Seasoned with Grace (23 page)

“Carol, where are your parents?” Grace asked.

Carol dropped her head and focused her gaze on her scars. Grace needed to know the status of Carol's parents before offering Carol the guest room. If they were active in her life, Grace wanted them included in whatever steps they took next.

There were generally three kinds of parents Grace had encountered during her time in the business. There were the control freaks, who kept their kids on a tight leash. They had to approve of their kids' wardrobe and makeup. The children basically couldn't use the bathroom on the set without their permission. Then there were the parents who were laissez-faire. They showed up to the shoot, but they were so involved in the little bit of limelight they received, they did not even pay attention to what they were approving. Last, and most definitely least, were the hands-off parents. Those parents signed their kids' lives over to the agency, and the only thing they checked on was how many zeros were on each check.

Tapping Carol's chin, Grace asked again, “Where are your parents?”

“I think they're in the South of France, vacationing. After the big payday from the Egyptian Silk contract, they decided it was time for them to go on vacation.” Tears fell from Carol's eyes and landed in the grooves of her scars. “They're touring Europe for the year. They call the house every couple of weeks. I've just been lying to them, saying things are great and I'm booking all these jobs.”

“You know, when this comes out, everything is going to change for both you and your parents,” Grace said.

“The thing I realized while watching your interview was we live our lives concerned about how things are going to affect people who don't care very much about our well-being. This is my truth,” Carol said, holding her scarred arms out. “If you're standing with me, I think I can handle the fire.”

Junell raised her hand from her spot on the couch. “May I interject?” she asked politely and earnestly. She'd been so quiet, Grace had almost forgotten she was there. “I think I know how this should be handled,” Junell continued. “We have to get your agent or publicist to agree to it first, but I think I have the perfect idea. Let's host a press party at Ethan's office. We'll have Carol there. She can tell them what happened to her and unveil the photos.”

“Hmmm . . .” Grace scratched the back of her neck. “Those pregnancy hormones must be really getting to your brain. Even if we show the photos, it will still be Javier Roberts's word against ours. Those photos aren't particularly incriminating in nature. That's the power of them. He can tell any story he wants. Photography is his medium, and he's had lots of practice explaining and justifying his art. If he takes a picture of a cow, he can convince people there's a bat in the photo. We have to one-up him.”

“I already have,” Carol said, digging into her messenger bag again. “The last time he touched me, I recorded it.” After fishing around for a few seconds, she withdrew a cell phone from her bag and placed it in Grace's hand. “It's all on there,” she said, with her top lip turned up. “After I went to hair and makeup to change looks, I snuck my phone on the set and stuffed it under a pillow behind me while he wasn't looking.”

Junell stomped her feet and clapped her hands several times. “Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus! This is exactly what we needed. Now we can have the party, reveal the photos. Carol can share her story and play the recording for any doubters and ask his other victims to join us in seeking justice against this vile, rotten pig.”

“Join
us?
” Grace asked slightly surprised. “When did this become
your
battle?”

“As soon as it became yours.” Junell stuffed her palms into the couch cushions, using them as leverage to get herself off the couch. “Just as Jonathan's soul was knit with David's, so is mine with yours. From the first day I met you in the office of Fresh Faces Modeling Agency, I loved you as my own soul,” she said, pressing down on her heart, then plucking away the one stray tear.

Junell went on. “Whatever bind you're in, I'm in. Whatever hole you're in, I'm in, and I have no plans of staying there. Just like it says in Revelation, chapter twelve, verse eleven. ‘And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony.' Let's see the scripture made manifest in our lives, girl.” Junell reached out and scooped Grace into a side hug. “Now, get Ethan on the phone and tell him we need this done yesterday. Carol, baby girl, you're going to have to sleep on the couch, 'cause it's too late for me to be driving back home. Where do you live?”

“New Jersey.”

“Yes, it's definitely way too late for that, and I'm too pregnant to be sleeping on somebody's leather couch.” Junell rubbed her belly. “That's how I wound up like this in the first place,” she said, laughing.

“Stop that,” Grace said, whacking Junell on the arm.

“The marriage bed is undefiled, honey. If you know like I know, you better marry that chocolate drop as soon as possible, before you both melt from the heat,” Junell said, creeping toward the stairs.

“Just toss some sheets down her for Carol please,” Grace called. “Carol, you can stay the night, or however long you need. Before I call my lawyer, I just want to make sure that you're cool with what we're about to do.”

Carol gripped her knees and nodded her half-shaved head.

“All righty, then. I'm going to call my guy to set everything up. You call your people when you have a chance, just to warn them. Even if they're not going to support you, let's not leave them hanging, okay, kid?”

Grace walked to the downstairs bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. She was not who she used to be, and she was glad. “Call Ethan,” she instructed her phone. “Ethan . . . I didn't expect you to pick up on the first ring.... Listen, I need you to send a courier over here now to pick up some photos. I need these photos blown up and put on display in the conference room.... Do you think it's too cold to use the rooftop deck . . . ? Ethan, don't worry about the details. Just listen to me. . . . We're going to have a press conference tomorrow morning. Make sure there are plenty of mimosas on hand and little finger foods. I'll also need some speakers to hook up to a cell phone.... What do you mean, you don't like how this sounds? You're going to love this.”

 

 

“Good morning, Alice,” Grace said as she approached Alice's desk. “This is Carol—”

“Carol Jasper, the Egyptian Silk girl. I'd recognize those eyes anywhere. What are you doing hooked up with Grace King?” Alice's caked-on, low-rent foundation cracked as she turned down the corners of her mouth like she'd gotten a whiff of rotten meat.

“We're here to see Ethan,” Grace said, answering for Carol.

“You're actually on time, Grace. That's different. I'll let him know you're here.”

