Isabel slides her hand away. But not forcefully. Her demeanor is dejected. Scared. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
“You can do this,” Georgina says. “If I can do it, then you can, too. And, by the way, I don’t want you to do this to help me. I want you to do it to help yourself. To help the other women he’s hurt and the ones he hasn’t yet but will.”
Isabel’s features harden. “You don’t understand. You’re not me. I’ve got too much to lose.”
All of a sudden, I get it. “Howard has been blackmailing you, hasn’t he? You met him at CeeCee’s party, not at an audition a year later. Howard found out you were a working girl at that party, and he’s been blackmailing you about your past, ever since.”
Isabel’s breathing halts, and, just that fast, I know I’m right. Isabel did, indeed, meet Howard the same night she met me. The night we went back to my hovel of an apartment and fucked like rabbits and talked until sunrise about our dreams and ambitions. The night I told her I didn’t want her working for that fucking escort service any longer. The night I told her I’d pay her rent, even though I could barely afford to pay mine, so she could stop selling her body and concentrate on her auditions and making her dreams come true. The night I told her I’d always protect her and have her back, no matter what. And she let me say all that. And do all that for her. She let me think I was her knight in shining armor... and all the while, she was fucking Howard on the side. Or, if not fucking him, then flirting with him. Stringing him along. Wrapping him around her finger until he finally gave in and gave her the big break she’d been trying to coax out of him for a fucking year.
“Did you fuck Howard at CeeCee’s party?” I choke out.
“No,” Isabel says. “Reed, no.”
“But you met him that night.”
She exhales and nods. “I flirted with him and gave him my number.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
“You’d made it clear to Francesca your date that night wasn’t allowed to network for herself. You told Francesca that was rule number one—your date had to be there to support you, and only you, and not her own agenda. I knew you’d be furious with me for hunting Howard down and slipping him my number. I thought you might even demand your money back from Francesca.”
I take a deep breath. “You told him you worked for Francesca that night?”
“Yes. And he liked it. It turned him on.”
I look down at the table. I can’t believe Isabel let me pay her rent that entire year, when she knew how hard I was working to keep my own dreams afloat. I can’t believe she did that to me, when Howard was probably slipping her gifts and God knows how much money, at the same time.
“I really did quit Francesca’s when I told you,” Isabel says. She begins to cry, but I don’t believe a single tear. “Howard was my only client after that. But he hired me directly. After a while, though, I told him I’d fallen in love with you and wouldn’t be doing anything with him, anymore. And that’s when he drugged me. The first time. When I woke up, I told him I’d go to the police, and he said, go ahead. He said he’d tell them, and everyone else, I’d worked for Francesca. He said he’d make sure I never got hired for anything but porn. And that’s when he finally gave me that first big role. And then another one. And another. Until my career really started taking off... But then I felt trapped. Like I couldn’t get away, even if I wanted to... Which I did, Reed. I swear, I did. But I was in a gilded cage.” Isabel wipes her eyes. “He said he’ll finally let me go if I marry him. He said he’d never let a ‘scandalous’ secret like mine come out about his wife. Not even his ex-wife.”
“And when will that be?” I ask flatly. “What does the marriage contract say, Isabel?”
She looks down. “Five years.”
I shake my head. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. For so long, I thought I was defective, thanks to my childhood. I thought I was literally incapable of falling in love. I knew I’d felt a glimmer of something special with Isabel that first night. Something I’d never felt before. Not quite that thing everyone writes about in love songs. But, still, it was definitely something more than I’d ever felt before. But then, as our relationship progressed, I felt myself constantly butting up against an impenetrable wall. And I thought that was because of me. Because I was too fucked up to let someone get too close to me. Because I was too guarded to ever let someone in, all the way. But now, suddenly, I realize it was never going to work for Isabel and me, not because I’m too fucked up to love. I mean, yes, I’m fucked up. But not to the degree I’ve always thought! No, Isabel and I were doomed because our entire relationship was built on lies, from day one. Because Isabel was playing me, and using me, and a piece of my heart always sensed it, and held back out of self-preservation.
“I’m sorry, Reed,” Isabel chokes out. “I’ve always loved you. Only you.”
“You don’t know what love is,” I say. I look at Georgina, my eyes plainly telling her: But you sure do. I return to Isabel, my jaw muscles pulsing. “If you’re hoping I’ll save you from Howard, the same way I’ve always saved you, then stop hoping right now. I’m not here to save you this time. Georgina is. She’s your white knight. She’s the one throwing you a lifeline. So, grab it with both hands.” With that, I grab Georgina’s hand under the table and squeeze. “Nobody can blackmail you about something you’re not hiding. Set yourself free. I don’t know if you’ll find true happiness by doing that. But what have you got to lose? You’re obviously miserable now.”
As Isabel sits quietly, her chest heaving, Georgina reaches into her computer bag, and pulls out a pad. She scribbles on it, tears off a sheet, and slides it across the table to Isabel. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk to me about any of this. So, call my boss, CeeCee Rafael. This is her number. CeeCee’s been wanting to expose Howard for years. I’ve also confidentially listed the names of the women I’ve spoken to about Howard, several of whom were on Francesca’s roster, early in their careers. Talk to them. Hear for yourself what Howard did to them. See for yourself if you feel okay with staying silent after you speak to them.”
To my relief, Isabel takes the paper. But, again, she says nothing.
I say, “If Howard’s got you brainwashed into thinking you’re nothing without him, he’s dead wrong about that. You’re a brilliant actress, Isabel. And everyone knows it. I know for a fact my buddy Ethan Sanderson—you remember him, right? I know for a fact he’s got at least four films in the pipeline he’d kill to hire you for. Wouldn’t you rather do movies you can sink your teeth into, anyway? That’s what you always used to dream about when we were young and poor—not doing superhero movies. Chase your real dreams, Isabel. Fuck Howard.”
After stowing the scribbled paper in her purse, Isabel stands, throws back the entirety of her second martini, and says. “I’ve got to go.”
“Take Georgie’s article,” I say.
Isabel pauses and eyes the pages on the table. But she doesn’t move.