Page 94 of Deck the Hauls

I had a particular interest in career comebacks.

“Well, the producer who’d harassed me died last year. That was the catalyst. I realized that even though I’d spoken out against him, I’d given up trying to follow my dreams. And then I started thinking about how much the industry has changed.”

“In what way?” I asked.

“Don’t get me wrong, homophobia and racism are still prevalent of course. You only need to watch the Oscars to see how underrepresented people of color still are in leading roles. And do you know how many queer actors find it hard to get roles, especially playing straight love interests? But it’s not as blatant and accepted as it used to be and at least nowadays it’s harder for production companies to ignore allegations. Even if they aren’t motivated by wanting to do the right thing, the financial and reputational risks are too great for them to push it all under the rug.”

I slipped my hand out of Dana’s and lifted my water glass to my lips. If the media found out about me and Dana, would that relegate me to a career of playing queer female side characters? I glanced at Dana, who was gazing at Charles, her face creased with sympathy, and my chest ached.

“Hopefully it keeps getting better.”

“I’m sure it will, just not as fast as we’d like.”

We spent the rest of our time together reminiscing about filming and discussing the big movies coming out this year, while my mind whirled with our discussion. I kept thinking of Austin creeping onto Ava. Of Phillip, opening the door to his hotel room, half naked. Of Cat, telling me what had happened to her. Could I be like Charles, speak up against Phillip no matter the consequences, keep trying to push ahead with my career, even if he blacklisted me further?

After we’d said goodbye to Charles, we walked back to Dana’s truck, which was parked in an impossibly tight spot in front of the brownstones.

Just as Dana went to open the passenger door for me, I stopped. “Dana.” Dana turned to face me. “I think I’ll do it.” I swallowed. “I want to try to take Phillip down. Hopefully Charles is right that the media interest will blow over fairly quickly.”

“I know what a difficult decision it’s been,” Dana said, stepping forward, her eyes soft. “I’ll support you no matter what.”

Tears welled in my eyes. God, she was the best.

“Now that I’ve decided, I kind of just want to rip the Band-Aid off. If it’s okay, I’ll quickly call Rebecca now.” Then, maybe I could finally put all of this behind me.

Dana nodded. “Of course.”

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my messages until I found Rebecca’s number. My heart thudded in my ears as I stood on the sidewalk, waiting for her to pick up.

“Emily?” she said, surprise clear in her voice.

“I’m ready to go on the record.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

DANA

“The tree is huge,” Emily said as we stepped onto Rockefeller Plaza from West 49th Street and the gigantic Rockefeller Christmas tree, covered with multi-colored lights, came into sight.

“It’s a spruce.” I sized it up. “Looks like it’s almost eighty feet, which means it would be at least seventy years old.”

“Seventy years old? That’s incredible. Imagine spending seventy years peacefully living your life in a quiet forest, only to be uprooted and placed in the center of one of the busiest cities in the world.” Emily gestured at the crowds bustling around us.

“I can relate,” I said.

Emily laughed. “Hopefully staying with us in Brooklyn hasn’t been quite as jarring.”

“No, of course not.”

“Do they make you feel homesick?” Emily nodded toward a row of tiny wooden Christmas chalet cabins.

I chuckled. “My house is a little more spacious than those tiny chalets, thanks very much!”

It was good to see Emily teasing me. Since speaking to Charles yesterday, she’d been unusually quiet. She’d also pushed her food around on her plate at breakfast. Was the upcoming meeting with Rebecca bothering her, or was she having second thoughts about speaking out against Phillip? Either way, hopefully ice skating would distract her.

We walked up to the railings surrounding the rink and looked down at the skaters below. Some were clutching the sides, others were gracefully skating in time with the pop music playing over the speakers. The iconic gold Rockefeller sculpture stretched out under the Christmas tree. Around the railings, gold and silver flags waved in the afternoon breeze. We stepped down the stairs to the rink and rented skates.

“This is such a quintessential New York experience,” Emily said as she pulled on her boots and then tugged the laces to tighten them. “I can’t believe I’ve never done it before.”