Incidental Happenstance (50 page)

            “Angela, what the fuck is going on? Do you know that I’ve been fired?”

            “Oh, I know all about it,” she said menacingly. “I’m Dylan’s assistant now.” Then she burst, “How could you do it, Jessa? How could you hurt him like that? He’s always been so good to you!” She didn’t know if she still had an audience, but she was determined to play her role perfectly from start to finish. Her new career depended on it.

            “Do what!?” she yelled back, the sound of disbelief desperate in her voice. “No one’ll even tell me what I supposedly did!”

            “As if you don’t know,” Angela spat. “Now get out of my sight. I can’t believe I thought we could be friends!” She slammed the door in her face and clicked the latch, then watched from the window as Jessa climbed dejectedly behind the wheel and slowly drove away. She clapped her hands together once, up and down sharply, like a clapperboard and said to herself, “Scene one, take one, cut: that’s a wrap!”

            Tia was surprised when she tried calling Dylan and kept getting a busy signal. Then, when she finally got through, the little electronic voice told her that Dylan’s voicemail box was full, and that she should try her call again later. Maybe he had to go to the boondocks early, she figured, and she was saddened knowing that it would be at least a week before she could talk to him again. She sat down at her computer and sent him an email instead, knowing he’d see it when he returned from filming out in the wilderness.

            Penelope sat down with Angela and praised her performance. “I’ve had a lot of assistants during my career,” she said, “and all of them thought they could act; all of them thought they’d get famous through me. But you my dear,” she said fondly, patting Angela on the back, “you just might have it. Keep this up, and I just might be able to get you that supporting role!”

            Angela basked in her praise, especially thrilled to hear the words ‘supporting role.’ Her dreams could finally be coming true, and Penelope had the power to make it happen. In the back of her mind and in the pit of her stomach, however, she was bothered by the look she’d seen on Jessa’s face. She hadn’t known her long, but Jessa had been genuinely nice to her and had really tried to be her friend. “Thanks, Penelope. I really appreciate that a lot. But I do feel a little sorry for Jessa though.”

            “Oh no, don’t you think that way!” Penelope interrupted. “You think it’s easy to make it big in this business? You think there aren’t people around every corner who want to knock you off your throne and take it all away from you? It’s a cutthroat business, and you have to be willing to cut a few throats of your own along the way because there’s always going to be someone looking to cut yours. You’ve got to look out for number one, and in order to get to the top, you have to have something to climb on.”

            “I know that,” Angela said, “but…”

             “Listen,” she said, “you don’t get anywhere in this business by being nice. Being nice is what gets you stepped on. That’s a lesson you need to learn early on.”

            “But Dylan’s nice.”

            She waved her hands in the air in exasperation. “Yeah, he is. But he’s obviously an exception to the rule. He’s blessed with natural good looks and a likable personality, and he doesn’t have to work at it the way most of us do. Besides, it’s different with music than it is with film. No one’s competing against him to be the singer for his next tour like they’ll compete against you for a starring role. Acting is an extra for him, not his first career. He doesn’t have to be in movies to make his living, so he doesn’t have the same pressure.”

            “Yeah, I guess you’re right, but I…”

            Penelope held up a finger to silence her and looked her straight in the eye. “Don’t go getting all holy on me now Miss Angela—you knew what you were in for from the start of all this, and if you can’t see it through to the end, then I’ll find someone who will.” There was no doubt about the message she was sending, and Angela got it loud and clear. “Jessa is od. She’ll find another job—I could even make some calls on her behalf, if that’ll make you feel better.” She had no intention of doing so, of course, but the look in Angela’s eyes changed just slightly, and it was enough.            

            “Look,” she continued, “The hard part’s over. Aside from Jessa, everyone wins in this situation. Dylan is much better off with me than with that schoolteacher person, and she’s better off without him. We’ve gone over all this before—their relationship just won’t work, and it’s only a matter of time before she gets tired of waiting for him to come home or he screws up and bangs some groupie or supermodel and hurts her anyway. I can give him everything he needs, and the more I get to know him, the more I truly adore him and want to be with him for all the right reasons! I know it didn’t start out that way,” she looked into Angela’s eyes, “but I’m in love with him, Angie, I truly am. I understand him and the world he lives in, so in the long run, this is what’s best for everyone—I’m just giving it a bit of a jump start, is all.”  She put the carrot out there again—she held the power to make the girl’s dreams come true. “Think about the prize, Angela,” she said soothingly. “Think about what it’s going to mean for you to be handed a role—that’s way more than most people get.” The girl’s eyes brightened considerably. “Now I need to know that you’re still with me on this, all the way.”

            Something inside Angela stopped. Penelope’s voice was soft, but her face told an entirely different story; one in which only Penelope had a happy ending. Her eyes shifted between menace and what Angela could only describe as wistfulness, and she saw the danger in both. Angela clearly saw who Penelope was now. She was mean, dangerous, and more than a little off-balance. This thing with Dylan had become an obsession, she realized, and there would be no turning back. Angela had serious doubts that Dylan would want a romantic relationship with Penelope with or without Jessa and Tia in the picture. She’d heard Dylan talking to his girlfriend in hushed tones, heard him working on songs that were obviously about her, had seen how many pictures of the two of them he had scattered around his place, and she’d plainly seen how many letters he wrote her—fat ones with many pages and lots of pictures. He was in love with that girl. Angela had never officially met her, but had seen her in Chicago and London, and had seen the way she and Dylan looked at each other. On stage at Wembley there was an electricity between them that she could almost feel, even from the fourth row.

