Page 33 of Never Date a Celebrity

She heard Helen tutting at the other end of the line. “And you never fail to call me out for it. I can’t win with you.”

Amelia chuckled because she was right. “What’s up? Is this about the action movie? Because I already told Veronica that I’ll read over the script in the next few days. My filming schedule is insane right now.”

Helen cleared her throat. “No, this is personal.”

“Uh-oh, that sounds ominous.”

“Mmm. Then I’ll cut to the chase—I looked into this Imogen woman.”

Too many seconds of silence then followed. “And?” Amelia said slowly.

“And I found her, which was miraculous with how little information you gave me and the fact that she’s like a ghost on socials. Seriously, Amelia, not even a last name. I can’t even begin to tell you the lengths I had to go to.”

To be fair, Amelia didn’t know Imogen’s last name—she’d been afraid to ask in case Imogen asked for hers in return. And she hadn’t had much else to go on either, but she had been particularly sparse with the few details she had provided Helen with. It didn’t feel right snooping on Imogen. Nor necessary. “Employing hackers?”

“I must say it was tempting, but no, not this time,” Helen replied evenly.

Amelia couldn’t be sure whether she was serious or not, but then again, she wouldn’t be surprised if Helen did have hackers or some other choice characters on her payroll. Come hell or high water, Helen always managed to get shit done. Amelia often wondered about her methods of conquering the impossible. It was why she was the best publicist in the business—her extensive knowledge and preparation were immaculate.

Helen continued. “I did some serious digging on the internet trail.”

“Trail?”

“Oh, there’s always a trail. I started with the bar. Found the friends. Who, after a lot of investigating, eventually led me to the old job at a company called Clover. Then I had to sift through reams of boring insurance pages until I managed to find photographs of an extremely dull-looking work function from five years ago. It was a lot. But I got there, and all that led me to your Imogen King.”

Huh. Imogen King suited her somehow. “Okay. And?” Amelia asked again. She didn’t really care what Helen had to tell her as she was more than capable of making her own mind up about Imogen, but the quicker Amelia got her to say it, the quicker she could get off the call and go text her.

“And I think I worked out the reason why she’s a ghost. Have you heard of an influencer who goes by Chelsealicious?”

“No,” Amelia lied. The last thing she wanted to do was open herself up to a fishing expedition from Helen about what she knew about her already. This was Imogen’s very personal business they were treading on. She hated it already.

“It’s the ex-girlfriend, darling. The ex-girlfriend who ensured that your little love interest was well and truly cancelled. And I mean Cancelled—with a capital C. There was a very public internet shaming when they broke up, and frankly, it was painful to watch. Anyway, the whole thing went viral.”

Amelia was glad that she hadn’t seen it, and she never wanted to either. Her heart felt like it had been squeezed in a vice just thinking about how hard it must have been for Imogen to go through that. “Well, isn’t it so sad that happened? Poor Imogen.”

“Mmm. Poor Imogen perhaps. But cancelled is cancelled, and getting with someone who has been disgraced so publicly wouldn’t be good for your image.”

Amelia tightened her grip on the phone. “But Imogen’s the victim here—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Helen interjected. “Come on, Amelia. You know the game. Reporters and gossip sites don’t give a damn about the truth. All they want is a juicy story, and who’s at fault is irrelevant. This Chelsealicious, who has a significant following, labelled Imogen as toxic. Untrue or not, her followers believed it and got behind her like an army. The comments were as cutthroat as I’ve ever seen. If you and Imogen were to start dating, both the press and the public would be all over you like a rash. The scrutiny alone could be damaging.”

“I don’t care,” Amelia said, not caring how petulant or obstinate she sounded.

“Well, I do, and your career will,” Helen said matter-of-factly. “You’re a successful, openly gay, beloved A-lister with a squeaky-clean image. A Hollywood sweetheart—I made sure of it, although I admit that you’ve always made it incredibly easy for me. However, it only takes one small scandal to tarnish the whole thing, Amelia. You know this.”

Amelia threw her free hand up in the air in frustration and almost fell backward off the wall, but she quickly grabbed on again. “But—”

Helen interrupted again. “And it won’t only be you who’s affected. Imogen will suffer too when everything from her past inevitably gets dragged back up again.”

Okay, that made Amelia feel a bit more nauseated. “So, what are you saying? That I can’t date her?”

Helen sighed. “You know me better than that. I would never tell you who you can or cannot date, and I imagine you would ignore me if I tried to.”

She imagined right. “So, what then?”

“All I can do is give you the information I have and advise you accordingly. In this case, my advice is to stay away. If you choose to do otherwise, then be upfront with me about it so I can be adequately prepared for the backlash. Needless to say, you’ll be charged accordingly.” Amelia could hear a smile in her voice at that last part.

“I wouldn’t expect any different.” Amelia closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. “Look, Imogen doesn’t even know who I am.”