insisting that it was her insecurity talking. He would never accept the blame for her feelings of inadequacy.
As far as other women were concerned, Amanda knew that Carson could get grabby, especially after a couple of drinks, but she had no idea of the extent of it. She often witnessed his hand grazing a woman’s buttocks in a way that could be deemed accidental only the first time it happened, not the second or the third or the twentieth. Once, at her birthday dinner with a table of her friends, Carson became so handsy with their young waitress that it decimated the night. When she approached the table to inquire about dessert she stood as far from him as possible. He got up to go to the men’s room, pausing at her side to listen to the choices. As he stepped behind the poor girl and began massaging her shoulders, all appetites were lost. It was painful to watch, heartbreaking really, yet no one stopped him. The entire table, Amanda included, just sat silently as the young waitress rattled off the list of desserts like she was calling out casualties of war. By the time she got to the tiramisu, a lone tear formed in her eye and rolled down her cheek. She ran off to the kitchen while a clueless Carson headed to the men’s room. One of Amanda’s friends’ husbands handed the manager a hundred-dollar bill for the waitress with an apology, but no one stood up to Carson. If asked, he would probably say it was absurd, and that the waitress appreciated his kind gesture, that she enjoyed having the great Carson Cole’s hands kneading her tired shoulders.
A few days later, Amanda ran off to Disney World with the girls. She surprised them at school with packed bags and promises of breakfast with Cinderella and dinner with Minnie Mouse. Her youngest daughter, Sadie, had insisted on going on the teacup ride three times in a row, and when they were done, she vomited on Amanda’s sandals. While she was washing the remnants of regurgitated funnel cake and cotton candy from between her toes, Amanda heard them yell, “Daddy, Daddy!” and they both ran into their father’s arms. He had followed the charges on her credit card and found them. He whispered in Amanda’s ear, “If you ever pull anything like this again, I’ll have you charged with kidnapping, and you won’t even be able to get a job here as Dopey.”
After that her mind turned from fantasizing about leaving him to fantasizing about his death. She would lie in bed thinking of the phone call from Cedars-Sinai saying, “Your husband had a massive heart attack,” or of a policeman at their door, “Your husband’s car swerved off Mulholland Drive.” Then she could be the lovely widow, and her marriage would not have been a failure, like her parents’ marriage was.
The girls both idolized their movie-making father, and the feeling was mutual. How they saw him meant more to Carson than a dozen Oscar nominations. Because of this, he was careful that they only saw “good” Carson. The loving husband that sent their mother flowers weekly and for no apparent reason. The doting dad, who, upon hearing his daughter choose her Wonder Woman action figure for show-and-tell, arranged for Gal Gadot to show up to class in full costume. The famed producer had such an eye for talent, art, and entertainment that Variety dubbed him “Hollywood’s Napoleon,” his diminutive size and impish looks contrasting greatly with his immense power.
Until the “Time’s Up” movement encouraged his previously whispered-about behavior to be shouted from the Hollywood Hills, and thus a window was created through which his wife could orchestrate her escape.
Luckily, when the news broke of Carson’s predatory behavior, Amanda was in a really good place to stand on her own two feet. She had begun seeing a therapist a year earlier and, with her help, developed the ability to ignore the disparaging things he said and believe in herself again. She was feeling stronger than she had in years. While there was no leaving the great Carson Cole before—not in one piece, that is—she was confident she could get out on the momentum of the scandal and his public crucifixion. With the world watching, he would have no choice but to behave civilly.
A woman leaves seven times before it sticks. She stopped counting the times and decided that whatever one this was, time was most definitely up. She packed