Fade To Black Read online

  “You don’t have to be.” Sloane shook her head, knowing she shouldn’t have asked. “Thanks for everything you and Melinda have done for me.”

  “Of course.” Another kind smile, followed by a nod.

  “You’re bailing me out again … I owe you everything.”

  “No,” Dominic said. “The only debt that’s being paid back is the one Melinda and I owe Wentz for the underhanded tactics that asshole has used to compete with Shellter productions over the years. Soon, we’ll have that paid off, and with an absurd amount of interest. In the meantime, I need you to promise that you’ll finish the film.”

  “Shellter is about to have another Oscar-winning film in its catalog,” Sloane said, sitting up straighter to prove her faith.

  “I absolutely believe that,” Dominic said.

  “I just wish …” She shook her head.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Sloane, we have a tremendous amount invested in you. If I can do something to make your job easier, tell me.”

  “I just wish I knew what you were doing. I know, I know—” She waved her hands “—plausible deniability. I get it. It’s just hard for me to understand your commitment to bringing him down when these horrible things keep happening and I don’t know what your plans are to stop it. But I appreciate all you’re doing for me, and now that Jolie’s safe, I’ll be more focused. And when Hollywood is finished, he’ll be finished, too.”

  His usual charming smile morphed into something predatory. When he spoke, his typical measured tone took a sudden and rather severe shift. “You take care of the movie. Melinda and I will take care of the rest. And if I can take a shit on Wentz’s rotting corpse when it’s all said and done, then all the better.”

  Sloane wasn’t sure how to respond. She appreciated the faith, but Dominic’s brutal addendum caught her by surprise. She was grateful to have lived for so long on his good side. The ruthlessness in his words and expression when discussing Wentz was downright terrifying.

  But isn’t that what she wanted and needed right now? Someone to hate that monster as much as she did? The Shellys had struck without mercy in front of her a few times before. They didn’t obscure their intentions or actions because neither of them ever viewed their behavior as worthy of hiding. Melinda and Dominic hadn’t always told Sloane everything, plausible deniability and all that, but they struck her as honest about who they were overall, even when it came to behaviors that might otherwise leave her with chills.

  “Alejandro, please,” Sloane said to fill the silence.

  “Alejandro it is.” Dominic offered Sloane his regular smile, followed by a change of subject. “How is it going with Orson?”

  “Oh.” The question caught her off guard. “Things are going … good. I guess.”

  “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “I’m not embarrassed.” Sloane was totally embarrassed.

  “Of course we knew it was happening,” Dominic said, not making her feel any better.

  “He told you?”

  “Orson would never do that, so no, but it’s fair to say he knew we’d be aware. Beck is one of our biggest assets. You, and this film, are one of our biggest investments. Shellter Productions can’t afford to be surprised by a romance between its top talent and its newest director, can we?”

  “No … I suppose not.”

  “You don’t have to look like that.” His voice was still so gentle. “Staying on top of the information doesn’t mean we don’t care about you or your feelings, Sloane. Nor does it mean Melinda or I see either of you as props. But you are both Shellter assets, and given the numbers involved, I’m sure we can all agree that the investments are substantial.”

  “Seems like you’ve made plenty on Orson.”

  “We have,” Dominic agreed. “But not nearly as much as we’re going to. And so far, nothing on you. The point is, staying ahead of the information helps us to manage it.”

  “You mean manage us.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I mean manage the perception. You’ve been through a trial by media before. You of all people should understand that controlling the story is everything. I didn’t caution you against a relationship with Orson, nor did I force one upon you. But I do appreciate the development and can already see how we’ll want to leverage this romance for—”

  “You’re always thinking about publicity.” Sloane wasn’t even sure if she meant that as an insult.

  “Of course I am. That’s my job. Isn’t that what you want me to do? Isn’t that my role in this, to make West Hollywood Sunset a CGI free blockbuster?”

  “Yes, absolutely. I understand what you’re saying, and I appreciate all the creative ways you and Melinda have to grab a ton of attention and make different parts of the business work together. I guess I just don’t want my relationship with Orson to be part of the press junket.”

  His tone shifted, ever so slightly yet more than enough. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you about the night of your accident. The two of you got caught having dinner together. So you already decided this was going to happen. I had nothing to do with that, but you can bet I’ll have something to do with how that reality is handled. Your relationship with Orson will be part of the Sunset press because whether or not that was your intention, you made that happen. And now, we might as well use it to our advantage.”

  “So I should just get over it.” A statement instead of a question.

  “There are consequences to dating one of the most famous men in the world.” Dominic smiled, not saying the words, but yes, it was time for her to get over it.

  Even if she couldn’t argue with his logic, Sloane didn’t like the feeling that the Shellys were using her … at least not more than she was using them.

  “Thanks again.” She stood.

  “You’ll love Alejandro.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Monday. We’ll get this right.” Dominic walked Sloane to the door, then brightened thanks to whatever he saw on the other side. “Selena! Are you here to see Melinda?”

