me.”
Isabel picks up her martini with a shaky hand and drains it. But she doesn’t speak.
Georgina taps the article on the table. “Pretty soon the whole world is going to read this article and know what he did to me, and to those two other girls. And I can’t begin to tell you how fucking proud I am, how freeing it is, to know I’m not hiding this secret anymore. And not only that, I’m doing everything in my power, however small, to protect other girls from suffering at the hands of that fucking prick.” Georgina reaches across the table and takes Isabel’s hand. And to my surprise, Isabel doesn’t flinch or jerk away. “You’re about to play a superhero on screen. But on your deathbed, won’t you be far prouder of yourself for playing a superhero in real life?”
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