Contents

  Also by Barbara Freethy

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  What to read next…

  An invitation…

  About the Author

  Also by Barbara Freethy

  Mystery Thriller Standalones

  * * *

  ALL THE PRETTY PEOPLE

  LAST ONE TO KNOW

  THE OTHER EMILY

  * * *

  OFF THE GRID: FBI SERIES

  PERILOUS TRUST

  RECKLESS WHISPER

  DESPERATE PLAY

  ELUSIVE PROMISE

  DANGEROUS CHOICE

  RUTHLESS CROSS

  CRITICAL DOUBT

  FEARLESS PURSUIT

  DARING DECEPTION

  RISKY BARGAIN

  * * *

  For a complete list of books, visit Barbara’s Website!

  The Other Emily - Blurb

  In this heart-stopping psychological thriller, Emily Hollister's seemingly perfect life unravels when she becomes the target of someone intent on taking over her life.

  * * *

  "I know what you did."

  * * *

  The anonymous note starts an ominous game of cat and mouse. Soon, Emily finds herself trapped in a web of gaslighting and manipulation. Someone is lurking in the shadows, observing her every move, and insidiously replacing her in her own existence.

  * * *

  With no one she can trust, Emily turns to a stranger for help, an ex-soldier with his own baggage to carry, but is he who he appears to be?

  * * *

  As the danger escalates, Emily fights to put an end to the terrifying charade. With all the skeletons in her past, unmasking her tormentor is no easy task, but if she fails, she may find herself erased from her own life.

  THE OTHER EMILY

  © Copyright 2023 Barbara Freethy

  All Rights Reserved

  * * *

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  For more information: http://www.barbarafreethy.com

  Chapter One

  Lights. Camera. Action…

  Words I'd said before as a film director. Words that were going through my head now as an honoree for the prestigious Top 30 Under 30 List by VIP Magazine.

  I wasn't ready for the lights, the cameras, or the action. But as I looked out the window of the limo, which was crawling through the heavy Los Angeles traffic, I realized I needed to get ready fast. I could see the bright spotlights surrounding the entrance to the Excelsior Hotel in Hollywood, where the red carpet was set up, and photographers were waiting to snap photos of me and the other twenty-nine rising stars.

  I couldn't believe I'd made the list.

  Me, Emily Hollister, had become someone important. It seemed impossible to believe.

  I'd been born into nothing and lived a very rough and ragged life. But at twenty-eight years old, I'd scratched and scraped my way into a senior producer/director role at Holly Roads Productions, where a freak accident had led to me directing what had turned out to be the movie of the year. The sequence of events that had brought me to this moment was nothing I could have imagined.

  I should be feeling cocky and excited to celebrate, but my palms were sweating and I was fighting back an urge to jump out of the limo and run away into the dark of the night. I'd always felt more comfortable in the shadows, but I also knew how to put on a mask, be who people thought I should be, which was what I would do tonight.

  "Emily?"

  I turned away from the window to meet the questioning eyes of Francine Montgomery, the vice president of Holly Roads Productions, and my mentor. Francine was an attractive blonde in her early fifties, who had been working in Hollywood for thirty years. She'd started the production company ten years ago with her partner, David Valenti, and a significant investment from wealthy entertainment lawyer, Curtis Nolan, who also was one of her ex-husbands.

  "What's wrong, Emily?" Francine asked, her sharp, penetrating gaze always making me think she saw a little too much.

  "Nothing." I forced a smile onto my face. "Just nervous. I'm not used to being the one in front of the cameras."

  "You'll do fine. You're young, beautiful, and smart. And you just directed a blockbuster movie that brought in more money on opening day than any other film in the past year. There's already talk of Oscar nominations, for the film and for you."

  "That seems impossible to believe. I can't see the Academy giving me the nomination when I only ended up directing because Mitchell was injured, and we were in a remote location. There was no time to get anyone else to the other side of the world to take over. They're going to take all that into account."

  "Maybe. Maybe not. It's probably a long shot," she conceded. "You're young and you're female, so those are also two strikes against you, but your work was brilliant, and that may sway some voting members."

  Despite her words, I wouldn't let myself even consider the possibility of getting an Oscar nomination.

  "You need to stop being so modest, Emily," Francine continued. "You caught a lucky break, but when given the opportunity to shine, you did just that. I am very proud of you, and I have to take a little credit for your success. I hired you to be an intern eight years ago."

  "For which I will always be grateful," I said, as we exchanged a smile.

  "This honor tonight—it's a big deal," Francine said. "It not only gives you some press, it also puts our company out there, and that's always important. Your honor is our honor. Try to remember that. You're not doing this just for you, but for us, and you've always been a team player." Francine paused. "I'm glad you let Gina style you tonight. You look…perfect. And it's nice to see you out of jeans and a sweatshirt. You're a beautiful woman, Emily."

  I had never thought of myself as beautiful, maybe not horribly unattractive, but when I looked in the mirror, I saw past the face that looked back at me, the face that always felt like a mask. I knew what I looked like on the inside, and it wasn't that great. But tonight, my mask was exceptionally good, with my long brown hair falling in soft waves around my shoulders, my brown eyes framed by thickened lashes, and my makeup giving a glow to my pale skin. My champagne-gold mini dress clung to my body, showing off my curves and a lot of leg. But I wasn't entirely sure I wouldn't trip down the red carpet in my ridiculously high strappy heels.

  I couldn't think about that. I needed to get over my anxiety. This was a great opportunity for me and the company, and I didn't want to mess it up.

