Page 23 of Deck the Hauls

“The last few years have been amazing, but it’s been hanging over my head the entire time. Is all my success because I slept with him? And if he did this to you and me, how many other women is he doing it to? By speaking up, maybe I can at least do some good and get him back for what he’s done. And if it tanks my career, well perhaps I never deserved it all to begin with.”

“What? No way! You’re an incredible actor. You deserve all the roles, all the awards.”

I gripped my phone, heat rushing through my body. How dare he. Not only had Phillip abused his power to pressure Cat into sleeping with him, but he’d made her doubt whether her success was really hers. Of course it was. A niggling thought pulled at my chest. But would I have also had Cat’s successes if I’d capitulated? I stood, walked over to the window and peered out again. It wasn’t worth speculating.

“Thanks for saying that.” In the background, someone said something, then Cat’s voice dropped to a whisper. “One of the reasons I wanted to speak to you was to see if you’d be willing to talk to Rebecca as well. Rebecca is good, Em. She’s doing everything she can to find evidence against him.”

I chewed on my lip as the cows trundled toward the back fence. Phillip had already done so much damage to my career. Would speaking out now undermine the career comeback I’d been working so hard to achieve? Who knew how the media and the industry would react. Would he try to twist what happened?

Nausea flooded my stomach. It didn’t seem fair that I’d had that horrible experience and was now under pressure to not only relive it, but relive it publicly, exposing something I’d kept hidden from my family and friends for years and possibly ruining my career in the process.

“This is terrible timing for me. I’m finally working again… It’s just a HolLove movie, but it’s the only gig I’ve had outside voice overs since Clique wrapped. Speaking out against one of the most powerful directors in Hollywood just as I’m trying to get a foothold again… I don’t know.” I ran my hands over the fake wooden desk below the window. “And I’m not sure how helpful my story would be anyway, since nothing ended up happening. It was just a proposition. Maybe Rebecca will find some other women who are in a better place to speak out than me?”

God, I sounded selfish. But maybe they could find someone else, someone who wouldn’t have as much to lose by speaking out? Or maybe they could wait a few months, until after The Christmas Tree Farm came out and I knew where I stood. But the longer this goes on, the more women it will happen to…

“First of all, the proposition was something,” Cat said, gently but firmly. “It was completely inappropriate, not to mention illegal, for him to do that and then destroy your career because you said no. Please don’t downplay that. But I get why you’re worried about speaking out. I know it’s tough. Rebecca wants to move fast since apparently Phillip’s got wind of it and is trying to squash it.”

“Are you thinking about going to the police as well? I don’t think what happened to me would amount to criminal conduct, but what he did to you…that sounds worthy of jail time to me.” I clenched my teeth. That asshole definitely deserved to be in jail.

“Maybe. My top priority is getting the word out, making sure he never works in the industry again. I don’t know if there’d be enough evidence to lay criminal charges against him—especially since I waited before speaking up. And talking to Rebecca feels less intimidating than going to the police station.” Cat paused. A man’s muffled voice sounded in the background again. “Sorry Em, I’ve got to go. I’m on set in Utah. But perhaps you could think about everything and we can chat some more soon?”

“Okay, talk soon.” I hung up.

Shit.

Phillip deserved to be in jail.

I should speak up too. Join forces with Cat. Take the bastard down.

But the thought of having my story aired publicly, potentially further damaging my career... I swallowed. I couldn’t.

I stared at the time on my phone, heart thumping. Thirty minutes until my next scene. How the hell was I going to get back into character after Rebecca’s and Cat’s revelations?

CHAPTER NINE

DANA

Dried brown leaves clung to the oak trees lining Main Street. The maple trees were already completely bare. The Boston ivy, its bright red leaves trailing up the brick wall of the shop in front of me, was the only autumnal touch of color remaining.

The crisp morning air sent a much-needed jolt through my central nervous system. Now all I needed was one of George’s expertly crafted double-shot cappuccinos and I’d be fully functional.

After spending all week on Red Tractor Farm, it was nice to escape both the farm and the film crew, who had continued to make too much noise and generally get in my way, although to be fair I hadn’t heard them at all this morning. What was Emily doing right now? I bit my lip. While I was looking forward to seeing her again tonight, after Jake’s visit yesterday the last thing I felt like was being surrounded by all things Christmas at the ice-skating rink.

A door slammed nearby. I winced as pain shot through my head. I needed caffeine—fast. I’d have brunch at Novel Gossip, hopefully catch up with George and Hannah if they were working. And then, once I was caffeinated and full of delicious food, I might feel more like calling Mom and letting her know I wouldn’t be coming home for Thanksgiving yet again. She would be disappointed, but surely she’d understand?

Oak leaves crunched under my feet as I beelined toward Novel Gossip. I’d try to make it up to Mom by suggesting I visit another time. Another time when Mom and Dad would be alone. We could meet in town again, far away from their house and all those memories. We were long overdue for a catch-up.

I swung open the door to Novel Gossip, the scent of rich coffee and baked goods sending my taste buds watering. George’s cappuccino couldn’t come fast enough.

I stopped just inside. Had George rearranged the furniture?

Olivia’s flower arrangements in the center of the round wooden tables were Christmas-themed—evergreen holly, red winterberries and Christmas ferns. Surely it was a little early for that? Emily probably wouldn’t think so, but she definitely wasn’t objective when it came to Christmas-related topics. A plastic Christmas tree, decorated in gold tinsel and ornaments, stood next to the door. I held back a groan. Why did the start of the Christmas season seem to get earlier and earlier every year? And why on earth had George used a plastic tree? She’d heard Olivia and me complaining about how terrible fake trees were for the environment.

I stepped farther in and spotted Blake, Jenny, and Olivia sitting at one of the tables near the window. Rory Goldsworthy was at the table next to them. I blinked. Was he wearing a suit? I hadn’t seen him in one of those since his niece got married. What the hell was going on? My head throbbed. I really needed a coffee.

As I took the next few steps into the café, someone cleared their throat.

I looked over, and my stomach plummeted.