Page 20 of The Fake Script

Hanging up, I lie back with a sigh. I knew it was only a matter of time. Between us hanging out on set and all of Madison’s hints on social media, I was never getting out of this.

I drag myself to the shower and stand under the hot water until some of the fog dissipates from my brain. I barely have time to get dressed before my doorbell rings.

I open the door of my rental apartment without looking at my unwelcome visitors, then go straight to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. My mom and Madison are chattering in the background, but I’m not listening. Because the smell of coffee puts Emma front and center in my mind again. Just like she was in the dream I was having, the one my mother interrupted with her call.

“It’s a disaster!” Madison shrieks, catching my attention.

Wait. What? Spinning around, I find my mom pacing the length of the living room while Madison slumps on the couch, head in her hands. I glance between them. “What’s going on?”

“You didn’t listen to a word we just said, did you?” Mom asks with a pointed look. Even this early in the morning, she has full makeup on, her hair is done, and she’s ready to tackle anything coming at her.

“Sorry.” I massage my temples. “I needed coffee first. What happened?”

“This,” Mom says, handing me her iPad. It’s a bunch of gossip magazine articles and social media posts, all showcasing pictures of me and Emma talking near the trailer yesterday alongside yearbook pictures from high school. My heart quickens. How did they make the connection so quickly? I move on to the captions, and they all more or less say the same thing. That I’ve reconnected with my high school sweetheart.

All the blood seems to drain from my body. Are these people scanning my yearbook pictures every time I appear in public with a new woman? Probably. Paparazzi dig their claws in as soon as there’s even a whiff of a story.

“Crap,” I breathe out. Now, Emma is going to know it’s me. Will that change things between us? Is there a possibility she doesn’t read these crappy websites? I’m pretty sure tabloids aren’t her thing.

“Yes, crap is right!” Madison growls, throwing her arms in the air. “We have to fix this. People can’t think you’re dating this—this girl! It’s going to ruin the movie.”

Mom nods firmly. “This is quite a pickle. For starters, we’ll do an emergency press release. Say that she’s just an old friend. Then, you and Madison will go together to the launch of the new Lucacci perfume tonight.”

“Yes, good idea,” Madison says, releasing a breath. “Show them everything is fine. I’ll also post a picture online, and—”

“No,” I yell, dropping the iPad on the table. I can’t take this any longer.

“Why not?” Mom asks with a puzzled frown. “It’s a good plan, honey.”

“It’s not,” I say, looking away, trying to find an escape. “Because—because Iamdating her.”

My cheeks must be burning red right now, but I don’t care. I’m tired of being jerked around like a puppet. And I will not pretend to be in love with Madison again. I need to seize control over my life—now.

Madison lets out a loud snort. “Oh, that’s rich.”

I cross my arms. “It’s true.”

“What are you talking about, Auston?” Mom wrinkles her forehead. She must realize I’m serious, because she never calls me by my first name.

“Emma and I are together. We’ve been dating since I came to New York to find a place to live and attend the Ivory event.”

Madison leans forward, elbows on her knees. “Is that so? Why is it the first I’m hearing about it? Or your mom, for that matter?” She’s defying me with her gaze, but I can tell there’s a hint of fear hiding in her blue eyes.

“She wants to remain anonymous. Not everyone craves the spotlight,” I say, matching her icy stare.

“Ah! You should have said something to me, honey,” Mom says, blowing out a breath of air as she grabs the tablet, her enthusiasm now turned up full throttle. “And this girl is the bookstore owner, right? The one consulting for the movie?”

I nod.

“Yes, yes. That could work.” She nods, her eyes gleaming as she types on the tablet. “I’ll make a statement confirming the rumors. It’ll still bring some fabulous publicity for the movie, just not in the way we expected.”

“No! You can’t,” I shoot back, louder than intended. “Like I said, she wants to remain anonymous.”

“But the cat is out of the bagnow, honey,” she says, putting her glasses on and studying me.

I sigh. “It’s just gossip.”

She peers at me for a second, then nods. “Fine. I won’t say anything, but you should talk to her. You know things can never stay hidden for long. Especially with her hanging around the set.”

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