            A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she fully realized the magnitude of her situation. The truth was, she didn’t really have a choice—her entire future depended on helping Penelope with her sick and selfish plan. She could never again show any hesitation or guilt, because she knew that if she did, it would be her throat that Penelope would be cutting. Forcing back the lump in her throat, she flashed Penelope an award-winning smile. “You’re right!” she said brightly. “You and Dylan make a great couple, you really do. I’m with you—all the way.”

            “That’s the spirit!” Penelope confirmed, patting her on the back like a child. “Now we have to lay out the time frames for the next phase of our plan, because there’s a lot to do in a short amount of time, so listen carefully…”

            While Angela listened, the actress absent-mindedly pulled a shoe box from a shelf in her bedroom and slipped out three photos.  She watched with amazement as Penelope cut Tia’s face from them and replaced the empty spaces with her own images before carefully putting them into a photo album. Penelope then pulled out one of the letters that Angela had never posted, took some liquid paper from a drawer, erased Tia’s name, and penned in her own. She’d often wondered why Penelope had insisted that she be given all of Tia’s letters, and now she saw the truth. Her stomach rolled over on itself sickly as she watched Penelope casually press the letter onto another page of the album which was already nearly bursting from the binder. A shiver ran down her spine, and she had to work hard to keep a look of horror from showing on her face. She wanted out of here, but she couldn’t leave without her prize. There was no choice but to finish this off, get her career on track and then get the hell away from Penelope and not look back.

            Once she left Penelope’s twisted fantasy world and returned to her own trailer, she lay restless in her bed, pondering whether she could go to Dylan and tell him the truth. Maybe he’d help her. She entertained that hope for almost a minute before realizing that it would never happen. Dylan valued trust very highly, and admitting her role in framing Jessa would also mean that she’d have to tell him that she hadn’t posted any of his letters in well over a week, and that all along she’d helped Penelope to steal pictures that were meant for Tia. She also had two of Tia’s letters to him that she’d never delivered hiding in a shoe box in her own trailer. He wouldn’t be able to forgive her, and she really couldn’t blame him. No, she didn’t have any other choice—she was already in too deep.

            It was going to be a rough few days, that was certain, if they were going to get everything into place before Dylan returned. She had to suck it up, cut her losses, and think about herself for right now—her entire future depended on how well she played her current role.

            By the next morning, she was determined to get it over with as quickly as possible. Luckily, Dylan had left his trailer unlocked when he took off to film the wilderness scenes, and she collected his laptop before driving into the city and taking it into the computer repair shop.

            The disinterested young kid behind the counter never took his eyes off the video game he was playing when she walked in. “Can I help you?” he asked absently when he heard the little jingle of the bell above the door. His dark hair hung over his eyes, greasy and unkempt, and he didn’t look more than eighteen or nineteen years old. Aside from him, the shop was completely empty.

            “I need a hacker,” Angela announced. “A discreet one who wants to earn a lot of money for a little bit of work.”

            That got his full attention; the kid lay his controller down on the counter, forgetting the battle raging on the screen in front of him. He stood up and extended his hand. “I can help you with that,” he said confidently. “My name’s Steve. I’m the best, and I’m very discreet.”

            “Glad to hear it, Steve,” Angela smiled, shaking his hand and placing the laptop on the counter.

            She watched as his fingers flew over the keys, his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he stared at the screen with total concentration. It was a small matter to figure out the passwords needed, and a few mouse clicks on a particular email address was all it took to sever the communication superhighway. A new email address that would gotraight to Penelope assured that she assumed control over said communication, and a tiny virus planted in an unassuming email held another little surprise. Less than an hour later, Angela walked out with everything she needed, and Steve became her new best friend. They would do more together, she assured him, much to his delight as he slipped a large bill into his pants pocket.

            Her next stop was the cell phone shop, where they’d change Dylan’s number. “I need the sim card transferred so the stored numbers will be in the new phone,” she told the clerk.

            “That’s not a problem,” he replied. “But can you pick it up tomorrow? I got a message from the States that you’d be coming by, but I have a few things I need to work out with their tech department before I can finish the job. It’s the middle of the night there, so I’ll have to get in touch with them later. You can come by say…any time after ten, and I’ll have everything set for you.”

            “That’s fine,” she replied, leaving the store and heading back to The Village.

            Penelope positively dreaded the thought of camping in the middle of nowhere; the idea of sleeping on a cot in a tent full of bugs and spiders sent shivers up her spine. But she needed an alibi so that she couldn’t be connected in any way to the events about to unfold if for any reason things didn’t go as planned. She knew that Dylan was the adventurous type and that he enjoyed the outdoors, so she figured it was just another thing she’d have to learn to like. She certainly wouldn’t get a better chance than this one to show him her newly invented adventurous spirit, so she had no choice but to take advantage of it. It was only a few days, after all. She could handle just about anything for that much time. Plus, Angela was going to sneak in and take a few shots—she had some ideas that she thought they could send to the tabloids back home to get the rumors flying in Hollywood. Dylan wouldn’t know about them—he absolutely refused to even acknowledge the magazines—and even if he did find out, he couldn’t accuse her of taking the pictures when she was in every single one of them. She packed a bag, put on her best face and climbed into the van that would take them out to the middle of nowhere. Dylan raised an eyebrow at her when she tossed her designer suitcase onto the seat behind her.

            “What are you doing here?” he asked. “You’re not in any of these scenes.”

            She smiled at him, hoping that the look on her face showed excitement rather than the apprehension she was feeling. “I know, but I just love camping!” she exclaimed. “I used to do it all the time when I was a kid, and I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see the wilder side of New Zealand—who knows when I might make it back this way again?”