“Then come over to Ignacio’s place. Our place.”
“Okay. Okay. Hele—”
“Don’t worry. We’re gonna sort this shit out. Just come over.”
“Okay.” Helene ended the call before she could panic anymore. Amanda’s hands were trembling when she switched over to Instagram. Thirty-four minutes and she already had six hundred more followers. She sent her account to private. Then deactivated her Twitter. She didn’t even bother with the forty-step process to delete her Facebook. She quickly changed into presentable clothing, then sped across town to Ignacio’s house in Silver Lake.
* * *
All the drive did was ratchet her nerves up from a solid twelve to a very uncomfortable sixteen and a half. She needed to get in touch with Sam and she needed to figure out a way to murder Dru while making it very clear to the courts that her homicide was completely justifiable. Apparently, Druhaddecided ratting Amanda out would help her career. Who else would leak those photos in such a spectacularly invasive way?
Ignacio’s housekeeper, Meryl, buzzed her through the massive iron gates that led to the obnoxiously steep driveway that brought you up to their house. Helene was waiting for her in the ridiculous fourteen-foot doorway. She was wearing this effortless yellow maxi dress that made her dark brown skin glow. Amanda had to stop herself from flinging herself into a sobbing heap in Helene’s arms, but as soon as she got out of her car, Helene looked at her, her head inclined in that way that was pure love and concern. Tears started flowing down her face. She stepped into Helene’s arms and wept.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find out who we have to kill and then we’ll make it look like a very intentional message to anyone who thinks about fucking with you again.”
Amanda stepped back, wiping her face. “It was Dru. I know it.”
“Oh, I’m gonna fuck that bitch up. Come inside.”
“How do you look even better than when you left? You look amazing,” Amanda said as they walked into the immaculately decorated 1920s Art Deco style home. She’d been to Helene’s apartment plenty of times, but only once to Ignacio’s house, which they were now sharing. Award-winning directors sure knew how to live.
“Sun-kissed and dicked down. Girl. Honeymoon of a lifetime.”
“Where’s Ignacio?”
“He’s on the phone. He’s coming down in a sec. Come on.”
Amanda followed her deeper into the house to the kitchen. For some reason she couldn’t help but think of the welcoming warmth that filled Miss Leona’s kitchen. Her heart clenched on itself again. Somehow she’s felt like she’d betrayed his whole family.
She took a seat that Helene offered in the breakfast nook tucked against a large bay window that looked out over the backyard. Helene grabbed them some fancy boxed water Amanda had a seen at a few charity events, then sat opposite in her own chair.
“Okay. Tell me literally everything. Last I knew you basically told him to kick rocks at our reception and now you’re a couple.”
“Yeah, about that.” Amanda rehashed everything from the moment they met again in front of Delightly to the night before when Dru had essentially forced her to defend Sam’s honor and their new relationship. “He’s back from Bali on Sunday, but I can’t wait that long to talk to him. It’s the middle of the night there.”
“And you know for sure Dru did this?” Helene asked as Ignacio came into the room, his light brown skin also a bit darker due to their tropical honeymoon getaway. He greeted them both with kisses on the cheek and then settled in in his silent, supportive observer way that made him both an amazing friend and filmmaker.
“I mean, I don’t think anyone in his family would do this. They aren’t this bored or petty. And Sam would have told me.”
“He would have. He’s not about this life. Not like this,” Helene asserted. “And no one at the ranch?”
“I mean, it’s possible—” Amanda’s phone chimed in her purse. She looked down at it, her eyes springing wide. “That’s Dru’s alert tone.”
“Answer it,” Ignacio said, his voice deadly. Amanda appreciated that he was ready to fight Dru on her behalf. She pulled out her phone and looked at the text message.
See you locked your Instagram. Smart.
I wouldn’t check Twitter if I were you.
A lot of people are wondering the same thing I am. How someone so underwhelming could land Sam Pleasant. Somehow makes him seem less attractive. Weird. Anyway. Thanks for saving me from his horrible taste in literally everything. Byeeeeeeee!
Amanda slid her phone across the table so Helene and Ignacio could read it. She shouldn’t have been shocked by the painful way Dru had just implicated herself, but the dig about her impacting Sam’s appeal had really stung. She could only imagine what people were saying about her and Sam. What they were saying about her. Amanda knew exactly how cruel people could be online, especially over something that shouldn’t matter like someone’s looks. She knew she was beautiful and she loved every inch of her curvy body, but that didn’t matter to avatared masses who’d already decided the types of faces, bodies, and skin tones that were acceptable in certain circles. She knew all kinds of people pictured Sam with someone more like Helene. Hell, someone more like Dru. Not a plus-sized, now unemployed nobody.
“Oh, okay. So she wants to fight. Cool,” Helene said as she handed the phone to her husband.
“I’m trying really hard not to be sick right now. Like, I had this feeling in the back of my mind that Dru was going to be the one to ruin this—”
“She hasn’t ruined anything yet. Did she make your day very unpleasant? Yes, okay. This sucks. But we’re not letting this bitch-ass bitchruinanything. You have to talk to Sam.”