  As Sloane got closer to the door, she saw a woman who appeared to be in her early fifties. She had a wide smile, pleasant wrinkles, and a big head of healthy blonde hair. Selena Nash. Sloane was a fan.

  “I’m early,” Selena said, her voice carrying the slightest hint of a Texas drawl. “I drove down from Almond Park, but there was zero traffic until I hit LA, so I have like half an hour before we’re supposed to meet. Don’t worry about me, though, I’ve been reading.” She held up her phone to show them.

  “Selena, meet Sloane Alexander. She’s working on one of our marquee projects. Sloane, meet Selena Nash. She’s been invaluable as a consultant for us, and host of—“

  “I watch your show,” Sloane said, surprised to feel a little embarrassed. “I love it.”

  “Thank you.” Then, looking every bit as abashed as Sloane felt, Selena added, “Remaking Christmas is the best.”

  “I’ll let Melinda know you’re here, but she might not be able to—”

  “Really, don’t worry about me.” Selena held up her phone again. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I can keep her company,” Sloane offered, surprising herself again.

  “Well, then, I’ll leave you ladies to it.” Then Dominic closed the door with yet another smile.

  Sloane sat next to her. “So, do you—”

  “I’m sorry, but I gotta ask,” Selena said, cutting her off. “You don’t have to tell me, and I know all about the Shellys’ NDAs and whatever, but I’m also involved in several of their projects, and you just have to tell me …” She leaned in and whispered, “Are you making a movie about Liam Wentz?”

  “I am.” Sloane nodded, proud to tell her.

  “I hope you bury him alive. He’s a quintessential predator. There’s nothing you can do to that man that he doesn’t deserve.”

  “What makes you say that? I mean, of course I agree, but do you
have … first-hand knowledge? Have you talked to someone he hurt?”

  “Nothing first hand, no. But I’ve read a few anonymous accounts. And I’ve seen hours of interviews. Glib, full of superficial charm, a grandiose sense of self-worth.” Selena seemed to get angrier as she spoke. “Pathological lying, the manipulation of others, a total lack of empathy or remorse.” She shook her head. “And zero ability to accept personal responsibility.”

  Selena seemed equally fascinated and engaged.

  Sloane was both acutely uncomfortable and rooted to her seat.

  She wanted to stay as long as Selena kept talking, while also feeling the need to flee immediately.

  “That all sounds a lot like Liam Wentz,” Sloane replied.

  “The problem is that we don’t know enough about his childhood to figure out what broke him.”

  “Does it have to be something from his childhood?”

  “It doesn’t have to be, but it usually is. With men like him, anti-social behaviors and poor impulse control are usually present during or prior to adolescence. That’s also the period in their lives when they first learn to obscure their nature and deflect the sort of investigative attention that might promote the wrong kind of question.”

  “You mean that’s when they learn to manipulate everything and everyone around them?”

  “Yes, that’s absolutely right,” Selena agreed. “That’s when they learn to operate.”

  “Like how?” Sloane had heard a lot of this from her childhood therapist, but it sounded more direct, and somehow more valuable, coming from Selena. Maybe she was better at this than Dr. Diana had been, or maybe Sloane was simply more able to hear it now.

  “Like, all the stuff you lived through. The quiet little horrors Wentz used to manipulate you and Nicole and who knows how many other little girls before or since.”

  “So, gaining our trust.”

  “Not just your trust, but your mothers’.”

  “He might have been able to write a check for that,” Sloane bitterly replied. “At least in my case.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “No.” Selena’s question made their exchange feel a little too much like therapy for her comfort, but Sloane knew it was her fault for saying that. She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “What you really mean is that your mother didn’t make you feel protected.”

  “No. She didn’t.”

  “And yet, that’s what you needed from her more than anything else.”

  “Yes. It was.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” Selena nodded and gently touched Sloane on the arm. “Do you feel that on some subconscious level your mom knew what was happening?”

  She nodded, now wanting to cry. None of this was new, but it had been a while since she’d said any of it out loud. “He would always give me presents, and I never wanted his presents, but Mom said I had to take them because it would be rude to refuse them.”

  “Presents like what?”

  “Like jewelry or clothes … one time underwear.”

  “Underwear?” Selena repeated. “That’s … bold.”

  “They weren’t lacy or sexy or anything, just a pack of multicolored underwear in there with a bunch of other clothes and stuff. But I told her that it made me uncomfortable, and she said I was making too big a deal about it. Just like when he wanted to talk about sex.”

  Selena shifted in her seat, appearing bothered, though not at all surprised. “What did he want to talk about.”

  “Sex,” Sloane repeated, before she explained. “I don’t even remember the specifics. I was too young to have the context for what he was saying, or really understand any of it, which looking back now I can see what he was trying to do. Those exchanges were wildly inappropriate, but that was the point. He was trying to make sex sound normal, or even fun, despite how young I was.”

  “Right.” Selena nodded. “It wasn’t just the actions, he was making an effort to desensitize you to the vocabulary around sex. How often did he touch you — casually, I mean?”

