So I say the words out loud, seeing if it makes a difference. “I love Logan. I’m in love with Logan.”
The acknowledgment helps. I’m still cold and numb, but there’s a light now, something hopeful, like the first star in a night sky. Like something I can cling to in order to keep from drowning in the darkness.
My phone starts singing the ringtone I’ve assigned for my agent, and thank God I’m at a stoplight so I can dig through my purse to find it. “Thank, fuck,” I say, skipping a formal greeting. “The shoot with LaRue? Fucking terrible. It was unsafe, un-female friendly. The director—I still don’t know his fucking name—treated me as an inferior. The dressing room didn’t lock. Bruce Madden walked right in and made himself at home with my body. I swear he would have raped me if LaRue hadn’t walked in.” Talking about it renews my anger. I’m shaking by the time I get through everything. “I just…I’m so upset, Lucy, I can’t even.”
“Take a deep breath,” Lucy says calmly. “Now, are you driving? You’re upset. Should you pull over?”
“Probably. But I need to keep driving.” I’m not sure where I am. There are places I could park—a gas station, a McDonald’s parking lot—but the thought of stopping makes me panic, as though Bruce might be driving right behind me, just waiting for me to let my guard down.
Lucy doesn’t try to argue. “Understood. Be careful, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now, first. Are you hurt?”
I shake my head before realizing she can’t see me. “No. I’m just worked up.”
“Would you rather I call you back?”
“Don’t hang up!” I didn’t realize how desperate I was to talk to someone until now. “I just. I might not be very coherent. But I want to talk. Please.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Do you want to tell me what happened with Bruce?”
“He harassed me. He scared me.” I tell her the whole thing in as much detail as I can muster. I hear myself as I’m talking, and I know I sound melodramatic. I begin to doubt myself again.
But Lucy is supportive and reassuring, treating my every emotion as valid and legitimate.
“And Bruce is the reason you quit the scene?” she asks eventually.
“No—wait. How do you know—?” I try to remember if I mentioned quitting but can’t recall.
“I just got off the phone with LaRue,” she explains.
Of course he called her immediately. I probably wasn’t even out of the house before he’d dialed her number. “Whatever he said to you is full of shit. That situation was one hundred percent not appropriate.”
“I understand, and I’m sorry.” There’s a beat before she goes on. “But you left me a phone message before you even got to the set, didn’t you? Saying you couldn’t do the scene?”
“Oh, great. You think I’m being ridiculous too.”
“I didn’t say that, Devi. I’m trying to get a clear picture of the situation so that I can get you out of this the best I can.”
“Get me out of what? I’m not the one who did anything that needs getting out of. Is LaRue trying to sue or…?” I trail off, overwhelmed by the prospect of a legal battle.
“Yes, he wants to be reimbursed for money lost.” Well, fuck. There goes my apartment. “But I’m pretty sure I can get him to drop that, Devi. I’m more concerned about what he’s going to do to your reputation going forward.”
“He can shit on my rep all he wants. I’m not doing het porn. I thought I was cut out for it, but I was wrong.” I know it’s not fair to assume all those sets are alike, but I’m not about to take the chance of repeating this afternoon’s experience.
And there’s the other reason I won’t consider doing het porn again anytime soon. The reason that has nothing to do with Bruce or LaRue and that has everything to do with Logan.
Lucy is silent for a second. “It’s not just male/female scenes I’m concerned about. Hagen has a lot of pull in the industry. I’m afraid you’re going to see fallout in your regular jobs as well.”
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
I bite the inside of my cheek and fight the new set of tears that are threatening to fall. “Do you think I did the wrong thing by walking off the set?”
“No.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “But there are rules in this industry. Rules I don’t agree with, but they’re there all the same. They’re unethical and illegal even, but very few people take sex workers seriously. If you’re not making any formal allegations then we have a better shot at coming out of this, but it’s going to be hard to not point fingers at something if we’re trying to get out of your contractual obligation to LaRue Hagen’s company.”
I bite my cheek harder, taking in what she’s said. Nothing here is a revelation. I know what kind of world I’m part of. I’m not that ignorant.