here.
“Get out of my way!” Shoving past the reporter, who just laughed, Georgia pulled out her phone and started texting her agent as she ran for the parking lot. The crowd followed, shouting questions and taking photos as Georgia shut herself in her car and quickly locked the doors.
For a moment she sat there, her breath rasping in and out as she took in the fact that even her car was completely surrounded. What was she going to do? She’d never been in this kind of situation before.
It was surreal to think that just ten minutes ago she’d nonchalantly strolled into a grocery store to pick up some lunch. She did this at least three times a week, and she was rarely bothered.
But this—even back when she’d been at the height of her fame, the circus surrounding her hadn’t been like this. This—these people were vultures, out to catch their own fifteen minutes by stomping all over hers.
For one teetering moment she felt her throat burn and her eyes gloss over. She was completely overwhelmed.
“Show us your tits!” Someone banged on Georgia’s car window, and instantly the tears morphed into rage. Slowly she turned her head and locked eyes with the speaker, a teenage boy of about fifteen.
What she felt was channeled out through her eyes, and within moments the kid visibly wilted and faded back into the crowd. Slamming the car into drive, Georgia began to inch forward, slowly enough that if she bumped anyone they wouldn’t get hurt, but steadily enough to show that she was leaving now .
At the exit to the parking lot she saw the red and blue flashing lights of two of LA’s finest, bringing out barricades and holding back the crowd. One gestured her through, and she stepped on the gas gratefully, speeding down the street, not relaxing until she’d exited onto the relative anonymity of the highway.
The only thing she’d wanted since leaving rehab was to put the past behind her. But how was she supposed to do that when her most intimate moments were dragged up and put in front of the entire world to see.
Chapter Two
“Yes, I’ve seen the video. And hell yes, I’d do Georgia Evans.”
-Cara DeLeon, model/ actress
“Who released that tape?” Georgia slid into the chair opposite her agent’s desk and crossed her arms. She’d come straight here from Whole Foods, and she was still shaking. “Who the fuck released that tape?”
Taking off her thick-rimmed glasses, Sharon leaned back in her chair. Though the woman hadn’t gone so far as to dump Georgia when her career had derailed, it had been a very long time since they’d met face to face. The last time Georgia had seen her, Sharon's dark, curly hair wasn't yet graying at the temples, and she hadn’t yet had fine lines framing her eyes and lips.
“We’ll get that to that in a minute.” Sharon tossed her glasses on her desk. “How are you holding up?”
“I'm fine.” Georgia looked down at her hands, her fingers still trembling, though she wasn’t entirely sure if it was with rage or nerves or both.
“Are you sure?” Sharon’s voice was no-nonsense, as usual, but even though she hadn’t seen the woman in years, Georgia could still hear the thread of concern.
“Well, I just got accosted by some perverts over the arugula at Whole Foods.” Georgia shrugged, then looked up and met Sharon’s eyes. “But am I right in assuming that it’s going to give me some notoriety that will get me work?”
Sharon winced, just a bit, but Georgia caught it.
“Come on, Sharon, let’s not be delicate.” Georgia had jumped off that train long before she’d hit rehab. “This sucks. And when I find out who released that tape, it’s not going to be pretty. But if I’m going to go through this shitstorm in the media, at least let’s try to get me some momentum out of it.”
She had to get some movement, because the savings from her teen years had almost dried up. She’d started acting when she was a kid—it was the only