It must have been about his ex, I reasoned. He did just have a recent breakup…
“Looks like someone’s sniffing around for secrets,” Mason’s voice came from the shadows.
I tensed up. “You’re the last person I want to see right now,” I said with a scowl.
“The very last? Aw, little Charlie, that hurts my feelings,” he said tauntingly.
I didn’t know what it was, but for some reason, I suddenly felt a boiling rage rise to the surface. “You fucked me and left,” I snarled, the anger finally pouring out.
Mason looked taken aback for a second, but then he quickly regained his swagger. “That’s just how things work in show business,” he said smoothly. “You can’t afford to get attached.”
“Oh, so you’re trying not to get attached,” I snapped, continuing walking through the village.
Mason followed. “Of course I’m trying not to get attached. In this business, you never know what’s going to happen day by day. You never know who’s waiting to ruin your reputation.”
“Ruin your reputation? Please,” I said, thinking of Reese and how he was afraid of Rachel’s husband leaking some big secret. “Reputation doesn’t matter…”
“Don’t lie to yourself,” Mason sneered. “Reputation is everything. You know this — I saw your Instagram post with Crim and Oliver. Doesn’t it feel good? That rush of fame? That’s the feeling of your reputation rising.”
“I don’t care about that,” I said.
“Oh stop being so self-righteous. You love it; we all do,” he said.
“Oh really?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. “And what’s your reputation, Mason? Seems to me like everyone thinks you’re a gossip, and that you stir up drama where there doesn’t need to be any.”
His face fell. I’d struck a nerve. “Who’s saying that?”
“Reese,” I said simply.
Mason’s face curled into a look of loathing.
Even so, he was still stunning.
“Let me tell you about Reese Riley,” he said, his words coming out carefully now. More pronounced. “Surely you’ve found out by now that me and Reese used to be a thing.”
I hesitated, then nodded. Still filled with anger, I taunted, “What, did he break your heart?”
“On the contrary,” Mason said. “He did something so… so bad that I didn’t even recognize who he was anymore. And now he’s wandering around the set, acting like the world’s most perfect director, pretending like nothing ever happened.”
“What happened?” I asked, my curiosity chomping at the bit.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Mason said quickly, regaining himself and looking around for eavesdroppers.
“It’s important for me to know,” I said, standing my ground. I thought of the video Alina showed me -- the one where her director took advantage of her. Even though I knew in my heart that Reese would never do that, I had to prepare myself for anything he might try. “Who else knows?” I asked, searching for more entry points to this secret.
Mason tilted his head back for a moment, thinking. “Alina, Rachel, Leo, probably Oliver,” he said. “But they don’t know the whole story.”
“Then tell me the whole story!” I said impatiently.
“Not here,” Mason said, looking left, then right.
The streets were empty.
“Come on, let’s get ice cream or something,” he said.
I was stunned by this change of pace, but I’d take it.
A few minutes later, we were at the local gelato place.
“What flavor do you like best?” Mason asked me.
“I like strawberry, but I don’t know if I want that today… all of these flavors are new to me.”
“Ok,” he said, then turned to the server. “We’ll get one of each.”
I scrunched up my face. “Isn’t that wasteful?”
He shrugged. “I’m paying for all of them. I might eat all of the ones you don’t. Who cares?”
I was openmouthed as it dawned on me: Mason — and myself now, were the kind of people that could afford to buy all of the flavors of ice cream in a shop if we wanted to. Money was no longer an issue; I could live a life of complete indulgence.
We took a seat at the back of the rustic little shop. It was chilly in here — almost as chilly as Mason’s bright blue eyes as he looked at me.
“So what were we saying about Ree—”
Mason cut me off with a look, then he pointed his eyes at the server.
“Oh, right. Um.. What were you saying about —”
The waiter brought out the first flight of small gelato cups: green Pistachio, beige creme brûlée, tawny tiramisu, and rosy Amarena cherry.
“About Ross?” Mason murmured, the pseudonym filling the air between us.
“Y-yeah. About Ross,” I said, picturing Reese.
Even though the waiter was out of earshot, Mason leaned in closer and whispered. “I used to call him Ross when we were out in public together. So that no one would recognize him, you know?”
“Wouldn’t they recognize you first before him?” I asked.
“Depends on the age. Ross used to be a big name actor back in the eighties when he was a teenager, so older people know him. Younger people would recognize me. I had a fake name too, but it doesn’t matter. What matters here is what he did,” Mason said, stabbing a tiny spoon into the pistachio gelato.
“What was that?” I asked, leaning in.
“I’m only telling you because everyone around you already knows, and since you’re part of the cast now, you should know too.”
My mind felt like an avalanche as I pictured every worst-case scenario.
Mason leaned forward, his eyes hard and serious. “He had a bunch of guys in his basement.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What?” I whispered, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Mason shoveled another spoonful of green pistachio gelato into his mouth, taking his gaze off of me. “I mean one time I came over to his house, and he wasn’t home, and there were a bunch of fucking dudes in his basement!” Mason said.
“Wait wait wait,” I urged, trying to wrap my mind around the situation. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to get?” Mason asked, raising one of his dark, sculpted eyebrows.
“Were they trapped in there or something?” I asked. Then I thought of
