Page 52 of Toni and Addie Go Viral

Toni

Toni felt a surge of fear that had her hands shaking. What if Addie had been alone? She was, in truth, but the room-service timing and the phone call meant there were witnesses. What if she hadn’t had anyone listening or interrupting?

As she waited for Addie to finish talking to the room-service attendant, Toni flipped open her laptop and fired off an email to Harold.

From: Toni Darbyshire

To: Harold Ellis, Department Chair

I swear this won’t become a problem/habit, Dr. Ellis, but I need to go to New Orleans for the weekend regarding trouble with the show. Could I get coverage for Friday’s class? Kaelee is more than able to teach it. If not, I will be canceling class. Emergency.

T.D.

Then she flipped over to a new email and started to draft a message, cc’ing both Marcela and Emily.

I will be in New Orleans for the weekend. Philip just appeared at Adelaine’s hotel room and called her vulgar, homophobic terms. He was the photo leak, too. He needs to be replaced. ASAP. I won’t be silent if that sort of person is associated with the show.

T.D.

Before she hit SEND , she waited to hear Addie’s version of what had happened.

“I’m back,” Addie said. “Sorry about that. Who had ‘drunk costar at the door’ on their bingo card?” She laughed awkwardly. “As if him being a jerk all day wasn’t enough.”

“Did I hear him call you a ‘dyke bitch,’ Adelaine?” Toni said as calmly as she could.

“He was drunk—”

“Addie,” Toni interrupted. “Did I hear that correctly?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?” Toni’s tone was softer, even though she felt certain that there were coils of lava rolling through her veins.

“It’s not the first or last ugly thing someone will say to either of us,” Addie said lightly.

“He saw the show as a star vehicle for him, and he was drinking, and all the buzz is either about me or about the marriage. The new clips were something like ninety percent featuring me, and then the photos—”

“Which he leaked,” Toni interjected. “He admitted that, right?”

“Yes. He wants more publicity, and apparently, he can’t fathom how I’m the star. Lead named character, but my success is because of you.” Addie sounded both hurt and frustrated.

“Ignore him, please. The clips are about you because it’s a show about a female Victorian detective,” Toni pointed out. “And because you’re amazing.”

Toni clicked SEND on her email. There were plenty of actors they could recast, and the team wasn’t so far into the filming that he couldn’t be replaced or written out of the show.

If necessary, she’d kill him in the book.

That would create a huge plot hole, but she’d figure it out.

She wasn’t sure what the options were, but keeping him on the show wasn’t one of them. Of that, she was certain.

Addie sighed. “He admitted the photo leak, Toni. The whole media thing. He thought it would ruin me. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Addie! Why would I blame you for his actions?” Toni asked.

Plus, he gave me extra fodder to insist they fire his ass.

“I know you’re an introvert, and you hated your life being in the media.” Addie sniffled. “It was my fault.”

“No. It was his fault, and honestly”—Toni sighed—“the media wouldn’t have been so extreme if I wasn’t staring at you like you were the answer to every prayer I’ve ever had.”

“Really?” Addie’s voice was tremulous.

“Really. I admitted as much when I emailed the publisher. They said it in more polite terms than I did, but the sentiment is the same. What I should’ve added was that you were my muse, Adelaine.

My good luck charm. I named a character after you once the book was written, but this sequel exists because you returned to my life. ”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not just saying it. It’s true. New topic,” Toni said, rather than arguing. “Do I need my own hotel room? Or can I stay with you?”

“You’re coming after all? I thought you said it was unlikely?” Addie sounded like someone had just given her a new puppy. Her ability to switch moods was beautiful in that moment.

“I am coming to New Orleans.” Toni clicked on available flights. There was one leaving at 5 A.M. She glanced at the clock. “I ought to get to bed soon, but I wanted to let you know. I made it work.”

“You mean… tomorrow? Not on Saturday but tomorrow? Halloween?”

“I do mean exactly that.” Toni pulled out her wallet and a credit card she used for business expenses. It’s a business expense if it’s for the show, right? Foolishly or not, she swapped that card out for her personal one. Seeing Addie wasn’t business.

“I’m filming until midafternoon,” Addie reminded her.

“So I’ll nap in your bed, if that’s okay,” Toni countered. “Unless you don’t want me to be in your room…?”

“No! I mean yes.” Addie let out a joyful squeal. “Yes, please. Stay with me. Come see me. I’ll ask for a spare blanket at the front desk.”

“Or you could just sleep on top of me and then you don’t need the covers,” Toni suggested, only half joking.

“So that’s the trick? I just stay in your arms all night?” Addie teased. “What time do you arrive?”

Toni finished buying the ticket and looked at the receipt. “I land at eight ten. I have an open invitation to the set.… Would you mind if I came by? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, especially with all the wedding talk still buzzing around.”

While there wasn’t as much drama as in the initial forty-eight hours, it was still enough that Toni wanted to cringe away.

Her fear of being judged had kept her off social media, off news sites, and Emily filtered everything.

She isn’t a student or fan, though. She is a beautiful woman I met before the book even sold.

Maybe admitting that was the wrong move, or maybe she ought to accept an interview and clear the air.

“I’m not embarrassed that people think you’d choose me as a lover,” Addie said.

