Page 51 of Toni and Addie Go Viral
Addie
Everything felt more natural the next day when actual filming started again.
Interviews and fittings and reading script changes hadn’t taken up nearly enough time to push away her disappointment that Toni wouldn’t be there that weekend.
She loved her job, but right now she’d rather be in DC with Toni. She’d rather be anywhere that Toni was.
For the first time, though, Addie was glad that Toni wasn’t a social media user.
The pictures of the two of them had become the base of several memes, and while most of the buzz was positive, a few montages about wanting Toni to “be their teacher” were the sort of things Addie was fairly sure Toni would hate.
Addie had turned her own account over to her manager because she mostly wanted to either defend Toni—or agree with random users that yes, she was incredibly sexy, and yes, Addie was a “lucky” person.
The low-grade envy was uncomfortable, though.
She didn’t think Toni was incredible just because she was gorgeous or wealthy or talented.
Toni, the real woman, was so much more than that.
Addie resolved to stay off socials, and when strangers recognized her in the lobby or the street, she just smiled and waved. What else could she do?
Filming went well the first few days of the week, and by Thursday, she was busy enough to not think about Toni. Much. Maybe what she needed was a hobby, a distraction, maybe she could volunteer or take a class or—
“Well, that’s one way to steal the spotlight,” Philip said as he came over beside her.
They were waiting for some cords to be better hidden.
The streets near Jackson Square were cordoned off, and elements of modern traits had been removed.
The excess of ghouls and skeletons was also not present in this small section of the city.
Outside of their filming area, it was like the holiday had exploded over the city.
Addie looked at him. “Excuse me?”
“Sleeping with the writer. I knew you were desperate when we dated, but oof.” Philip kept his voice low. “I don’t think I’ve ever sunk quite that low for attention… or to get a role.”
“Fuck off.” Addie smiled at him as she said it, feeling awkward that anyone on set might overhear.
She didn’t want a reputation as hard to work with or anything else.
Be nice. Be polite. Be soft-spoken , she reminded herself.
It wasn’t her default setting, but she wasn’t going to ruin her working environment just because her costar was a prick.
“Quick moves, too. I wondered why you insisted it was just you at the event in Rhode Island.” His gaze raked over her. “I thought you just wanted all the attention.”
“I didn’t insist on going alone. The publisher made the call.” Addie glanced around to be sure no one was nearby to overhear. “You’ve done your share of promotional things, too. You’re in a lot of the promo photos, considering that it’s a show about a lesbian detective.”
“That’s right. And conveniently, you’re now a lesbian. I knew the whole lesbian thing was a way to get attention, Addie, but this? Did you blackmail her to get the role?”
That exact accusation showed up a lot on socials , Addie realized. Obviously Philip was following the news closely since that was his first volley.
Addie turned and gave him a scathing look as her temper edged forward. She stepped closer to him for privacy. “Maybe you ought to ask yourself why the character and I have the same name?”
He glared at her. “Is that how someone gets past your frigid exterior? Offer you some fame?”
Addie opened her mouth to reply, but someone called out, “Places!” and Addie had to slip back into character.
In the show they were in the city where Philip was to introduce her to several of his friends as potential suitors, and her character was secretly there to meet a witness to a crime she’d been investigating.
The screenwriters had changed the nature of the crime twice already because the higher-ups hadn’t loved the original version.
Not sexy enough. Not controversial enough.
This part was still the same, though. Addie would be meeting a witness—one who would be set up as a potential love interest, although that wasn’t in the book.
With the cameras rolling, Philip walked through the city streets quickly enough that Addie had to cling to his arm.
That part was in the script. The revulsion she felt at touching him was, too, but Addie didn’t have to struggle to portray that particular emotion.
Neither did she have to pretend as her character looked at him and declared, “I would gladly fake a swoon and topple you into the way of oncoming carriage wheels.”
