“What is going on?”
“I’m guessing you didn’t approve a source close to you to go public with your relationship with Sam? Do you have a relationship with Sam?”
Amanda swallowed, closing her eyes. “No. And yes. What the hell is going on?”
“I’m sending you a link.” A second later a text with a TMZ link popped up on her screen. She ignored the now ten different alerts in her message box and went right to Helene’s text. She skipped the headline in the thumbnail, trying to convince herself that the words SAM PLEASANT IS OFF THE MARKET. OSCAR WINNER IS SINGLE NO MORE were nothing to be worried about. Amanda clicked on the link and did her best to keep from passing out as a picture of her and Sam dancing at Claim Jumpers filled the screen below the headline. Inset in the bottom corner was a selfie from Amanda’s Instagram. Her personal Instagram where she’d amassed a whole two hundred and ten followers, mostly friends from college and her early years in production.
The room started spinning as she tried to make sense of the words below the photos.
Sources close to the couple say Pleasant’s girlfriend is a former personal assistant. The two have been spotted around Hollywood in recent weeks and spent Valentine’s weekend in Sam’s hometown of Charming, California.
Sure enough there was a picture below of the two of them talking at the Vanity Fair party where they’d met and another photo of them talking on the street outside of Delightly a few days before she’d gone back to the ranch. Amanda’s face was in shadow, but with context it was clear it was her with Sam. She scrolled back up to the top and the time stamp on the article was only thirty minutes ago. Whatever damage had been done was only going to get much worse.
“Helene,” Amanda choked out.
“Where are you?”
“I’m—I’m at home. Please tell me you’re back.”
“Yeah, we’re on our way to the house right now. Okay. I need you to do two things. Set all of your social media to private. All of it. Even your Twitter even though you never use it. Lock down everything.”
“’Kay.”
“Then come over to Ignacio’s place. Our place.”
“Okay. Okay. Hele—”
“Don’t worry. We’re gonna sort this shit out. Just come over.”
“Okay.” Helene ended the call before she could panic anymore. Amanda’s hands were trembling when she switched over to Instagram. Thirty-four minutes and she already had six hundred more followers. She sent her account to private. Then deactivated her Twitter. She didn’t even bother with the forty-step process to delete her Facebook. She quickly changed into presentable clothing, then sped across town to Ignacio’s house in Silver Lake.
* * *
All the drive did was ratchet her nerves up from a solid twelve to a very uncomfortable sixteen and a half. She needed to get in touch with Sam and she needed to figure out a way to murder Dru while making it very clear to the courts that her homicide was completely justifiable. Apparently, Dru had decided ratting Amanda out would help her career. Who else would leak those photos in such a spectacularly invasive way?
Ignacio’s housekeeper, Meryl, buzzed her through the massive iron gates that led to the obnoxiously steep driveway that brought you up to their house. Helene was waiting for her in the ridiculous fourteen-foot doorway. She was wearing this effortless yellow maxi dress that made her dark brown skin glow. Amanda had to stop herself from flinging herself into a sobbing heap in Helene’s arms, but as soon as she got out of her car, Helene looked at her, her head inclined in that way that was pure love and concern. Tears started flowing down her face. She stepped into Helene’s arms and wept.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find out who we have to kill and then we’ll make it look like a very intentional message to anyone who thinks about fucking with you again.”
Amanda stepped back, wiping her face. “It was Dru. I know it.”
“Oh, I’m gonna fuck that bitch up. Come inside.”
“How do you look even better than when you left? You look amazing,” Amanda said as they walked into the immaculately decorated 1920s Art Deco style home. She’d been to Helene’s apartment plenty of times, but only once to Ignacio’s house, which they were now sharing. Award-winning directors sure knew how to live.
“Sun-kissed and dicked down. Girl. Honeymoon of a lifetime.”
“Where’s Ignacio?”
“He’s on the phone. He’s coming down in a sec. Come on.”
Amanda followed her deeper into the house to the kitchen. For some reason she couldn’t help but think of the welcoming warmth that filled Miss Leona’s kitchen. Her heart clenched on itself again. Somehow she’s felt like she’d betrayed his whole family.
She took a seat that Helene offered in the breakfast nook tucked against a large bay window that looked out over the backyard. Helene grabbed them some fancy boxed water Amanda had a seen at a few charity events, then sat opposite in her own chair.
“Okay. Tell me literally everything. Last I knew you basically told him to kick rocks at our reception and now you’re a couple.”
“Yeah, about that.” Amanda rehashed everything from the moment they met again in front of Delightly to the night before when Dru had essentially forced her to defend Sam’s honor and their new relationship. “He’s back from Bali on Sunday, but I can’t wait that long to talk to him. It’s the middle of the night there.”
“And you know for sure Dru did this?” Helene asked as Ignacio came into the room, his light brown skin also a bit darker due to their tropical honeymoon getaway. He greeted them both with kisses on the cheek and then settled in in his silent, supportive observer way that made him both an amazing friend and filmmaker.
“I mean, I don’t think anyone in his family would do this. They aren’t this bored or petty. And Sam would have
