The bitterness in his voice confirms the truth. “What has she been doing?”
“Acupuncture. Diet.” He sighs. “I talked her into working the show in Canada because I thought a new environment might help ease her into talking to someone and getting help. She can’t do that back home. She feels too much shame.”
“It’s getting worse?”
He drops his hands down between his legs and lowers his head. “She’s struggling. She’s desperate to hide it from everyone and I’m the only person she can talk to. I’m so used to protecting her secret that to hear you say it made me overreact.”
“She needs to talk to a therapist, a doctor. There are medications that help.” I hesitate. “I’m on them.”
His eyes flash back to me. “What?”
“I have panic, too. Depression. I started taking meds two years ago.” It’s hard to talk about. I know it happens and I know it’s not uncommon, I really do, but part of me still thinks being on medication seems weak, like I can’t deal. I know it’s wrong, but in my head, it’s a willpower issue, not a brain chemical issue.
His grin is wry. “Sounds like you’re similar in more ways than appearance.”
“How can I help her?”
“I wasn’t lying last night when I said you being here was helping her. She’s managing better.”
I make a decision. I hold out my hand, palm raised. “Let’s start over. Instead of you thinking I’m a hopeless failure and me thinking you’re an arrogant two-dimensional douchebag, let’s be Gracie and Sam, doing a job together.”
“I never said you were that,” he protests. Then he pauses. “Hold on. That’s how you see me?”
I stare pointedly at my hand in answer.
“I’m sorry.” He takes my hand briefly and lets it go. “I took my anger out on you because I couldn’t stop this plan of Fangli’s from happening. It was a dick move, as I think you would call it.”
“I would,” I agree with equanimity.
“Right, okay. Glad we got that sorted.”
“Hi, Sam,” I say. “Nice to meet you.”
This time, he’s the one who reaches out his hand. “Gracie. I look forward to our partnership.”
When we shake, I’m not touching Sam Yao, famous movie star. He’s only Sam.
A Sam who becomes awkward when our hands release. He looks down, flexing his fingers and frowning. “Where do we go from here?” he asks.
His open uncertainty is comforting in one way—it’s nice to see he’s only human—but also disturbing in that at least one of us should know how the hell to navigate this situation.
That person will have to be me.
“We keep working but we do it together,” I decide. “I’ll tell you if I need help instead of avoiding the situation.”
“I’ll try to listen.”
“Sam.”
“I will listen,” he says.
I pull out a paper and he watches as I write. Although I can see him almost vibrating with curiosity, he waits until I’m ready. I hand over the sheet and he reads out loud in his low voice.
“‘This agreement （the ‘Agreement’） dated on this 26th day of June lays out the working arrangement （‘Arrangement’） of Sam Yao and Gracie Reed.’” Here he looks up. “Is the legal language necessary?”
“Makes it binding.”
Sam goes back to the sheet.
“‘Both parties solemnly swear to: One. Treat each other with the respect due to a work colleague,’” he reads. “Why did you number it if you only have one rule?”
“You can add more,” I say. “Everything else seemed redundant.”
He thinks for a while, then shrugs. “You’re probably right.” He signs with a flourish and hands it over. I sign and fold the paper.
“Now it’s official,” I say. “We’re partners.”
He grins, a lopsided expression that soon turns into a boisterous laugh. “You’re something else, Gracie Reed.”
I can’t help but smile back. I think he might be right.
Eighteen
The next two days are an easy schedule I enjoy. I settle my severance with Garnet Brothers and set up an in-box rule so all messages with a garnetbrothers.com email go straight to Fred the Lawyer. I hadn’t realized how much I dreaded opening my email and seeing one from Todd.
I devote most of my days to Fangli practice and this time I do it right, listing all the ways she could be approached and my planned responses. If someone comes up to me on the street. In the washroom. Wants a photo. Wants a selfie, an autograph. I go on a binge of Fangli content until I’m able to parrot her mannerisms to the point that I slip into my Fangli persona even when I’m not in public. Sam assures me it happens to him when he gets deep into a role.