And how many strangers have downloaded the picture to view over and over again later.
“Who’s responsible for the hack?” I ask as we taxi out to the runway.
“The authorities are looking into it,” Heath says.
“They need to work fucking faster. Find out who did this. Bring charges against them, and all the motherfuckers who posted those pictures.”
It’s the worst when you’re upset, and the person you are talking to is calm—trying to “handle” you. I don’t want Heath calm. I want him to go nuclear, to be as pissed off as I am. That way, I can be sure he’ll fight to the death to bring down the assholes who did this to Mae.
Some asshole reporters are speculating that this whole thing is a publicity stunt to create buzz around my upcoming movie premiere. Can you imagine that? How completely fucking stupid. I’ve told Heath that anyone who breathes that shit will never get an interview with me again.
“The funny thing is—it was just you. Normally, these hacks take down a handful of celebrities, but it’s like they specifically targeted you.”
“Did they hack anything else from me besides the pictures?”
“Some financial information. A few scripts,” he says. “I’ve already handled all that.”
“I don’t give a shit about that stuff,” I say. “Just the pictures. No one knew about those pictures but me and Mae.”
“Perhaps they were just fishing, looking for anything. But you were definitely the target,” Heath says. “I’ve turned over the letters you’ve been getting to the authorities.”
“You think there’s a connection between the letters and the hack?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s possible.”
“You don’t actually believe I have another stalker? This is not the way they usually operate. Those fuckers show up at your house, try to break in, go through your trash. I’ve had none of that.”
“That’s what worries me,” Heath says. “Whoever did this isn’t out of control. They’re the opposite—calculated. The thank you note was very calculating. I find that concerning. But we need to let the police, FBI, whoever, do their jobs, and you need to focus on yours.”
“Seriously?”
“The movie is coming out in a little over a week. You have . . .”
“You can’t expect me to continue doing press. You know all everyone is going to be talking about is those pictures.”
“We can control that.”
“No,” I say, feeling the plane increase in speed, waiting for the tires to leave the pavement.
“Knox, you have a responsibility to the film.”
“Do you really think I can do press junkets and walk the red carpet while these perverts are holding online polls about how fuckable my girlfriend is?”
“I think you’ve enjoyed living in this little secret fairytale with her,” Heath says. “But that’s over now. Shit just got real. The only thing we can do now is move forward.”
“By working?”
“Yes, but also figuring out if you want security for Mae. How she feels about that? Do you want to make a statement about all this? Does she? Do you want to do an interview? Does she? Do you . . .”
“Fine, I get it.”
“Look,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “I’ve always got your back, and I’ve seen a lot of this crap over the years. It always seems like the end of the world at the time, but it will pass.”
“I doubt Mae feels that way,” I say, looking out the window, the world speeding by. “What do you think is best? Address it head on, or lay low?”
“I think that’s going to depend on Mae,” he says.
“I need to be able to give her advice,” I say.
“I think it’s best to address it,” Heath says. “Those were private photos, meant only for you.”
“She was just trying to be cute and sexy while we were apart.”
“You should say that, too,” he says. “How would these fuckers feel if it was their wife or girlfriend? Their sister, friend, or daughter?”
“I know in a lot of ways I’m a brand, a product,” I say. “But Mae’s not. She should be off limits.”
“Unrealistic, but I think it would be very powerful if you looked in a camera and said just that.” He relaxes back in his seat. “We can make this work in our favor.”
“Heath, I’m not looking to capitalize on . . .”
He waves me off. “I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about spin.” He pats me on the knee. “You are Hollywood’s leading man. Mae is the perfect girl next door. Your old high school and college girlfriend. If that doesn’t sound like a perfect movie,