Page 71 of The Actor and His Secret

Megan laughs, and it’s so evil that I laugh too. I’ve always been a side character, someone who doesn’t take things into his own hands or take risks. But Nikos changed that.

For him, I want to be the hero of the story.

I hold up the phone again. ‘I have this, and I’m very sure that it contains evidence of numerous crimes. So you’re going to tell me everything, and I’m going to record it. And if you do, I won’t go to the police right now with all of it.’

He gapes at me. ‘How do I know you won’t still go to the police?’

I shrug. ‘You don’t. But something tells me that you’re really familiar with blackmailing people and then going back on your word, so I think this is actually just karma.’

He blanches, and for a moment I think he’s just going to clam up. But then Megan steps out of her heels and picks one up, hefting it experimentally. ‘How much damage do you think a stiletto to the eye would do?’

God, I fucking love my bestie.

‘Ok.’ He licks his lips, sweat breaking out on his brow. It’s just like I thought - he’s actually a coward. Once he isn’t able to hide behind threats, once he’s actually put in a position where he doesn’t actually have the upper hand, he’s crumbling. ‘Here’s what happened.’

It takes thirty minutes for me to wring the entire confession out of Nikos’ dad. The worst part is when I start asking about his mother’s death. That makes my stomach churn, because he’s almost proud of the fact that he pushed a woman down the stairs and killed her in front of her own kid - and then held it over Nikos’ head for his entire adult life, claiming that he would press charges and reopen a criminal case that would ruin Nikos’ life, and maybe end with him in jail for a murder he didn’t commit, of a woman who he still mourned.

All the while, Megan is tapping frantically on her phone. When I’m done and end the recording, she looks up at me. ‘Selina sent me Nikos’ itinerary and a plane ticket for you. You have three hours until your flight leaves - you better get going.’

My eyes sting with the tears that are threatening to spill at the way that she’s supported me without question. I wrap her in a hug. ‘Thank you.’

She squeezes me back. I pull away and look to Nikos’ dad. ‘Call the police. Tell them that the janitor pulled you in here and assaulted you. Your lip is proof that you fought back, and then you zip-tied him to the chair using your badass judo skills.’

‘What?’ Nikos’ dad’s eyes bulge out of his head. ‘You said you wouldn’t if I confessed!’

I shrug. ‘I said I wouldn’t. Megan is her own woman.’

She laughs, and I do too. I’m going to make this right. ‘I’ll let you know when I land,’ I say, pressing a kiss to her cheek. ‘Thank you for everything, really.’

‘Go get your man,’ she says, and so that’s what I do.

28

NIKOS

My co-star, Michelle, sits beside me, so close I can smell the overwhelming kiss of her perfume. It chokes me. Even the slightly cracked-open window cannot alleviate the stench. Then again, I know why she’s done it - it overwhelms the smell of alcohol that clings to my skin, my hair. Hell, the suit I’d rocked up to the TV studio in still smells of last night’s mistakes.

Once H&M - hair and makeup - fix me up, smudging concealer over the shadows beneath my eyes, trimming my unruly hair and spritzing my neck with some matching obnoxious aftershave, I will get changed, follow our chaperone and begin to weave yet another lie around my life.

There are so many that even Charlotte would be jealous of the web I’ve woven.

I clutch the script in my hands, unable to focus on the swirling mass of ink on the paper. Selina had given it to me, reluctantly, on behalf of our management. Michelle has one too. And from the way she is memorising her lines out loud, I want to scream or punch the mirror before me.

‘…Nikos was so kind to take my dearest brother to Greece with him. I would’ve been in the photos, but my kind-hearted fiancé had booked me in to a five-star spa in the hillside.’

I could vomit. Which, as it turns out, is something I’d already spent my night doing. I’d reached the point of alcohol consumption where my body rejected it. And no matter how much more I drank, I just couldn’t keep it down.

I can’t control my life, what makes me think controlling my body is any different?

I press my fingers into my eyes until I see shapes in the dark. ‘Michelle, please. Shut up.’

‘Oh, he speaks!’ she scoffs, the script crinkling in her fist. ‘Do I need to remind you that I’m here to help?’

‘I didn’t ask for your help.’

‘Grow up, Nikos. Stop playing the victim.’

You have no idea. ‘How - how much are they paying you?’

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