Page 42 of Deck the Hauls

“Of course, what’s up?”

I stood up from the couch and stepped over to the window. The sky was cloudy now. Hopefully that wouldn’t affect the shoot with Mihira later.

I swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat.

“I know when I told you about Phillip, you said it was better not to make a fuss, but I’ve since learned that he’s done the same thing to others as well. A reporter has reached out. She’s trying to write an exposé on Phillip. I’m one of the only women who didn’t sign an NDA with him about it and she wants me to go on the record. To make matters worse, I just received an anonymous note which has to be from him, threatening to ruin my career even more if I speak out.” I let out a shaky breath. “I don't know what to do, Brittany. I want to take him down, make sure he never does it again. But I’m also worried about my career. Things finally feel like they are getting back on track. And who knows if the article will actually make a difference. Perhaps he’ll just deny everything and nothing will happen. What do you think?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I agree, Em. It’s terrible timing. Yes, speaking out against Hollywood’s most powerful director is likely to impact your career. I mean, look at what he's done so far. He could definitely make things worse for you. And with his money and connections both in and outside of Hollywood, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was able to quash the allegations. Men like that are pretty much untouchable.”

My heart pounded in my head. Shit.

“So you don’t think I should do it?”

“No. You’ve got everything to lose and nothing to gain.”

“But what about all the other women he’s done this to—and will keep doing it to, unless someone takes a stand?”

“I hate to say this, and I don’t agree with it, but this is just part of Hollywood. There are some rich, powerful men who are so successful, so important to the Hollywood money machine, that they can get away with things like this. Everyone knows Phillip Weatherstone is a piece of shit. His temper and ego are legendary and there have been rumors swirling for years about sexual misconduct. But he’s won six Oscars and has an impressive list of blockbuster hits. The studios love him. The producers love him. Actors want to work with him. Unfortunately, this sort of stuff is just the price of stardom.”

My chest ached. It shouldn’t be like this. Letting someone abuse their position of power because they were good at their job?

“These things are always ‘he said, she said’ too. Do you have any physical evidence, any witnesses, to support your story?” Brittany asked.

I bit my lip. “No.”

“Well, he’ll probably deny it all, and the story will go away. But you may end up getting labelled as ‘difficult’ or ‘too outspoken.’”

I let out a long exhale. “Okay, thanks, Brittany.” I glanced at my watch. “I’d better get back to work. I appreciate the honest answer.”

“I’m sorry. I know it sucks—and what happened to you and those other women is horrible—but I wanted to be honest. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before we find you another role, okay?”

Brittany hung up, and I stared at the gray clouds moving across the sky, tears welling in my eyes.

That discussion had not given me the clarity I’d hoped for. If anything, it had made it all feel even more complicated. There’d been rumors about Phillip swirling for years, and no one had done anything about it? How could so many people turn a blind eye to his behavior? Was this really just part and parcel of being an actor? Surely not.

Perhaps I should keep quiet as Brittany suggested, focus on rebuilding my career that Phillip destroyed.

But if I did that, wasn’t I just complicit in the Hollywood cover-up, leaving Phillip free to continue his horrific behavior?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DANA

“Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la la.” Emily’s brow furrowed in an adorable look of concentration as she balanced on a ladder, twisting twinkle lights around a freshly cut fir tree we’d positioned next to the barn’s entrance.

I suspected she had no idea she was singing out loud. It was a freezing-cold but gloriously sunny day, with a blue sky that seemed to go on forever. Perfect weather to be spending time with Emily and my friends outside, even if it did involve far too many Christmas-related activities for my liking.

“‘Tis the seas—oops. Sorry.” Emily shot me an apologetic grimace.

“That’s okay,” I said, grinning.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, so are you coming around to Christmas carols, all thanks to my incredible voice?” Her lips curled into a cheeky smile.

I snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

I lifted my hammer and smashed it down, driving a metal stake through the hole in the foot of a light-up baby reindeer statue. It was similar to the ones Dad had bought for my parents’ front yard—shit. I still hadn’t called Mom about Thanksgiving.