“Take your time. We'll have a seat right here.” Grace sat down in one of the fluffy peach chairs that decorated Ethan's waiting area. This was the first time since Ethan became her lawyer that she'd taken a seat in the waiting area. Alice dropped the cup of coffee she was holding as Grace reclined in the chair with her legs crossed. Carol pulled a few tissues from the holder on Alice's desk and began to dab at the coffee on the rug.

Alice shook her head. “Grace, stop playing. What are you doing? Aren't you going to bust in there, like you usually do?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Grace said, “I'm sitting down. I'll wait. All things must be done in decency and in order.”

“Am I in the twilight zone or something?” Alice bent down and stuck her head under her desk, then stood up. “I didn't see Ashton under there. Which show is this for?” She laughed. “This ain't right. I never heard you quote the Bible.”

In all honesty, Grace was shocked herself, but during the month she'd been trapped in her house, all she had to do was read. Unfortunately, she'd never been one of those intellectual models known for their brains and beauty. The Bible Horace had given her the day she joined the church was the only book she had in her house. Grace pored over it day and night. She had replaced her yoga with daily scripture reading. This exchange was a sign that she was actually retaining some of the knowledge she was acquiring through the study of God's Word.

“I'm doing things differently now, Alice, and I'm truly sorry if I ever offended you in the past.”

“Offended me? You've done more than offend me.”

“But not more than what we have all done to Jesus,” Ethan interjected, placing his hand on Alice's shoulder.

Grace breathed a sigh of relief. Alice was just about to read her the riot act, and Grace wasn't sure if she was saved enough to handle that without giving her at least one good tongue-lashing.

“Good morning,” Ethan said, bowing slightly in Carol's direction.

“Ethan, this is Carol—” Grace said.

“Carol Jasper, the Egyptian Silk girl,” Alice said, cutting Grace off.

“Hi, Carol. Are you here to watch the fiasco, or are you part of the fiasco?”

Grace stood up and dusted off the shoulders of Ethan's cross-grained coral and gray blazer. “Hmmm . . . black trim,” Grace noted, lifting the lapel. “This is a nice suit. This won't be a fiasco. You'll be glad you set this up, Ethan.”

“I wish you'd just tell me what's going on,” he replied.

Grace shook her head. “I can't. Now, let's get upstairs. I want to be seated when the paps get here.”

Ethan escorted the ladies to the elevator and stuck his card in the slot on the elevator panel to gain access to the rooftop deck.

When the elevator doors parted, Grace two-stepped like she was auditioning for
Glee.
The scent of fresh flowers engulfed her. Small bouquets of burgundy Kung Fu tulips, dark orange roses, red carnations, and baby's breath lined the aisle between the many chairs that had been set up in front of a long table. The chairs were covered with beige drapes, and the photos were covered with scarlet sashes, creating this delightful autumn aura.

Grace and Carol took their seats at the center of the table. Moments later their support system arrived. Junell took a seat beside Carol, and Candace sat next to Junell. Ethan, Horace, and Pastor David flanked Grace's right arm. They had become her right-hand men.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Grace whispered, blowing kisses to each of them as the reporters filed in. Turning to her left, she signaled for Junell and Candace's attention. “When I say, ‘We want to share something with you,' I want you two to rip the sashes off the pictures.”

By 9:01 a.m., all the seats were filled with reporters from across the country. Some of them were still groggy from their red-eye flights. During Ethan's introductory speech, Grace waved and winked at a few reporters from the
LA Times
whom she hadn't seen in a while.

“We've assembled you all here today to share a special announcement with you,” Ethan stated with a slight smile on his face.

“Are you teaming up Grace with Carol Jasper to do a joint venture?” one reporter shouted from the middle row.

Grace pushed her chair back, stood up, adjusted the neck on her mixed-print, long-sleeve Balenciaga dress, and strutted to the podium. She blew kisses from her fuchsia-stained lips to the reporters before speaking. “Please hold all your questions until we are done. Who asked if Carol and I would be working together?”

An excited reporter jumped out of her seat, with her cell phone in her hand, and waved at Grace.

“Well, that was a good question. Actually, Carol and I worked on a similar campaign, and we called you all here today because we want to share something with you,” Grace announced.

On cue Junell and Candace sprang from their seats and ripped the sashes off each picture. Gasps, squeals, and camera flashes filled the air following the picture reveal.

“Now my friend Carol Jasper is going to explain these photos to you in greater detail,” Grace told the reporters.

Of course, there were some reporters who disregarded Grace's statement about questions, and at this moment question upon question was flung at them. Like a pro, Carol waited for the right one.

“Carol, why haven't you taken a job in ten months?” someone asked.

“I have not worked in ten months, because . . .” Carol paused and turned away from them.

Grace could already see the monster called memory sucking Carol's energy. She stood beside Carol and gripped her hand. “We're walking through the fire together.”

Carol closed her eyes and lifted her head up at the sky, opened her eyes, and began again. “I have not worked in ten months, because Javier Roberts raped me on the set of the Egyptian Silk ad two years ago and has been doing so every time that I work with him. He took these photos and said that if I ever told anyone what he was doing, he would publish these photos and say that it was consensual. After seeing Grace on Diane Khan's show, I realized that I needed to come forward as well and stop living with this nightmare. Every day and every night I am haunted by his voice and the memory of what he did to me. I know some of you are fans of his, so all you see here is art, but I have the audio to go with the stills.” Carol pressed PLAY on the voice memo of her phone and then held the phone up to the microphone before her. Her fright-filled screams and pleas for Javier to get off of her silenced the rooftop assembly.

“Turn it off,” a reporter yelled from the back row. “Please turn it off.”

Carol turned it off and switched places with Grace at the mic.