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Rose turns back to me. “I need to know what Ashley has on you. Are there any more compromising videos or photos? Especially anything in high definition.”
“No.”
“Does she have anything on you? Anything at all that might be embarrassing if she sells her story about your relationship to the tabloids?” Rose taps her finger on her desk and gives me a pointed look when I don’t answer. “This is why you don’t sleep with fake girlfriends. You don’t tell them your secrets. You behave professionally and treat them as coworkers.”
“She signed an NDA,” I protest. “We both did.”
“Shameless people are dangerous,” Rose adds. “They don’t care. If she wants to sell you out, she’ll do it. We can sue for violation of her NDA, she can tie us up in court for years, drag your name through the tabloids, and for what? What does Ashley Foley actually have? She’ll hardly be worse off than she is now and you’ll be in tatters. Your reputation is worth more than she is. She knows it. It’s about time you knew it.”
“I spoke to her agent before you arrived,” Emma says quietly. “She’s not getting any work. I don’t know her financial situation, but if it comes down to paying her rent or selling you out, which do you think she’d choose?”
“She would never sell me out.” She’d have no reason to. I have money. I can take care of her. But dread still curls up my throat. I’ve told her everything, bared my soul to her. If she wanted to, she could drag me through the mud several times over. She could drag Michael’s affair into the open. Throw the spotlight on Lilah and her son. Cora too.
“Really?” Emma gives me a look like I should know better. “Have you watched her season ofLove on the Line? Ashley Foley would sell her own mother to get ahead.”
Pointing out that her mother would deserve it won’t get me anywhere.
“You don’t know her,” I protest. “The way they edit those shows—”
“I know how they edit those shows,” Emma says. “I’ve also read the post-season interviews with the cast and crew. She’s the real deal.”
“She’s not like that.”
Emma sighs. “Maybe she’s not. But our job is to protectyou, to look out foryourinterests, and if we assume the worst of her, we won’t be blindsided. This isn’t personal.”
Rose leans back in her chair, eyes wide. “You like her.”
I do, but I don’t say it. I don’t say anything. Like a coward, I stare at the wall.
When I turn back, Rose is giving me a careful look. “Do you want me to rehabilitate your image? Keeping in mind, at this stage, it isn’t impacting your career in any measurable, negative way.”
I’m already nodding. “Yes.” I need to fix this. I can’t leave Michael’s legacy in tatters, and no future success of mine will mean anything if I can’t back it up with a sterling reputation. I have to be better.
“Then you need to do as I say.”
“Okay. What do I do?”
“Break up with Ashley,” Rose says, but her tone softens a little. “Since you’ll be breaking the contract, you’ll have to pay her, but maybe the money will keep her quiet about your relationship for a while. Can you do that?”
Every part of me revolts at the idea and I’m scrambling, trying to find an excuse, any excuse. “But her career—?”
“Is dead in the water,” Emma interrupts. “You can’t help her by posting pictures of the two of you playing with puppies at an animal shelter.”
Rose nods her agreement. “Ashley Foley, in my professional opinion, needs to disappear from the public eye, then come back with a new look and a reformed personality. But she’s not getting any younger and you know how this industry is with women and age. A breakthrough probably isn’t in her future. And with this sex tape…”
Fuck. Up until now, I haven’t thought about how this sex tape is going to impact her career. Or her, personally. A ripple of nausea flows through me. No matter how hard I try, I’m not a good person. I’m the selfish, self-absorbed prick I’ve always pretended I’m not. “So I’m supposed to abandon her?” I ask weakly.
“As per the agreement you signed with her?” Rose says. “Yes.”
My head is spinning. “What if she moved in or we got engaged? Could that work?”
Rose steeples her fingers and studies me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Do you love her?”
My mouth opens, but no words come out. Do I love her? I’m happy when I’m with her, and not just when I’m inside her. I feel better when I can talk to her after a hard day. I’ve told her all my secrets.
But love?
I haven’t let myself think those words yet, but I’ve felt it when she smiles at me. In the dark of night when I hold her close. Some part of me loves her, but I don’t think it’s enough.
