Exposed: A Novel (15 page)

Chapter 36
Taylor

Two weeks passed since Andy received that call from Zayta. And that’s all he talked about. We’re gonna be stars this; we’re gonna be stars that. Nauseated me beyond belief.

We didn’t expect to meet Zayta until we got to Florida, but she called on July thirtieth and told us she’d be coming to visit. “I want to prepare both of you, make sure you know everything you need to know before you get here,” she said to Andy.

And when she knocked on Andy’s door two days later on a sweltering August afternoon, she didn’t just seem professional and confident, it emanated from her words, her gestures, her posture, her astounding beauty and intelligence. I never met a woman so perfect.

She wasn’t like the others girls I met. She was a woman. Clarity lived in her eyes and speech. She wasn’t rolling up dollar bills like me. She was clean, sophisticated, and beautiful. How she managed all that and did porn, I had no idea.

We talked in the living room for a while. Andy’s eyes never left Zayta. Mine never left the floor, except to watch him drool over her. She explained terms I never heard of and taught me how to contort my body into the most awkward and painful positions. “It’ll get easier,” she said.

She taught Andy how to use a light meter and a more professional camera. Yeah, she brought supplies. It was like porn orientation. I thought of Walgreens, wishing I’d turned around that day—May twenty-fourth—and applied there instead.

After Zayta’s four-hour explanation of the serious side of porn, she sat next to me on Andy’s couch and said, “You need to remember, this is a business. You get what you want out of it, and leave the rest.”

I looked down. That sounded fun and all, but what about Andy? He didn’t let me manage myself and make my own decisions, much less take what I want and leave the rest.

Zayta picked up my purse from the couch and scooped my things out. I reached out to stop her, but put my hand in my lap instead.

She pulled out Cola. “This,” she said, “has got to go.”

“Oh, I’m not addicted or anything.”

She put Cola in her bag. “Sweetie, when people are addicted they don’t know they are. And even if you aren’t, we need to be careful.” She picked up my marijuana. “You have no reason for this either. I’m not going to take it, but you need to stop doing this stuff if you want to take your job seriously. There are some girls who manage to stay with big agencies while snorting crack, but not a lot. Better to be safe than sorry.”

I listened to Zayta, trying to retain everything she told me, like how to talk to fans, how to talk with directors and producers and costars. She knew a lot, and I trusted her. Andy always told me he’d make me a star, but I found out he only wanted to use me for his own success. Zayta, on the other hand, truly cared about my own success. At least I thought so.

Andy left the room for a bathroom break.

I looked at Zayta. “So, you really like making porn?”

“Oh, honey,” she said, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “I don’t just like making porn, I love it. And there’s a lot more to it than that. You must learn how to play the game, but when you do, you’ll make it.” She leaned toward me. “Is Andy a suitcase pimp?”

I pushed my neck forward and crumpled my face. “A what?”

She laughed. “Is he using you or hurting you, baby doll?”

I knew what she asked, but I pretended not to understand. If Andy ever found out I snitched, I’d be lost. No one would want me after this. I’d be alone. Again.

Zayta steered the conversation, so eloquently, in another direction when Andy strolled back in the room. His eyes were a little pink and glazed over.

“I’m serious you two,” Zayta said. “Give up the drugs if you want to make it in this business.”

“But,” I said without realizing it, “how can someone possibly get through a scene without being high? How can someone get through the blood and bruises and pain without something to help them forget what they’re doing?”

Zayta smiled. Her ocean-blue eyes smiled too. “Well, first,” she said. “You must learn to love this business. And I’ll show you how.”

This girl was only four years older than me and rich. Diamonds in her ears, on her neck, wrists, fingers. She didn’t look run down like Gianna and the other girls I knew. She beamed with class and brains and she dressed the part. Tailored business suit, pretty black heels, perfect hair despite the humidity, subtle makeup—she stood out in the porn world, and I yearned to be like her.