“Try it, Adelaine. You make a mistake in forcing me to be your enemy,” Philip, as Cousin Colin, said in a dark tone. It felt incredibly honest as he looked at her and declared, “I could ruin you and sleep like an innocent babe the same night.”
The flicker of fear in Addie’s heart was far too real. He wasn’t bad at acting, but he wasn’t this good. The threat was real. Regardless of what else happened, Addie made a note to herself that her costar was an enemy she could not dismiss lightly.
“Cut.”
Addie relaxed slightly as things were reset and cameras moved. This was a job, one she’d worked toward, and she wasn’t going to let any man—any person at all—ruin her joy. She’d keep alert, but that was common sense anyhow.
“Attention whore,” he muttered as he stopped at her side.
His smiles were still constant, but they felt laced with threats now.
Do I tell Marcela? My manager? Toni? Addie wasn’t sure of protocol when one’s costar was a jackass.
He wasn’t saying things that she couldn’t also read on socials, but it felt different when he was on set—and in the same hotel with her.
By the time Addie returned to the hotel, she was ready to scream. The entire day had been peppered with Philip’s whispered and muttered jabs. It was as if he wanted her to make mistakes. Addie kicked off her shoes and slipped into a pair of hotel slippers.
A glance at her socials made her wonder whether Philip was behind them or just parroting them.
Sure, there were a lot of romantic ones, but there were others accusing Addie of being a “desperate dyke” and suggesting that it was suspicious that someone with no credits was cast in such a major role when other experienced actors were interested in it.
A few even suggested that she’d blackmailed the publishers—as if they were involved in casting.
Even though Addie knew better, she worried and debated if she should say something to Toni. For now, she took a few screenshots and emailed Marcela with a note asking, “Do we need to make a statement about how casting works? Maybe a sort of behind-the-scenes from book to screen?”
Room service was at least thirty minutes away from arriving, so she left the stress of strangers castigating her, Toni, the studio, the publisher, and probably their parents, too.
People could be so vicious. Not all of them.
There were still plenty of people who said lovely things.
Sometimes hate sounded louder than kindness, though.
Instead of letting it add to her anxiety, Addie checked her email—smiling when she saw the message.
From: History Toni
To: Addie
I liked waking up to breakfast with you when you were here. Oscar Wilde misses you.
Kaelee stopped by the office. She spent several minutes telling me how fabulous you were. She’s not wrong. I saw the second teaser from the show. You are even more fabulous than I could hope. If this show succeeds, it’s because of you.
Toni
Briefly she replied:
From: Adelaine
To: History Toni
Just Oscar Wilde? I miss you. Should I be longing for the cat to cuddle instead of you?
And I think the source material is why the show exists, or did I misunderstand that detail? Maybe some of the credit goes to the talent of the author.
Addie
Not five minutes later, Toni emailed again.
From: History Toni
To: Addie
Fine. The cat has good taste. I miss you too. I don’t cuddle though. I simply hold you after your bones are sufficiently melted. It’s part of the package. I wish I could’ve held you the other night after our video chat.
I’m nearing the end of the Widow’s Curse, incidentally. I think a few days of trying not to think about what I’d rather be doing has made me productive. Halloween looks iffy. How’s work?
Toni
From: Adelaine
To: History Toni
I think you protest too much, Cuddlebug.
I am struggling to decide if it’s a conflict of interest to complain about work when work is about the adaptation your book.
Pretend I’m on a different project. My co-worker says I slept with you for the publicity.
They either cast Cousin Colin really well so he’s Method-acting or he’s just a bloody nackle-ass.
I guess it’s partly my own fault. I went out on a few dates with him, so I guess he’s still sore about me ending it.
Addie
This time, Toni called rather than emailing again.
“You went out with your costar?” Toni said instead of “hello.”
“I did. I wasn’t sure if I… I thought maybe I needed more in common to feel attraction, so I went out on a few dates with actors. Turns out, I’m simply not straight,” Addie said. “Also hello.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When did you go out with Philip?” Toni sounded tense.
