Page 34 of Wish You Were Her

Allegra couldn’t sleep.

Her father had brought her a tray of food along with a disapproving aura, but they hadn’t exchanged words. Her phone remained switched off. It was her first day off from the festival and she planned to spend it in hiding.

She knew what was going to happen anyway. Press would already be descending on Lake Pristine. So, Natalie and her management would have a car come to collect her. One with tinted windows and a surly, silent driver. It would spirit her away, back to the city. To her empty apartment.

Back to the glamorous grindstone.

Back to colleagues instead of friends.

Back to stone.

As late morning slipped into her room, her self-pity was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Her father was manning the shop downstairs, so Allegra slipped into the hall. She cracked the door open a little, just in case her father had unwittingly sent a journalist up to their flat.

It was Jasper Montgomery.

Her face was so full of empathy, Allegra feared she might cry if she had any tears left.

“May I come in?”

“Sure.”

Jasper stepped into the flat, her interior designer eyes landing on every piece of furniture in a sweeping survey of the room. She was obviously not too impressed but she smiled warmly at Allegra.

“This is fucking shit.”

Allegra laughed at the woman’s bluntness. “Yes, it is.”

“I can’t believe they get to do this to you.”

“Yeah, well. Price of fame.”

“I’m checking the security tapes. If they even brushed at the borders of our land at the Lakehouse, I’m suing them to within an inch of their lives.”

“Thanks.”

They sat on Allegra’s bed and Jasper took her hand. “Have you spoken to anyone?”

“No. My publicist, briefly. She’ll be putting a plan together. They’ll have me out of here by tonight.”

Jasper scanned Allegra’s face, as though trying to catch her tells. “Is that what you want, though?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want. I’m the one who fucked up.”

“You did not fuck up, sweets. You got preyed on by a horrible photographer and an unscrupulous editor.”

Hearing Jasper say it made Allegra feel like some of the curse was lifting. “I—it’s not just my reputation, everyone I work with will be worried about implication.”

“Well, if anyone gives you a hard time about this, they don’t deserve to work with you.”

Allegra felt her breath quicken and her jaw start to tremble. “I might have ruined Jonah’s life. Those pictures will be online forever.”

“Allegra,” Jasper said her name softly. “Jonah will not agree with that assessment. You haven’t ruined anyone’s life, least of all his.”

One tear slid free before Allegra could stop it. Jasper quickly caught it, but made no fuss. Instead, she reached into a large Dior tote to remove what looked like a portfolio.

“What’s this?” asked Allegra.

“Well, I’m actually here on business,” Jasper said, speaking with a brisk and bright tone. “I wanted to pitch something to you.”

Allegra’s eyebrows shot up. “A pitch?”

“Yes. I wasn’t able to stop thinking about what you said last night, about your unfinished apartment.”

Allegra stared at the sketches and colors Jasper was showing her. “You—you want to design my apartment?”

“Well, I would have to see what I’m working with but yes, I would love to. I think your first home as an adult should be entirely to your own taste. Screw what anybody else thinks. I will literally just make your ideas happen.”

Allegra could have kissed her. Somehow, Jasper had known that she needed distraction. More than anything, she needed to be diverted from everything that people were thinking and saying about her.

“And, I’ll waive my fee,” Jasper said, after showing Allegra samples and drawings and design ideas. “Only invoice for furniture and trimmings. As an apology for letting that shit go down while you were under my roof.”

“Jasper,” Allegra shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

“Well, it’s definitely not yours ,” Jasper said quickly. “Now. Talk me through your apartment.”

Jonah was due to start his shift at the festival, but he was not looking for volunteers to direct or guests to usher in.

He was searching for one person and one person alone.

He showered, shaved and threw on a white tee and jeans, plus his boots, before jogging to Main Street and heading for the festival site.

Volunteers were guiding a mass of visitors through the hay bales that represented the opening gates.

Children were coming out of a smaller tent, many of them wearing face paint.

There were food carts and ice cream vendors set up.

People sat in deck chairs, reading newly purchased books.

Everything was as it should be and Jonah would normally take a moment to appreciate their hard work paying off.

Not this year.

When he entered the green room, a few volunteers were already there and setting up for a full morning. Kerrie was organizing the hot drinks station and when she saw Jonah, her face darkened.

“Come to meet your new adoring fans?” she asked him sharply.

