Page 22 of You Belong With Me

‘Hi, yes! Nice to meet you. You’re Lil—’

‘Elliot tells me you’re in a serious relationship.’

Oof, OK.

‘Yes.’

‘We’re going to discuss how we manage this in the press.’

‘Right.’

In this line of work, in sparkling offices in Manhattan (offices, on a Sunday? Maybe her home office?), you obviously didn’t waste energy trying to ingratiate yourself without purpose. You’re not in Kansas now, Dorothy.

‘The difficulty we have in launching this relationship is that the images already in the public domain are negative,’ Lillian said. ‘We’ve seen a quarrel between you both in the street, and you making aggressive gestures.’

Edie felt she was being told off. ‘That’s the V-sign – it’s popular here,’ Edie said, deciding that even if her humour went down badly, she was still going to use it.

‘We can translate it into the American,’ Lillian said, and Edie couldn’t tell if she was being dryly funny or merely literal.

‘We weren’t a couple then,’ Edie added redundantly, and Lillian regarded her coolly through her Prada eyewear, as if Edie had mistaken her for a relationship counsellor.

‘My advice in future is never lose your temper or argue – it makes the photos more valuable. If someone puts a camera in your face after a meal out and insults you to get a reaction, keep your head down. And hold his hand, so they can’t use the pictures to claim you had a fight.’

Edie nodded. She was going into witness protection.

‘My suggestion to move the narrative forward from the fracas inNoddingham– we stage paparazzi photos, somewhere cute, maybe Central Park? Affectionate. Coffee cups. Woollens. Linking arms. Make it clear you’ve put that initial volatility behind you.’

‘Stagethem?’ Edie repeated. ‘Why would we do that? Elliot doesn’t need to be more famous?’

Lillian removed her glasses, which Edie suspected she only did when addressing spectacular dipshits. ‘Do you want to go to restaurants, to cafés and bars, to parties with Elliot? Do you want to buy your own groceries and get your own flat whites, or send someone to get them?’

‘Is this a trick question?’

Edie was starting to not like Lillian very much. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.

‘My point is: pictures will be taken anyway. We can control them, or not. We can write the story, or they will.’

‘… The game is out there, it’s either play or get played,’ Edie said. ‘That’s Omar inThe Wire.’

Lillian flickered a smile. Breakthrough.

‘Whenever new photos land, I’m going to give them anunnamed source, close to you bothquote saying you’re a healthy match for Elliot, not awed by his success – try to reframe those earlier images as a positive. Spunky British girl, heart in the right place. The whole kinda lovable Bridget Jones thing.’

Lillian held her palms up and moved them in outward circles, like she was washing a window, and Edie feared she was gesturing at Edie’s imaginary bum.

‘Why don’t you get his parents to say they like me? I’m fairly sure they do.’

Lillian did a perceptible double-take as she put her glasses back on. ‘Parents are quoted saying they like you when there’s an engagement, not before.’

‘Oh,’ said Edie, as chastened as a primary schooler. She appreciated Lillian was allowing for Edie not being the Zoom-meeting girlfriend in six months’ time, and maybe Edie should, too.

‘… But I don’t really care what the press say about our relationship, if they have no real information?’

Lillian blanched. ‘You are a private citizen. Elliot is not. His career can be affected by the coverage of his private life. If it’s mishandled, it becomes an image problem. Studios hire the whole package.’

‘Really? That’s so … unfair.’

‘You think Ben Affleck got offered good roles by serious directors, twenty years ago, when he became a joke and a sideshow with Jennifer Lopez?’

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