Anjali lets me talk, not interrupting at all, which is so unlike her that I know I must be a more pitiful mess than I thought. Finally, once I peter out, she says, “You have to stop blaming yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“It was dumb. You told me this was a dumb thing to do.”
“I did,” she agrees. “But you keep acting like this is some moral failure on your part.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? About tricking people?”
“Do you think Fangli is ethically lacking? That she’s a bad person?”
“No.”
“Then give yourself the same consideration.”
“Is this life coach advice from the good days?”
“Saw it on an online advice column but it remains valid.”
“Maybe.” Easier said than done.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Wait for ZZTV to drag my name through the mud and move to Tierra del Fuego?”
“It’s cold there. Damp, too.”
“I’ll bring a coat,” I say morosely.
Her sigh gusts into the phone. “Do you have a plan B? What about Eppy?”
“I’m working on it.”
“Are you working on it or sitting on your ass checking your phone to see if ZZTV released your name?”
I pause. “The latter.”
“When this started, you said Fangli’s team could handle any scandals.”
“I did.”
“Nothing has happened yet.”
“Not yet.”
There’s a bang, then Anjali’s voice comes back on. “That was me hitting the phone in frustration,” she says. “Here’s what you’re going to do.”
Despite myself I grin. Anjali’s back in fighting form. “What am I going to do?”
“I’m going to set up a Google alert for your name and I’ll tell you if anything happens. You’re going to turn off your Wi-Fi and work on Eppy.”
“I might need to research something.”
“Save everything you need to search and send it to me. I’ll copy and paste the web pages.”
“This is ridiculous. You don’t have time for this.”
“I’ve been on the phone with you for an hour. Trust me that I have the four minutes to set an alert. Plus it’s a scientific fact I made up that 98.9 percent of internet searches are only mindless surfing.”
“Anjali…”
“Two days. Try for two days. Give yourself a break, Gracie. Leave your phone at home. See your mom. Work on a project you love. Let me help.”
I lie back on the couch and nod before I remember she can’t see. “Thanks.”
“Now turn off your damn phone and get some rest.”
***
Over the next two days, Anjali texts me updates every few hours that only say “None” so I know she’s checking for me. It feels good to have her on my side. I think she and Fangli would have liked each other.
It’s not so bad being myself full-time again. It’s a relief to not have to be a person I’m not, and I was never able to take full advantage of the wine or food as Fangli anyway. I miss talking with Fangli more than I expected and a few times find myself thinking of things to tell her before I remember that part of my life is done.
I also, because I’m a bit materialistic, miss that expensive perfume collection. I left it all there, every little bottle, so they couldn’t accuse me of stealing. I even left that gorgeous jumpsuit but mostly because it reminded me of Sam.
I refuse to think about Sam at all.
It’s particularly hard at night. I never realized how empty my life had become until I no longer had Fangli and Sam there to talk with at the end of the day. Finally, driven by a need for human connection, I head to Cheri’s coffee shop. I want a friendly face if only for a few minutes of surface-level in-person conversation.
“Hey, babe, long time.” Cheri automatically starts making a latte for me but I stop her.
“Just a coffee today.”
“Got it. What you been up to?”
“Ah, you know.” Pretending to be a movie star, falling in love with another movie star, worrying about worldwide humiliation, as one will.
“Right, right.” She glances over. “I got chocolate.”
“Double chocolate scone.”
“You can have the last one.” She plucks it out with the tongs and hands it over. “Loni’s preggers again and can’t stand the smell of it, so her kid’s stuck eating the lemon ones.”
We chat about nothing for a few minutes, and as she’s about to hand me the cup, Cheri says, “Hey, some dude was in looking for you day before yesterday.”
Please not ZZTV. “Me, by name?”
“Yeah, superhot Asian guy.” Then her dark eyes narrow. “There he is now. You need to go out the back?”
I turn.
It’s Sam.
Cheri’s voice fades out behind me as my body kicks into fight-or-flight, adrenaline making my ears hum and the muscles in my stomach clench so hard I almost hunch over. I didn’t expect this. Sam came looking for me. Why?
He looks tired but when our eyes meet, his shoulders drop slightly, as if in relief.
“I’m good,” I tell Cheri.
Something in my voice makes her eyebrows rise. “Hey, I got your back here. No one gets hassled in my shop.”
“Thanks, Cheri. He’s a…” I hesitate. “He’s a friend.”
My heart is high in my throat and part of me wants to talk to him more than anything. With Sam, I felt alive, complete. Too bad that was based on a lie, too, and I don’t want any more of that in my life. I can’t trust someone who doesn’t trust me.
Sam hasn’t moved from the door and I point to a table against the wall. He joins me after a slight hesitation.
“You left without saying goodbye.” He speaks even before he sits down. “You blocked my number. I didn’t know where you were, if you were safe.”
A little glow lights deep down. Sam was worried about me. He cared, even though he thought I sold them out.
“How did you know I was here?” The flowered plate clinks as I set it on the table. I’m too nervous to eat now.
“I checked your apartment and your mom’s place. This was where Mikey took the photo so I thought it was worth a shot.”
The glow expands at the work he put into finding me. “I sent an email to Fangli.”
“Fangli is not me. Why did you leave?”
“ZZTV knows what I was doing.” I adjust my hat, thankful I wore it instead of walking out the door with my bedhead on full display. At least I put on lipstick.
“We know.” He looks straight at me. “We’ve taken care of it.”
“I overheard you and Fangli,” I say. “You think I was the one to leak to the reporters.”
He looks astonished. “I never said such a thing.”
“Really? You’re such a fucking actor.” I poke viciously at the scone. “You never thought I was in it for the money? You never pointed out that I was doing it because I lost my job?”
“That was before I knew you.” He hasn’t stopped looking at me. “Gracie, I promise I trusted you. I know you wouldn’t have done such a thing.”
That glow roars back, heating me from my bones.
“I came to find you to help smooth things over with Fangli. Your letter hurt her.”
Fangli. Fangli again. The glow disappears under a wave of sheer disappointment. I thought he was here for me, finally, but even now, he’s her friend before my…whatever we were. I want him to care about me with the same openness. I won’t cry but the restrained tears knot up in my throat and make it hard to breathe.
Click. Click-click-click. We look up, startled. The flashes come through the window thanks to the photographer, Mikey, resplendent in his trench coat.
Sam swears under his breath but rallies lightning fast to slip into his part. He smiles at me, that same look he gave me at every gala and event, the practiced easy smile of a leading man. Enough of my Fangli training comes through that now I can at least stay seated instead of hiding under the table, but there’s no way I can look happy. Not right now.
Cheri comes over, scowling. “This dude again?” She stands in the window, arms akimbo and calls over her shoulder. “Out the back. Same as before.”
“Gracie, listen,” Sam says. “We need you to come back.”
We. Not him. Always for Fangli. I thought he wanted me, but the truth is bare in front of me. He admitted he tried hard to find me but it was to get me to be her double again. I can’t even be envious that she holds such a place in his heart. The bells on the door jangle and I abandon my scone to head for the back door. I glance behind me to see Sam and Cheri acting as if to prevent the photographer from following me.