“No, Kerrie,” he said, less sharply than her but still with feeling. “You’re being mean. I’m sorry if those pictures hurt you but you’re not my priority. I’m not sorry I like Allegra, okay? Where’s Simon?”

“Those pictures didn’t hurt me,” Kerrie snapped, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I was stupid at that party. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Sure. Fine. Where’s Simon?”

“He’s taking the morning off. He’s not loving the news cycle right now.”

“You mean the one he initiated? He gave both of our names to some leech and now we’re all indicted. Allegra more than anyone.”

“She’s a big girl, Jonah, she’ll be fine.”

Jonah had been moving to leave the green room but that shifted something in him. He rounded on Kerrie, glaring at her. “She’s been nothing but nice to you, Kerrie. More than nice. Why the hell have you turned on her?”

“I haven’t turned on anyone, her dramatic tendencies are obviously rubbing off on you. Probably when you were rubbing all over her!”

Jonah wished he could give Kerrie what she wanted.

He wished he could even know what that was.

He knew there was hurt bubbling beneath the disdain and the antagonism she was demonstrating.

Her resentment was a sour perfume she was trying to spray over her pain, hoping no one could scent what was really the matter.

“Kerrie, I’m sorry if you thought I was leading you on.” Jonah tried to be understanding, despite the adrenaline pumping through him. “I’m sorry for all of it. But I hope you don’t take this out on Allegra.”

“God, the way you defend her,” Kerrie said, almost inaudibly. She suddenly seemed overly fascinated with her cuticles. “She’s a multi-millionaire, Jonah, she’ll be fine.”

Jonah threw her a look of disgust and then stormed out of the tent. He was about to cross Main Street and head for Simon’s house on the other side of town, when he realized that a small crowd had gathered by the Arthouse.

Jonah saw, a little too late, that the press had set up just outside of the retro movie house and were waiting to see if anyone would talk to them about Allegra.

Mrs. Heywood was saying something to a reporter with a camera but judging by his bored expression, it was probably nothing salacious.

More likely local gossip about Virgil who ran the flower shop, a person Mrs. Heywood famously hated.

Jonah stepped back into the shadow of a tall tree, making sure to stay out of their eyeline.

Most of them looked fed up, which he supposed was a good sign.

A large black Mercedes suddenly pulled up, parking near Brooks Books.

The driver stepped out and went straight into the bookshop.

Jonah watched with curiosity and a slight pang of worry.

Ten minutes later, the driver exited the bookshop carrying a pale pink suitcase. A few reporters spotted him putting it in the trunk of the car and they began to lurk a little closer. Jonah started to truly panic when they all suddenly rushed en masse, like a flock of pigeons to a handful of seeds.

Allegra emerged from Brooks Books. And, while she always looked beautiful to Jonah, in this moment she looked every inch a movie star.

Cameras clicked and people shouted, as she walked to the backseat of the car.

Her long hair was piled into a neat updo.

Her oversized Valentino shades covered most of her pretty face, but her lips were a dark cherry color.

She wore pink pearl drop earrings. A pair of Manolos. A simple white dress with no sleeves.

Her face gave absolutely nothing away as she opened the car door herself, shaking her head ever so slightly at the driver when he offered to do so.

Questions were barked at her but she had clearly dismissed them all. Jonah felt his heart drop in his ribs: she was about to leave. Possibly forever.

He shifted forward, almost involuntarily. As if sensing him, Allegra looked up. Her mask slipped for the tiniest moment. She tipped her shades down for a millisecond and let him see a whole world of emotion in her eyes. Apology. Appreciation. Something unnameable.

And goodbye.

Jonah felt his heart shatter. It cracked and then broke like glass.

As he watched the car pull away, the press momentarily wilted and sighed as a group—as if someone had thrown cold water over them. But then, before Jonah was able to make his own escape, he watched realization spark on one reporter’s face.

“Hey! Jonah?”

Jonah didn’t know what to do. He wondered if anyone had ever sat Allegra down and taught her how to handle this strange intrusion. He set off toward the festival site. Then stopped. He couldn’t lead this mob to his place of work.

“Jonah, have the two of you called off your relationship? Will you still be friends? Did you get to say goodbye?”

Jonah felt the cold, grasping anxiety of being chased. Corners and blockades felt more intense and he wasn’t sure of where to run. He knew Allegra needed him to be silent.

He made for the Arthouse.