According to her I could be, if I followed her advice and soaked in “the beauty of porn.” I hoped she wouldn’t prove me wrong and that Florida would be different, that I’d feel better about my life and “take control” as she said.

Zayta left for the night to stay at the Marriott in Baltimore, while Andy pampered me all night. He washed my feet, painted my toenails, brushed my hair, and even let me go shopping without him.

Guess he knew I feared him so much that I’d return without spilling the truth about him. And I did come back, ten minutes before my curfew, without talking to a single person. Except the guy—sorry, my fan—who recognized me from my Web site. I told him he had the wrong girl and walked away, fast.

Anyway, I’m not sure why Andy decided to pamper me, but it wasn’t a bad start to my new future.

Chapter 37
Ally

An intense migraine irritated me for days and days. I didn’t eat right, sleep right, or do much of anything right since Jessie asked me about Sean. He never mentioned it after that, which made me think about it every day. Even if I did cheat, he shouldn’t have cared. He cheated first!

Okay, I said to myself. Calm down.

I stopped at a red light on my way to visit Dad, rubbed my temples, and turned some classical music on the radio.

My cell phone rang.

“Ally, are you still coming over tonight?” Verity said.

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

“Most certainly not. My fine, fine lady, how’s everything going today?”

“Eh, it’s going.”

“You’ve always been such a chipper one, you and that melancholic personality of yours. That’s okay,” she laughed, “leave it to me to bring color to life.”

“Man, you are so encouraging.”

“Sure am. Well, I’ll make sure dinner is ready by six then. Where are you now?”

“Left work early to meet with someone. I’ll be there soon.”

I hung up, giving her no time to ask who I left work to meet with. I know what her little mind thought. Same thing Jessie thought. And I didn’t care. Soon I’d be ready to explain Dad and they’d understand that I may have almost kissed Sean, but I wasn’t having an affair. And honestly, I didn’t think I could even if I wanted to. I still loved my Jessie.

Dad greeted me with a hug, much warmer than our first meeting, and ushered me into his tiny rancher. I followed him to the living room. The walls were white and bare, not a thing hung on them. The couch stood out like a homeless person at the Grammys. Holes, stains, pieces of cushion playing peek-a-boo—you name it, the couch had it.

I sat on the mismatched love seat instead.

“I’ll get some lemonade for you,” Dad said, disappearing around the corner.

He came back, smiling, and handed me a glass of homemade lemonade with bits of lemon in it. I tasted it, and wow. Pretty good.

“How have you been the last few weeks?” He sat the arm of the couch.

“Okay, how about you?”

He nodded. “I’m getting by.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I almost called him Dad, but still didn’t feel right about that. I didn’t feel right about calling him by his name either. So I skipped that part altogether.

His upturned lips and gentle eyes urged me to go on.

“How can you stay faithful to someone who hasn’t wanted to be with you for years and still wants nothing to do with you?”

He ran his fingers along the rim of his glass.

“I mean, doesn’t it hurt? Wouldn’t you rather move on and be happy?”

He tilted his head and looked at the ground. “Well, Ally, I guess the problem is that I’d only be happy with your mother.”

“But how? How could you be happy with someone who’s ruined your life?”

“I don’t think of it that way.”

“Then how do you think of it?”

“I think of it as her ruining her own life.”

Interesting. And confusing. Too many enigmas in my head. “How do you make this seem so easy?”

“It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.”

I covered my mouth with my hand and leaned forward.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“Nothing. I’m okay.”

“Your secrets are safe with me, Ally.”

“Oh, I know. I’m okay though. Really.” I took another sip of lemonade. “So, what have you been doing all these years?”

“Nothing very exciting.” He laughed. “I stayed close in case your mom ever changed her mind, but I’ve given her the space she asked for. I’ve run my own business hanging wallpaper and painting.”

I looked at his bare walls.

