In my flowy black maxi with flutter sleeves, my cheap sandals and straw clutch, I feel frumpy as hell. Any progress I thought I made earlier with my makeup and hair has suddenly evaporated next to this Giselle Bündchen clone.
They’ve got to be screwing. In fact, as I see them both together, they look like a match-made in heaven, the Canadian version of Brangelina, pre-crazy break-up.
“Autumn, this is Alyssa,” Emmett says to her.
“So nice to meet you!” she exclaims and damn it, she has that throaty sex voice too.
“Likewise,” I lie. Okay, I’m already being unfair about this woman and I just met her. I have to remind myself to give her a chance.
The hostess takes us over to a table, situated in a low-lit corner by the windows overlooking the water. The place isn’t overly swanky but from the fact that I recognize a hockey player and a news anchor, I know it’s got to be expensive.
Both Autumn and Emmett sit across from me at the table and suddenly I feel like I’m being inspected like a prize cow.
While Emmett takes care of the ordering, getting a bottle of wine for the table and some kind of tataki appetizers, Autumn studies me with bright eyes. I can just tell this whole idea is some form of entertainment for her, that Emmett and I are puppets on a string.
“So, Alyssa,” she says, folding her hands in front of her. Long slender fingers adorned with sparkling rings. “I’m sure you have many questions for us about the whole deal and we’re here to answer them all to help you make the best decision possible.”
I glance at Emmett while she’s saying this. He’s watching me, rather warily I might add, and I realize he has no real idea what I might say or do.
“Okay. I’ve only heard it from Emmett so let’s hear it from you,” I tell her. I was prepared for her to give me a speech but instead I just barrel on and throw questions at her. “How the hell do you think him dating me is going help his career? Do you really think people care that much about who he dates, enough that it influences the work that he does? He’s a grown man…well, a grown man-child,” Emmett frowns, “and I would think his own personal life should have no bearing on his professional one. I guess I just don’t get any of this. How is it so important that you’d be willing to spend money on someone like me?”
Autumn laughs and I detect a hint of nervousness in her voice. Good. She should be prepared to answer this shit. “Wow, you are thorough. But that’s good. It’s great. And I totally hear you on this, which is why we’re all here right now. This doesn’t have to be so complicated. But let me just tell you, I’ve been working in this business for ten years. My father was a PR man and he took me under his wing. He was in charge of Bryan Adams, among others.”
I roll my eyes.
“You don’t like Bryan Adams?” Autumn asks in a hush, as if saying it out loud will result in us getting kicked out of the restaurant.
“Have you heard the lyrics to Run to You?” I ask her.
Emmett laughs out loud. I wish he didn’t have such a nice laugh, it makes my heart positively buoyant.
I push the feeling away. There’s no place for feelings here.
“Fair enough,” she says. “I guess in some ways he’s like Emmett here. The country thinks he’s a good boy when he’s got that bad boy side to him.”
“Are you seriously comparing this guy,” I point at Emmett, “to Bryan Adams?”
“Hey,” Emmett says, his blue eyes flashing. “I can sing, I’ll have you know. You can’t survive in London theatre without being able to.”
I can tell my comment bothered him and I’m just petty enough that it makes me happy. The man’s ego can definitely use a few rounds in the ring, that’s for sure, and there’s something rather appealing about pissing him off. Like, if I actually do become his fake girlfriend, I foresee three months of getting under his skin. That alone might be worth it.
“Anyway,” Autumn says, glancing between the two of us like she’s just realizing what she’s dealing with, “my point is that I’ve got experience and I know the ins and outs of the industry as well as how it plays into public image. And I know this might surprise you, but the way an actor is perceived in public definitely has an impact on how his career goes.”
“I don’t know, Sean Penn has a terrible attitude and he’s done just fine.”
“But Sean Penn is established. He’s won awards. He has a lifetime of work behind him and more in the future. And when he was going through his worst, he was with Madonna…she was an easy scapegoat for the blame. Simply put, Sean Penn is well-respected, no matter his past behaviour.”
“And I’m not?” Emmett questions gruffly, twisting in his seat to give her a steady look.
Just then the waiter appears with the wine, distracting us all. I’m watching Emmett closely though. Again, I’m seeing his sore spots. He brings up the London theatre because he feels it gives him credibility even if not fame. But the fame he gets is from playing a dweeb on one of Canada’s cheesiest shows (and that says a lot) and a superhero villain. Not exactly respectable material. It’s like there are two sides of him, one that wants the respect, the other that wants the fame. And so far he’s been unable to have both at the same time.
I think I’m starting to understand this man a little bit more. Even though I probably shouldn’t.
When the wine has been tasted and poured, Autumn raises her glass to me. “Let’s make this toast to Alyssa. Thank you for being gracious enough to hear us out.”
I shrug and clink my glasses against theirs, noticing that Emmett avoided my eyes. I think both of them are now realizing that what they’re proposing isn’t exactly as enticing as they first thought.
Autumn takes a sip and clears her throat delicately. “So, what I’m saying, is that Emmett’s career is rocky at the moment.”
“Rocky?” he asks, his forehead lined with worry.
“Not rocky,” she says smoothly as she flashes him a placating smile, “fragile. I mean, instable. Like, resting on the edge of a precipitous cliff.”
“Oh yeah, that’s way better.”
“Well it’s the truth,” she says and now anger is creeping into her voice. “And if you would just play the game right, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
He rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “Oh that’s right, be a good sweet boy, suck it up. Don’t be a fucking human being, lest the world turn on you.”
“But it’s true. This is your comeback, you don’t get a chance to mess it up.”
I can’t help but make a snorting sound. Both of them look to me sharply.
“What?” Emmett asks tiredly.
I swirl the wine around the glass, wondering how he’s going to take this. “I don’t know. This doesn’t seem like much of a comeback, does it?”
Emmett is shooting me daggers. He’s practically smoldering in his seat.
“Look, he had faded into obscurity,” she says. “Doing theatre in London is great and all but no one really gives a shit. It’s a has-been move.”
“It’s not a has-been move,” I tell her. “It’s not even a move at all. It’s something to do because you love to act. You love the art and the craft of it. It’s a place where you really learn the extent of your talents, where you’re able to do something you love for a living. Maybe it doesn’t make you rich, maybe people don’t remember who you are but you’re making art every single day.”
Emmett frowns, totally puzzled as to why I’m standing up for him. The thing is, I’m not standing up for him at all. It’s just she touched on something dear to me. Not that I would admit it.
“Fine,” Autumn says. Then she composes herself and flashes me those pearly whites again. “But you can’t say this isn’t a comeback. He was big when he was on Degrassi, or at least known. He went away to London. Now he’s back, better than ever. He’s sexy now. Age has only been his friend.”
“Sexy or not,” I say, knowing his ego is probably soaking up that one, “a real comeback is one when you’re proud of the work you’re doing. Emmett isn’t proud. He’s just working. He’s working on his comeback. That will still happen.”