goes. When I said that I’d give you a second chance tonight at your show, I only said it to avoid the media backlash that was sure to come if I’d said no. I mean, look at the situation: you’ve played this well. You have the media eating out of the palm of your hand, thinking that I ditched you for Jesse, when you’re the one who bailed on me. It was you who told me that you needed to focus on your album release and tour, and it was you who stopped answering my calls.
Maybe you were being sincere in your recent interviews, and maybe you really meant what you said earlier tonight. Maybe you realized that you do miss me. At one time, I honestly thought you were a cool, warm, and caring guy. I would have loved to have kept dating you. Since then, though, so much has happened that I have no way of knowing what’s real and what’s being staged as a way for you to maximize publicity, gain sympathy, and keep yourself in the headlines, all to sell out shows and propel your new single and album to the top of the charts.
As for Jesse, no, I’m not seeing him. I never was. The way you two have played the media both astonishes and appalls me. You might want to give him a call and hang out sometime, though, because I think you’d find you have a lot in common.
Take care.
Em
She sent the email before she could change her mind, then powered down her laptop. She put it on the floor beside her bed and looked over at the clock. It was 2:43 a.m. and time to go to bed. For the first time in weeks, she was looking forward to reading the entertainment headlines when she woke up. And she knew, as she laid her head to rest against the pillow, that she was going to sleep well tonight.
* * *
Sunlight spilled across Emily’s bed when she opened her eyes six hours later. Her apartment was silent. She remembered she’d turned off her phone before going to sleep the night before and knew that once she turned it on, there would be at least a few voicemail messages and texts she’d need to deal with.
That was a task better left for after her first cup of coffee, she thought, stretching her arms and sitting up. She swung her legs over to the side of her bed and stood up, then went into the kitchen to start the coffee maker.
When she was fully armed with a steaming mug of coffee, she returned to her bedroom and turned on her laptop. When she opened Twitter, she saw that overnight, over four thousand people had followed her. More were adding her by the minute.
She clicked to see the tweets that had been directed to her and paused when she saw one from Wally Hood: Em2theWorld Got your email. Check your messages. Looking forward to our chat.
She opened her Zeeked email and found Wally’s reply. His response asked her to meet with him at Toast for lunch and a long overdue conversation. He included a phone number, requesting that she call him if she couldn’t make it.
A smile spread across her lips. She opened Twitter again and clicked the reply link to Wally’s tweet.
WallyHoodHWood I’ll see you at noon.
She sent the tweet and sat back against the pillows on her bed. Taking a sip of coffee, she looked out her bedroom window, thinking she’d text Shelby to see if she was up for a hike or going to the beach later this afternoon.
First, though, she had an interview to give. It was time to let her voice be heard.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Three months later
Happily Em-er After
SPOTTED: Emily Watts at the Microsoft Theater in downtown L.A. last night, for a rare appearance at the star-studded Reach Out ‘N’ Rescue charity event. Sources in attendance say she looked as radiant as ever, and rumor has it that there’s a new man in her life.
It’s been several months since Emily’s then-rocky personal life was a well-documented fixture of the Hollywood scene, when she was involved in what was thought to be a love triangle between her, Blistering Twilight singer Cory Sampson, and Jesse Cinder, guitarist for what we hear is the now-defunct indie band Ashes of Brooklyn. Both C-Samp and Flameboy were notably absent from last night’s fundraiser, which was held to raise money for several animal rescue non-profit organizations.
C-Samp, we’re told,