Roger squeezed her shoulder. “No way, the night is still young! Another round!” He gestured to one of the roving waitresses before turning back. “So, what do you think?”
“About what?” Hallie tried to focus.
“Telling your story,” Roger prompted.
Hallie was still blank. “I don’t understand. Tell my story to who?”
There was a pause. Roger and Kay exchanged a look. “That’s the great thing. See, I actually know some editors. . . .” Kay pulled a business card from her leopard-print purse. Hallie took it, squinting at the blurry print.
“You’re a . . . journalist?” She froze.
“Writer,” Kay corrected quickly. “Celebrity biographies, mainly, but I do some freelance work. It would be totally tasteful,” she reassured Hallie. “Your story, some photos —”
“Professional hair and makeup, naturally,” Roger interrupted.
“They’d make you look fabulous. Not that it’s hard — look at you!” They laughed again, a high-pitched chorus, but this time, their voices sounded weird to Hallie: discordant.
Yup, definitely time to go.
Hallie tried to hand the card back. “No, thanks.” She managed a smile. “It’s not my thing.”
“But we’d pay.” Kay leaned in so close Hallie could see the places her lipstick had faded, leaving only the harsh red line around the edge of her mouth. “It could be a lot, depending on what you can give us.”
“Give you . . . ?” Hallie echoed, penned in. Already, she wished she’d left back when Ana Lucia had; that she’d never even come out tonight at all. How much had she been drinking? She wondered through a haze. And why was Kay looking at her with a hungry edge to her smile: all teeth, like she was about to take a bite out of her?
“Details. About Dakota,” Kay pressed. “What kind of stuff is he into? Did you ever see him take drugs? Do you think he’d offer Talia drugs?”
“No, no, he’s not like that.” Hallie shook her head. Mistake. The room began to spin gently.
“Are you sure?” Roger asked.
“She’s only just out of rehab,” Kay added. “Did she look high when you saw her? Maybe with some white powder . . . ?” She wiped her nose meaningfully. “That’s the kind of detail that would really raise your price.”
Her price? The harsh word finally cut through Hallie’s fog. That’s what this was about? They thought she was as bad as Dakota: willing to sell out their relationship for the sake of some publicity, and an easy paycheck!
“If not drugs, then maybe sex?” Kay was still pressing, hand on Hallie’s arm. “Did he like anything . . . different? Kinky. Threesomes —”
“Stop!” Hallie leaped up. The world lurched alarmingly, and she had to grab on to a nearby chair for support. “I don’t care how much you’re paying. I’m not doing any story!” She paused. That wasn’t right. “It’s not a story,” she corrected, glaring at them. “It’s my life!”
Hallie hurried away — or rather, stumbled. What kind of people were they: exploiting her pain for profit, preying on her in her moment of weakness? But she hadn’t even reached the elevators before Kay and Roger caught up with her, pulling Hallie into a dim hallway away from the main floor.
“I don’t think you understand.” Their smiles had dropped: now Kay narrowed her eyes, calculating. “It’s too late to walk away now.”
“What do you mean?” Hallie backed up, but found herself against a damask-covered wall.
“You already told us everything. We don’t need your permission, we can run with what we’ve got.” Kay held up her cell phone — the same phone that had been sitting innocuously on the table all evening. She pressed a couple of buttons, and Hallie heard her own voice play back.
“You could see it in her eyes, she loved watching me suffer.”
Hallie gasped. “I didn’t . . . But . . . You set me up!” she cried.
“How?” Kay smirked. “You were the one pouring your heart out.”
“But . . . you . . .” Hallie was lost for words. A moment ago, they’d been dripping honey, so sweet and supportive, but now she could practically see the dollar signs glowing in their eyes.
“It’ll be OK,” Roger reassured her. “Just do the interview, on the record, like a good girl. Otherwise . . .” He paused. “Well, maybe the story will turn out to be about them, and how they’re being stalked by Dakota’s psycho ex-girlfriend.”
Hallie felt tears well up. “You wouldn’t!”
“Stalkers sell copies.” Kay shrugged. “Maybe we’d even put them on the cover. America loves a victim.”
Hallie looked back and forth between them, her heart sinking. She was trapped, and it was her own stupid fault. Why had she trusted them? All the margaritas in the world couldn’t excuse this mess. And what had she told them? Hallie couldn’t even remember what she’d said ten minutes ago, let alone before that last round of shots. . . .
“It’s up to you.” Kay shrugged. “Cooperate, or see what it feels like to be the biggest joke in town. Your choice.”
But it wasn’t her choice, it never was! This whole year had been one long list of everyone else making important decisions, while she was left desperately trying to handle the fallout. Dakota chose to leave, her mom chose to move them to L.A., her father chose to drop dead on her . . . Hallie didn’t get a say in any of it!
Well, no more!
Hallie drew herself up to her full height — four-inch heels and all — and stared down her nose at Kay. All her bitterness, and loneliness, and anger over the past year channeled into a beam of pure fury shot straight at them.
“No.”
“Fine, then.” Kay shrugged. “Psycho stalker it is.”
Hallie looked around for her out, gaze landing on a table of empty glasses. There. “Was that a threat?” she asked, her voice like ice. “Because you’ve already been feeding me drinks all night — delinquency of a minor, isn’t it? Coercion, maybe. And now blackmail? My uncle’s lawyers will have fun with that one.”
Kay and Roger didn’t look so confident anymore.
“We still have your story.” Kay brandished the phone. “You can’t get out of that one.”
“You think?” With one swift movement, Hallie snatched Kay’s phone from her grip and dropped it on the floor; slamming her fabulous heel into the screen and grinding down until the whole gadget shattered. “Whoops!”