  “All the time. He used to hug me a lot, then he started kissing me on the top of my head all the time, before he moved to my cheek.”

  Selena was shaking her head. “Like I said, Liam Wentz is the quintessential predator. It’s horrifying what we do know about him. I don’t even want to consider the worst possibilities.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That man has a lot of power, and he also has a lot of property, meaning he can do whatever he wants if he finds the right place to do it. What if he’s abducted some poor young girl? Not even an actress, but maybe someone from another country that no one is even looking for?”

  Sloane hated every part of this conversation, but that didn’t mean it was one she had any ability to stop. “What kind of places?”

  Selena rattled off her response, apparently thrilled to have an answer ready. “If he had such a place, it would need to be close enough to his home base that he could come and go without a lot of fuss. Easy in, easy out, and no one watching. It could be a red-light area where most people are almost professionally minding their own business. Maybe the basement or back room of a night club or bar. An isolated landscape, or derelict area of the city where people are used to looking the other way.”

  “What about—”

  Sloane stopped as two things happened in unison. One, her phone sounded with a newly installed ringtone for Orson — the Gorillaz’ Clint Eastwood, a choice she still wasn’t sure of — and two, Melinda appeared on the other side of an opening door.

  “Selena! It’s great to see you.” She glanced at Sloane. “Dominic told me the two of you were out here. I’m glad you had the chance to meet.”

  Sloane silenced her still ringing phone, then looked up at her new friend with a smile. “Well, I guess that’s time.”

  Selena pulled a business card from her purse then handed it over to Sloane. “If you need anything at all, just give me a call. Anytime. I’m happy to help however I can.”

  “I will.” She probably wouldn’t. “Thank you.”

  Sloane wanted to stick around and hear all the things Selena might say, especially now that Melinda was joining the party. But she didn’t want to overstay her welcome, and she was suddenly very interested in what Orson might have to say.

  So she said her goodbyes then excused herself, returning his call on her way to the car.

  “You mind meeting me somewhere?” Orson asked without much of a hello.

  “You sure we’re allowed to do that?” Sloane asked, sounding a lot snippier than she meant to. “We should really be more careful about how we treat each other in public.”

  “This won’t be in public.” Orson’s reply felt like an arrow. “This is important.”

  “Of course,” she said, ashamed of her attitude. “Just tell me where.”

  She hated the answer, but that wasn’t about to stop her.

  “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Sloane

  Sloane took the pipe when Orson passed it her way, finally no longer embarrassed, then took a long drag of some truly delicious weed.

  “I know, right?” Ellis grinned at her.

  She nodded, holding the smoke, amused by Ellis and, surprisingly, this entire situation.

  Sloane had been sitting on his ancient couch for more than an hour now, and she still wasn’t sure what intrigued her most — The Brick, the weed, or Ellis Hunt Himself.

  Orson had asked her to meet him in his old neighborhood so he could introduce her to the “guy who might know more about Hollywood grime than anyone else in the world.” Sloane wasn’t sure if that was even remotely close to true and didn’t think she wanted to be anywhere near to such a person if so. But he texted her the address to The Brick and she started her drive from the Shellys to Orson’s old dump immediately.

  The building was six stories and looked more than a century old, with at least half of those decades having forgotten the
place enough to make it look like a crack den. The Brick was surrounded by newer buildings that appeared superior in every conceivable way, and according to the plaque out front, was actually called The Regency.

  Orson was waiting outside when she arrived. He took her by the arm then gently led her up the steps, past a pair of what Sloane assumed had to be prostitutes — one male and the other female — judging by the way they were dressed, and their offer of for a little on-the-clock stress relief, then past a man who might have been the oldest person she had ever seen.

  “How are you this fine afternoon?” the old man had wanted to know as Orson ushered her by.

  “That’s Angus,” Orson said, as if that explained everything.

  Up six flights of stairs because the elevator apparently only worked every other leap year, then Ellis was waiting outside his door, perhaps to make sure his friends weren’t accosted on their way up from the lobby.

  Ellis was a large man with a big red beard and intense yet friendly eyes. His presence, in a word, felt honest. And as deeply uncomfortable as Sloane had felt a few seconds before seeing him, despite having Orson by her side, something about the guy put her at immediate ease.

  And that was before the Green Unicorn.

  Though Ellis didn’t grow the weed himself, he might as well have considering how proud he was of the strain. It was “practically magic,” he said, and Orson agreed. Green Unicorn came from Humboldt, and there was only one farm in the world that grew it, though copycats were becoming a cottage industry. Sloane’s Hollywood childhood had permanently scared her off of drinking and drugs. That included weed, but after a little eye rolling from Orson and Ellis, she finally surrendered to a curiosity she’d been carrying for the last fifteen years by deciding to partake.

  Ellis took another drag, still shaking his head in mild bewilderment. To Orson, he said, “I still can’t believe that her first time riding is on a unicorn.”