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If I’m going to get my life back on track, I have to do this. This is what I’ve worked for. This is what I want. All I have to do is stick to the script. Show vulnerability. Be contrite and humble. Talk about my struggles so I gain sympathy from my audience, but make it clear I’m what I’ve always pretended to be—the good guy. The last few months were a blip brought on by the stress of taking on a grittier role given my childhood. I’ve strived to live up to the ideals of my uncle, who I miss. There was no relationship with Kate Van Sandt, I was still with Ashley and it was miscommunication from my team and the assumptions of reporters.
It’s painful, talking about my childhood, but Julia smiles encouragingly. She asks me about going from foster care to Michael’s care, and I answer honestly that it was hard, there was a steep learning curve, but he taught me about integrity and responsibility and a million other things.
Julia lets the silence hang for a beat too long, and for some reason, I fill it, even though it takes me off script and into deeper water. “It’s hard to live up to his standards, to be the man he wanted me to be.”
Julia leans forward. “And who did he want you to be?”
“He wanted me to be better than him.”
“How do you ‘be better than Michael Sinclair’?” she asks, and I know she’s making a point, not asking a question. It’s in the sympathetic lift of her lips and the slightest hint of a laugh.
I shrug, shaking my head. If I had the answer to that…
Or maybe I do.
“I can’t.”
Her brows furrow. “Why would you say that?”
“Michael Sinclair was an amazing director who treated people with kindness and compassion, who held himself to such impossible standards. But I’m not sure it was enough. I don’t know that his legacy made him truly happy.”
Julia smiles and lets that sink in a beat before pivoting away from Michael. “And what makes you happy?”
Ashley.
A little smile steals across my face before I can stop it. Ashley made me happy. I think I made her happy too.
“Ah,” Julia says knowingly. “Your whirlwind romance with Ashley Foley was…unexpected. So you go into this hotel room, and Ashley is there, waiting for another man. Tell me what was going through your head.”
There’s a scripted version of our relationship history I’m supposed to follow, one Ashley changed when she revealed her attempt at seducing Nic, but she didn’t out our fake relationship. Merely pivoted and said we sparked immediately. That’s the one I’m supposed to stick to.
For a second, I debate telling the truth, disclosing our relationship was a publicity stunt. But that might backfire on Ashley and I’ve hurt her enough, so I don’t.
“You know,” Julia says after I answer, “a lot of people say she was a bad influence on you. Do you think there’s some truth in that?”
I bristle. “No.”
Julia waits, and I realize I’m supposed to elaborate, not glare. It’s hard to shake my anger at the world—impossible to budge the anger I still feel at myself. “She challenged me every step of the way, but she encouraged me to be myself. For that, I’ll always be grateful.”
Julia tilts her head and says in a soft, conspiratorial voice. “It sounds like you still care about her.”
So much it hurts. “I know the real Ashley Foley, the one the rest of the world doesn’t see. She’s painted as someone she played on a competitive TV show, but that isn’t her. We all know reality TV feeds on drama and thrives off of shock and outrage, so they push the people on the shows to be their worst and edit the footage to fit a pre-determined story. Ashley knew what she was doing, and she played to win, but the side of her the world saw isn’t all she is.”
“And who is the real Ashley Foley?”
“She’s kind. She has a great sense of humor and she’s fun to be around, but she’s also been incredibly supportive and nonjudgmental. She’s smart and brutally honest, and she knows who she is. She’s made mistakes, but so have I.”
“You believed she was behind your childhood being leaked to the press. Do you still believe that to be true?”
“I was in a state of shock, and while talking with a close friend, someone overheard us and passed on the conversation without context.” The lie doesn’t sit right on my tongue and I reach for my water. At the very least I owe Ashley a public apology, but that’s not in the script and I have to get back on the script.
“What would you say to her, if she was here now?”
I take a deep breath. The answer I’m supposed to give? I like it even less than the last one. I take a long drink of water, my eyes seeking Cora. My eyes land on Rose first. She’s watching me with rapt attention and a tinge of concern because I’ve already gone off script, talking about Ashley like this. Next to her, David has a tablet out, probably checking my schedule for the week.
Cora’s sitting a little further back. She smiles at me encouragingly, and I think back on our conversation last night. All she wants is for me to be happy, but my happiness has never been my priority.
Ashley would never take me back. All I have left is this. My career. Fixing my reputation.