“So I can come by the set without making you uncomfortable?” Toni pressed.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘uncomfortable,’ and it probably depends on how you greet me when you arrive.” Addie’s voice was light, but she sounded more serious, more anxious, than Toni wanted to hear.

“Last time, I crawled under your skirt and put my mouth—”

“Toni!” Addie laughed. “I’m fairly sure that isn’t a public act.”

“Says the woman who suggested sex in my Jeep at the Kennedy Center parking garage,” Toni teased. “And tried to seduce me in my office.”

“So no sex at work? Either of our places of work?” Addie said, still sounding like she might laugh.

“What about phone sex tonight? Or video again?”

Addie’s breath caught. “Maybe, but I thought you had an early flight.”

“I’ll sleep better if I know you’re resting and relaxed,” Toni pointed out. She stopped herself then and added, “I didn’t like hearing you afraid and vulnerable, love. I’m on edge now.”

“I’m safe. I swear.” Addie paused. “There are two locks on the door, and I’m on the second floor staring down at the French Quarter.”

Toni sighed. “Can I ask that you also lock the balcony before I hang up to sleep?”

Addie was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Done. You don’t need to worry, though. I’m not worried. He was drunk, and I should’ve looked through the peephole and—”

“He is angry, drunk, and homophobic.” Toni forced back her temper. Men like Philip expected a level of entitlement just because they were cis, het, white, able-bodied, reasonably attractive men. When she was a child, she used to believe that there was fairness at some point.

If she was educated enough.

If she was strong enough.

If she wasn’t poor.

If she didn’t look so queer.

If she didn’t flinch at their rudeness or sexism or homophobic jokes.

Now she realized that for some people, there was never a point at which they would become tolerant. Their fear was permanent—from discomfort with drag shows to book bans to trying to legislate away women’s bodily autonomy. Some people would always let their baseless fear drive their actions.

But that doesn’t mean that Addie ought to have to face it alone. No one should, really, but Addie, especially, Toni wanted to protect.

And while Toni couldn’t protect everyone, she was damned if she was going to let her… whatever Addie was be at risk.

There ought to be a word for people you like to spend time with and have sex with. More than “lover.” Her brain filled in: There is a word, and you know what it ought to be. “Girlfriend.” “Woman.” “Partner.” “Beloved.” Pick one.

Toni couldn’t sit still. She shoved that series of dangerous thoughts away and started throwing assorted clothes into a bag. She paused and filled up the cat’s autofeeder and autowaterer.

“I’m not okay with Philip’s behavior, love,” Toni said softly. “I’d feel that way if I didn’t know you. I’d feel that way if you were any actor who had the lead in this show.”

“So it’s not personal?” Addie asked quietly.

“Damn it, Addie. Of course it’s also personal. You’re mine, and you shouldn’t have to suffer for that.” Toni’s temper had always bubbled up like a geyser, but she’d spent the last decade learning how to control it.

Until Addie.

“Yours, huh?” Addie replied, voice soft and sweet.

Toni could kick herself for the slip. “My friend, the actor in my show…”

“Your lover,” Addie filled in the space.

“Yes.” Toni closed her eyes, trying to keep the other words from spilling out her lips.

She wanted that for the first time in her life, but it wasn’t what was best for Addie.

Instead of the other words that curled at the back of her tongue, Toni said, “I don’t ever want to cause you problems, and because you were with me—”

“Toni,” Addie interrupted. “You were my first and my only, but if I was not with you, there would still be someone else eventually. I was still a lesbian before we were in bed. So… just don’t borrow trouble that’s not yours.”

Toni switched the topic to resist the reaction she had to the idea of someone else touching Addie. She said, “You’ve used that phrase before, you know, about borrowing trouble.”

“One of my therapists said that a lot, because my parents were such a disaster, I took on blame that wasn’t mine.

I was borrowing other people’s baggage, basically.

I think about that a lot. I guess I use it a lot.

” Addie sighed. “The point is that I don’t need you to carry my baggage, Toni, and I won’t carry yours. ”

The words felt like a warning, and Toni had a fleeting thought that her baggage was eventually going to be the cause of their end. She could only hope their inevitable parting would be mild enough that she could keep Addie as a friend at the end.

What if I can’t? What if she hates me? What if occasional days together stop being enough?

“Halloween in New Orleans,” Toni said, pushing her flare of panic away. “Shall I pack a costume for you, too?”

Addie laughed. “I do have a few Victorian dresses. All I’m missing is a woman in a good suit. Know anyone who might be willing to escort me?”

“Incidentally, I have just such a suit.” Toni wasn’t sure how she’d gotten this lucky. Addie was everything Toni didn’t think could exist in one person, and she continued to be a historian’s dream woman.

My dream woman.

Maybe we could keep this up at least until the show’s season is filmed… or maybe until they decide about a second season.

Before disconnecting, Toni said, “Promise me you’ll be careful, Addie. The thought of something happening…” Her words trailed off, because Toni couldn’t even pronounce the rest of that thought. “Security can escort you if you go anywhere. I can pay them for—”

“You’re not my sugar mama, Toni. I don’t need you to pay anyone or do anything. Philip was a drunk jerk. That’s all.” Addie sighed. “I’m not your responsibility.”

But I want you to be, Toni admitted to herself. I really need to get my feelings in check because I want you to be, Addie. And I want to be yours.

Aloud, though, all she said was, “I’ll see you in the morning, love.”