in her hand. She backs out of the room, Jason too involved to notice. Bambi scrambles to the foyer and instructs the security guards to open the front gate just enough for Martha to get through. Peeking through the front door, she watches Martha’s arrival in her Beetle and, to her horror, spots the little girl in the front seat.

Bambi opens the garage, paparazzi circling the partially open gate, the security guards pushing them back. Several of them call out her name. The air is full of exhaust fumes and cigarette smoke, the faint odor of some paparazzo’s cheap cologne. Flashes and camera clicks abound as she closes the garage behind them.

51

Martha

I can see Bambi’s pissed at me before I even shut off the engine.

“You brought her?” Bambi’s eyes dart back and forth from me to Emmy, searching for an explanation.

“Yes,” I say calmly.