“Before I moved to Scotland.” Addie glanced at the clock.
She had about ten minutes until dinner arrived.
Maybe they’d be sharing a meal at a distance.
Foolishly or not, Addie was excited by the thought.
She was a social creature, so having a dinner companion—even one who was not in the same room—was preferable.
Having Toni as that companion was even better.
“Oh! You thought I meant recently?” Addie shook her head, even though Toni couldn’t see it. “Seriously? You have massive trust issues.”
“No shit.” Toni paused, before she said lightly, “Historical swearing? If I wasn’t worried about Philip’s behavior, I might think you’re flirting with me by calling him a nackle-ass.”
“It can be both things,” Addie said, stepping onto the balcony. From here she could see the vibrance of the French Quarter, and she wished that Toni were here in person. “Just like both you and that fluffy demon are missing me.”
“True.”
“I’ll take that as an admission,” Addie teased, relieved that Toni was done panicking over infidelity.
Would it have been infidelity if we aren’t committed?
Addie had no desire to date anyone else, least of all Philip, but she found Toni’s reaction telling.
She really likes me, whether or not she admits how much.
They caught up on the minutiae of their lives for a few moments before there was a knock at the door. “Room service is here. Can you hang on a moment?”
“I can let you go,” Toni offered.
“Or you can have dinner with me,” Addie countered, opening the door to find not room service but Philip standing there. She was at such a loss that she simply stared at him. “What are you doing here?”
Through the phone, still against her ear, she heard Toni. “Addie? What’s going on? Addie!”
“I thought I’d come rekindle old flames,” Philip said. He stepped forward like he intended to come into her suite. As he did, Addie caught the unmistakable scent of some sort of liquor. Philip stared at her. “Hang up.”
“No.”
He glared. “I thought you’d get a hint when I released the photos.…”
“What?”
“An old friend was there. He sent them to me, asked why I wasn’t there, too.” Philip shrugged. “I figured if you’re going to whore yourself for the role, everyone might as well see the truth.”
“Fuck off, Philip.”
“Addie? Philip’s there? What’s going on?” Toni’s voice sounded harsh. “Talk to me.”
“If I hang up, call hotel security,” Addie told her, staring at Philip. “There’s an unwelcome guest at my door.” She looked back at him. “I wasn’t interested when we tried dating the first time, and I’m not interested now. If you think you can intimidate me, you’re stupider than I thought.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Dyke bitch. I don’t know who you think you are, but—”
Addie cut him off. “Go sober up.”
A man in a hotel uniform appeared then, wheeling a tray toward the room. “Excuse me, sir.”
Philip turned to leave, and the room-service attendant paused, glancing after him as he wobbled away. “Are you okay, miss?”
Addie affixed a professional smile. The last thing they needed was more drama attached to the show.
“Coworkers, right? I think he just took a wrong turn. Everything’s fine.
” Addie stepped to the side and the young man rolled the table in.
“Right over here would be great. I’m glad dinner arrived when it did. ”
Through the phone, Toni was obviously not calming down. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said quietly. When the room-service attendant glanced at her, she gestured toward the street, where women in tall heels were clinging to their dates and laughing. There was some sort of party nearby, but she was starting to think that was a permanent state in the French Quarter.
Smiling at the room-service guy, Addie said, “It’s such a vibrant nightlife down there.”
“That it is,” the young room-service guy said. He gave her a kind look. “Do you need anything else? A manager maybe? Anything? ”
“Addie.” Toni’s voice was still in her ear. “Are you okay?”
“Let me sign this slip,” Addie said as cheerily as she could. Then she answered both of them. “Everything is just peachy here. I’m fine. An awkward moment with a drunk coworker isn’t going to ruin my night.”
It wasn’t fine. Not really. Addie wasn’t sure what Philip was there to do. Was he just going to insult her some more? Threaten her? Worse? He was drunk, and drunk logic was never quite predictable—especially when mixed with anger.