The Siren, KATHERINE JOHN [positive books to read .txt] 📗

run a small production company, produce locally? It was the kind of thing that would have depressed me to no end five years ago, but I had to admit was sounding better and better of late. But I was getting way ahead of myself. It was purely a fantasy.

I’d just emerged from the steam-filled bathroom when there was a knock at my door. “Who is it?” I called.

“Francisco.”

I pulled on a robe and swung open the door. He was wearing a short-sleeved button-down, his hair pomaded to perfection, as usual. I cringed to think what a mess I must look, but he was scrolling through his phone. “Sorry to bother you,” he said without looking up. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

“What’s up?” I asked, concerned.

He clicked on something and handed me his phone. The blog picture was of Stella, slumped against the wall next to the bathroom at Coco’s last night, and the caption read “Stella Rivers Can’t Keep Her Act Together.”

“Shit,” I said.

“The insurance rep has already called,” he said gravely.

I frowned. “Can you get Jackson and Stella over here as soon as possible?”

“Not Cole?”

“Not Cole,” I confirmed.

He saluted. “Got it.”

I barely had time to pull on clothes before Stella turned up looking like death warmed over despite her carefully made-up face, Felicity at her side.

“I need her.” Stella gestured to Felicity as she entered without removing her sunglasses. She winced at the sunlight streaming through the wall of glass overlooking the calm sea. “Can we…?” She made a half-hearted gesture in the direction of the windows.

I hit the switch that lowered the transparent mahogany sunshade. “Blackout shades too?” I asked.

She sank onto the couch. “No, that’s fine.” She kicked off her sandals and curled up with her head on a turquoise silk pillow.

I pressed a cup of coffee into her hands and instructed Felicity to brew another pot while I opened the door to Jackson. He crept over to Stella like she was a dog that had been mistreated and might bite; I half expected him to extend his hand palm-up before squatting next to her.

“How you doing?” he asked quietly.

“I’m hungover, not dying,” she said. “Though I feel like I’m dying.”

He patted her hand with sympathy, and she recoiled. “Go sit. You’re creeping me out.”

Felicity giggled and perched at the end of the couch, catching Jackson’s eye as he moved to a chair. I took the seat opposite him. “You’ve all seen the photos?” I asked.

Everyone nodded.

“We have to figure out how we want to play it with the insurance,” I went on.

“Or whether we pull the plug,” Jackson interrupted, tucking a strand of dark hair behind his ear.

This roused Stella. “Pull the plug?” she asked, sitting up. “Why?”

He looked at her incredulously. “Because my father drugged you last night?”

“Cole’s an asshole.” She shrugged. “It’s no reason to can the film.”

“What he did was criminal,” Jackson protested.

“And we have no proof it was him,” Stella pointed out. “The bigger question is who leaked the picture. I’m guessing Madison. I saw her in the crowd the day I fell in the puddle, and that picture was leaked too. She’s so desperate for fame, she probably has some deal where she sends unflattering pictures of me in return for them printing flattering pictures of her.”

Jackson furrowed his brow. “So you don’t care that he drugged you?”

Stella finally took off her sunglasses and looked him in the eye. “I made twenty thousand dollars last year. My credit cards are maxed out, my house is reverse mortgaged, and I can’t pay my property taxes. This job is a lifeline, and I’m not letting him—or you—take it away from me. Besides,” she muttered, “drugging me is the least of his offenses.”

She lay back down on the couch and flung her arm over her eyes with a dramatic sigh. Jackson looked to me expectantly.

“None of us wants to shut down the film,” I said. “That’s a last resort.”

He nodded in agreement. “But if it comes to that, I’m not afraid to—”

“We know.” Stella groaned without moving. “What you really need to do is fire Madison. She’s going to ruin the film. Felicity would be much better.”

“This was not my idea,” Felicity piped up. “I’m not trying to steal anybody’s part.”

Jackson looked over at Felicity and smiled. “I know you’re not. But she’s right—I’ve thought of it myself. Problem is, getting rid of Madison isn’t so easy. She’s got a contract and is screwing my dad.”

“Funny, she screwed my dad, too,” I said dryly, debating whether to voice what else I knew about Madison. I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t, after what my father had put her through, but now that I’d gotten to know her, I realized perhaps she wasn’t worthy of my empathy. Life was turning out never to be black-and-white. “I don’t know if it helps, but…Madison never had leukemia,” I blurted.

Felicity and Jackson gaped at me. Stella sat up, her bloodshot eyes wide. “Wait, what?”

“How do you know this?” Jackson asked.

“My dad found out. It’s a long story…”

“Summarize,” Stella demanded.

I sighed. I knew my part in the story wouldn’t cast me in the best light, but at this point I had few fucks left to give. “Madison had a recurring part on one of my dad’s shows when she first got to Hollywood. According to him, she threw herself at him and he accepted what she offered. Which, now that I know her, I don’t doubt. Anyway, while they were involved, he did her the favor of making sure she got promoted to series regular on Dallas Divas. When it got canceled, she threatened to expose their relationship and say it wasn’t consensual if he didn’t put her on another show. So he dug up dirt on her in the event he needed to fight back and found out she’d never had cancer. The whole thing was a giant hoax designed to make her famous.”

“Jesus,” Stella breathed. “That’s evil genius.”

“It’s the real reason I got fired,” I admitted. I’d told