He smiled. “I’m easy pleasy. No need to waste money on my own house, no one looks at it except me anyway. And now you.” He tapped his glass. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, it’s weird. Isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Weird in a good way. I don’t know how I ever believed you weren’t my baby, you’ve always had my eyes and hair, well, until now.”

“Oh.” I pulled a piece of my hair in front of my face. “This.”

“I like it natural. You’re too beautiful for all that unnatural stuff.”

“Yeah, tell that to my husband.”

Dad knew. I could tell he knew.

“I’ll make sure to tell him when I meet him,” he said. “What’s he like?”

I didn’t know how to answer his question. But for the sake of conversation I talked about old Jessie like he never turned into new Jessie. By the end of my description, when I said he was the most charming man I knew, I wanted to run out of Dad’s house in tears.

“Sounds like a good man,” Dad said after he finished his lemonade.

I didn’t argue. Didn’t want to tell the truth. And Dad left it alone, filling the conversation with small talk, but I only half-listened. All I could think about was Jessie. Every thought of him came with a picture of a nude woman, and every picture of a nude woman came with an undeniable urge to throw up my lemonade.

I tilted my chair back in Verity’s hot, non-air-conditioned kitchen.

Her hair glistened in the sunlight from her kitchen windows. “You’re not seeing Sean, are you?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t give me that,” she said. “Are you?”

“I don’t want to say who I was with, Ver, but it wasn’t Sean. Leave. It. Alone.” There aren’t enough fingers and toes to count how many times I’ve said that to her and how many times she refused to listen.

“Wait. You’re telling me you have changed your wardrobe, dyed your hair, and started an affair with someone I’ve never heard of, all for no reason?”

“I never said I did any of those things.”

“God gave me two eyeballs and a brain. The brain might be small but I know how to use it, pal. I’m not stupid.”

I rubbed my head. My stomach sloshed lemonade up to my chest again. Anxiety. Too much anxiety.

Verity stooped beside me. “You okay?”

I sat completely still and didn’t say a word. But Verity said many. And I tuned most of them out. After a few seconds that felt like minutes my stomach calmed, but my headache didn’t lessen.

“Do you have anything I can take for my headache?”

“Man, you’re a mess.” She walked away. “I’ll get ya something.”

I stared at her crazy walls and furniture, but that made my nausea come back. So I closed my eyes and sunk into my chair.

“Here.” Verity stuck out her hands, one holding a water bottle, the other two pills. “Take these.”

I took the pills from her hand, put them on my tongue, and washed them down with water.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Headache. It’s killing me. Making me feel like I need to throw up.”

“You pregnant?”

I managed to laugh. “Don’t think so. Jessie and I haven’t touched each other in months, save one time recently and I wasn’t ovulating at the time.”

“Maybe you have brain cancer.”

“That’s not funny.”

“When did you get so serious?”

“Maybe when my life started to crumble to the ground.”

“Okay. Maybe we should watch a movie, get your mind off everything.”

I agreed and let her pick the movie. My head hurt too much to care. And what movie did she choose? The very movie Jessie and I named our top romantic movie of all time. And every second of it reminded me of him.

My headache eased halfway through the movie, but the nausea didn’t subside until I ate. Verity assured me that I’d get a positive line on a pregnancy test and I wanted to prove her wrong. So we drove to Rite-Aid, bought one, and went back to her house.

“So, what do I get if I’m right?” she said, rubbing her hands together.

“You pick.” I knew she wouldn’t be right anyway. Jessie and I tried for years to have children. We tried every infertility treatment you can imagine. Nothing. And I knew my ovulation times better than I knew my husband, so no worries there either.

“If I win, you need to watch porn with Jessie and see if you enjoy it.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What is wrong with you?”

“Just saying. Don’t be so touchy.”

“Do you even realize how much pain this has caused me?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She nudged me into the bathroom and walked away. “Take the test already, would ya?”