“Thank you,” I said, following her.
“No problem. Mrs. MacAdams says this is top priority. We’ve taken the liberty of getting you a makeup artist and a change of clothes since this is all very last minute,” she explained, pushing open the white door to reveal a rack of clothes and two women sitting on the couch drinking coffee.
I didn’t even have time say anything as she left, and one of the women led me to a chair in front of the mirror.
“Amelia, I think now is the time you clue me in on what you are about to say on national television, don’t you think?” Keri whispered, leaning up against the countertop.
Finally releasing the grip on the envelope in my hands, I handed it to her. She paused for a second just like I had. Before opening it, she peeked in first, her eyes widening as she pulled out the contents.
“Where? How?” she questioned.
“Do you know who Melody Callahan is?” The moment I said her name, you would have thought I had kissed Satan in church with the look of fear that spread over the faces of everyone but Ollie and myself. The stylist almost dropped the clothes in her hand before recovering and trying to pretend she heard nothing. Same with the makeup artist, who was busy blending something on the side of her hand.
“You’re friends with Melody Callahan?” Keri whispered.
“I’m not sure I would call us friends,” I said. I had only just met her ten minutes ago, after all. “Again, who is she?”
“Basically the queen of Chicago…she just gave this to you?” Keri asked.
She didn’t just give me anything. I’m pretty sure I sold my soul. But I couldn’t say that because it gave me goosebumps. Plus, the look on Ollie’s face bothered me.
“Yeah. Pretty much,” I lied.
“Ray Mallory must have gotten on her bad side,” she whispered to herself, staring down at the photos in front of her. “Fight a queen, and you lose your head.”
The way she spoke about her, this Melody Callahan, made me a little envious. I wondered what it was like to be so important that everyone in the city not only knew and revered you, but never wanted to cross you, either. I guess that was the difference between queens and celebrities: queens get shit done.
Today, I failed. I wanted to help Noah on my own, thinking I could just stomp around and everything would fall into place. It was naïve and prideful of me. I did learn a lesson I’d never forget.
The makeup and getting dressed passed by in a blur. I had one thing left to do, one last part to play, and I could only focus on that. Even as Keri tried her best to prep me on short notice, I couldn’t think of anything else right now.
“Ms. London, we are ready for you.” A man peeked into the dressing room.
Nodding, I sat up, brushing the black high-waisted skirt I wore and making sure every button, with the exception of the top one, was closed as I headed toward the door. Outside, the sound manager attached a microphone to the collar of my shirt. I was led down a dimly lit corridor that opened up to the large set, the back of which was nothing but a large screen currently displaying the Chicago skyline.
Quietly, they sat me in a chair just as the screen changed, and I watched, in horror and rage, as I appeared on the screen in Ray’s study, trying to fight him off me, his hand on my throat, forcing me to kiss him. I then watched Noah grab him, pulling him off me and punching him in the face.
“What you are looking at is newly obtained video of former child star Amelia London being assaulted by none other than Chicago socialite Ray Mallory. She is later rescued by fellow child star and current co-star in the upcoming movie Sinners Like Us, Noah Sloan. We are privileged to have Amelia London herself here in the studio with us for an exclusive interview.” Stephanie and the camera turned toward me. “Thank you for being here, Amelia. I can only imagine what the last few days have been like for you.”
“Thank you having me, Stephanie. To say I’m shaken would be an understatement,” I said, frowning as I folded my hands together on her table.
“Can you please walk me through what happened? I mean, we see it clear as day on tape. Describe it in your own words if you can.”
Being an actor was great at a time like this. All of those years of training on how to give an emotional performance that resonated with viewers came to the forefront of my mind.
Biting my lip, I glanced down, making them wait before I spoke. “I…sorry. Oh, god.”
“No. No. Please take your time,” she said, handing me a few tissues.
“As you know, Mr. Mallory was celebrating his birthday at his mansion. He was an old family friend of my mother’s, and everything was going fine. Noah and I planned on leaving. I just needed to go the bathroom. I entered the wrong room and…” I paused, taking a breath, “and everything went south so fast. I kept trying to push him away. Mentally I knew no one would be able to hear me over the music and conversation downstairs. The rougher he became, the more desperate I was to get away. I really thought there was no saving me when Noah pulled him off me.”
“Did you tell this to the police?”
I nodded, my hands brushing up to my neck. “I sat in a room, explaining it over and over again to some officer by the name of Osborne. My neck still had marks on it. He kept wondering why I was in Mr. Mallory’s study. I felt like he wasn’t listening or didn’t care.”
“And Mr. Sloan?” Stephanie pressed on.
“They locked him up and threw away the key. Not even a few hours later, I was listening to MKLM 97.5 on my way to an appointment, and they were tearing him apart, calling him everything from a screwed up child star to an idiot for ‘picking’ a fight with the Ray Mallory, who I quickly found out is pretty much a god here.”
“What do you mean by ‘god’?”
I shrugged. “I was told pretty quickly by natives to Chicago that I didn’t want to make an enemy of Mr. Mallory. He even called me.”
“He called you? When and what for?”
“Yesterday morning, to apologize. But he never said what for. He also made it clear that I wasn’t anything to him.”
“You are an Oscar-winning actress and grew up as probably one of the most beloved child stars in the country, and he said you were nothing?”
I gripped the cup of water they had given me. “I know. Growing up and being told you are something and having one person tear that down instantly was painful. What scared me more was the fact that even with all the influence and recourse I had, I was still treated like no one by the Chicago Police Department and Mr. Mallory himself, which made me wonder: what if this wasn’t happening to me? What if this was just some normal girl? What would become of her and her boyfriend if they were in that same situation?”
She paused and leaned in, “So you and Mr. Sloan are involved romantically?”
“Yes,” I said, looking directly into the camera, especially for my mother. “I love him unconditionally.”
Chapter Seven
Noah
“You just going to lay there all day?”
Shifting onto my side, I saw Henry standing at the door and grinning like he won the lottery. The same cop who had made it his mission to piss me off stood beside him with his head down. Smirking, I sat up, stepping back into my shoes and grabbing my jacket. Henry took a step to the side and paused in the doorway to fix the collar of my shirt.
“Officer Dacosta,” I said¸ reading his silver nametag. “Henry, you should remember that name.”
“Already have.”
The bastard glared, and his jaw tensed as I nodded to him and walked down the hall. There was a shift in the air. I could feel it bluntly. When they first arrested me, they sat me in the corner and pretended I didn’t exist, purposely talking loudly, calling me the “stupid motherfucker messin’ with Mallory.” Now, you would think I had a gun to their heads—not one of them stepped in our paths or even spoke.