  "Francine is right. You look great, Emily," Kaitlyn interjected, drawing my gaze to the seat across from me. Kaitlyn Dahl had joined the team as my assistant three months ago and was a twenty-three-year-old, starry-eyed brunette who probably couldn’t wait to find herself in my position.

  Kaitlyn had graduated from film school a year earlier and had little practical experience but a lot of ambitious drive and confidence. She was willing to do whatever job was thrown at her, no matter how mundane. Having been in her position myself, I knew how mundane those tasks could be. But Kaitlyn had a willing attitude and a sincere belief that every step she took would get her closer to where she wanted to be. In some ways, she reminded me of myself and how I'd felt at twenty-three. The five-year age difference between us wasn't much, but sometimes it felt huge. But that was probably because I'd had to grow up fast when I was a child, always making me feel older than my years.

  "You both look good, too," I said. "I'm really glad you're with me tonight. When Ashton told me he'd have to meet me at the party, I was not looking forward to going into the hotel alone."

  "Why is Ashton so busy that he can't walk the red carpet with you?" Francine asked, a note of annoyance in her voice, reminding me she wasn't a big fan of the man I was currently dating.

  "He's shooting a guest spot on The Trigger Man," I replied. "They've had some issues and are running late, which is perfectly understandable."

  "I suppose," Francine said halfheartedly.

  "Ashton is a good guy. You should get to know him."

  Francine gave me a somewhat odd look. "I know him, or, I should say, I know men just like him. My first husband was an actor, and I got to see his act every night until I realized he had more audiences than just me."

  "I'm sorry that he cheated on you."

  "You can't trust actors, Emily. They're very good at pretending to be whoever you want them to be."

  Francine didn't realize that wasn'
t the best argument she could have used, because I was good at pretending, too. Or at least, I used to be. I was giving away far too much tonight.

  "Well, I think Ashton is a dream," Kaitlyn said with a small sigh. "He's handsome and so interesting. Whenever he drops by to see you, Emily, he always takes a minute to ask me how I am. You're lucky."

  I ignored Francine's eye roll and smiled at Kaitlyn. "I think so, too." I actually didn't know what I really thought about Ashton. He seemed like a good guy, but we'd only been going out for six weeks. Right now, it was fun, and that was all I was looking for. I wasn't even sure there was anything else to look for. I didn't have a high opinion of love and an even lower opinion of marriage.

  "What's happening with the screenplay on Aces High?" Francine asked, changing the subject to the movie we would start shooting in the next few months. "How is Roy doing on the screenplay revisions?"

  "After his usual tantrum, he settled in."

  Roy Vignetti was a talented screenwriter but could also be obnoxious when asked to make even the smallest edits. I had to handle him with kid gloves, because he was constantly threatening to quit, and I needed him to finish the script we'd been developing for months. "I should have a new draft to look at on Monday," I added. "How are the negotiations going with Natasha Rodrigo? She's perfect for the role of Elena."

  "Her agent wants double what we offered," Francine replied, her lips tightening. "I want you to come with me to lunch tomorrow at the Moonraker. Show her how well the two of you will work together."

  "Will we work together?" I licked my lips as I felt another wave of nerves that had nothing to do with the party. While I'd stepped in for Mitchell Gray on the last movie after he was injured on the set, he was still our top director, with three Academy Award-nominated films to his name, and Francine had been very cagey about whether I'd be producing or directing the upcoming film.

  "Yes. I need both of you for this movie. Mitchell is ready to direct." Francine paused. "And you'll be working alongside him."

  "But he'll be calling the shots." My stomach twisted with disappointment.

  "You did a great job, Emily, but Mitchell is one of the greatest directors of all time. There's still a lot you can learn from him. And he could use your perspective as well."

  I didn't believe Mitchell was interested in my perspective. He'd barely let me utter an opinion before his accident. I'd been his gopher, not his assistant director. "Why don't you have Mitchell meet with Natasha then? If he's going to direct, she'll want to talk to him."

  "Natasha actually has some reservations about Mitchell. She knows he's very skilled, but she's not a big fan of him personally. I think she may have had a run-in with him in the past, something about him casting his wife Tara over her. It happened more than a dozen years ago, but she still holds a grudge. She is, however, very intrigued by the work you did on The Opal King. It was her favorite movie in years."

  "That's nice to hear."

  "If you can assure Natasha that you'll be working alongside Mitch, I think it will convince her to come our way. Lunch is tomorrow at noon. Don't drink too much tonight. I want you fresh for the meeting."

  "All right." I tried not to let my unhappiness show. I thought I had earned the directing job for Aces High, a project I'd been working on for months. But Francine still believed Mitchell was better than me. Or maybe it was Curtis and David who were pulling that string. They both pretty much let Francine run the company, but when it came to the big talent, the big money, they always weighed in.

  I personally thought Mitchell was living off his past work. From what I'd seen before he'd gotten hurt on the last film, his best days were behind him, and mine were in front of me. I wished Francine could see how much I'd done for him even before his accident. Or maybe she knew Mitchell had used me as a crutch, but he had a bigger name than me, which meant more money, more support, more interest from everyone. It was a reality I had to live with.

  The limousine finally stopped as we pulled up in front of the hotel. It was showtime.

  As I followed Francine and Kaitlyn out of the limo, I was immediately hit by the hot breeze of a very warm Friday night in mid-September. There was a huge crowd in front of the hotel and probably an even bigger crowd at the rooftop party.

  Before we had taken more than a few steps, David Valenti and Curtis Nolan joined us. I hadn't expected either of them to show up at a party celebrating the thirty-and-under crowd, when they were both in their fifties. On the other hand, they were always happy when our company was getting press, and there was a lot of media here tonight.

  They were both good-looking men. Curtis had dark hair streaked with a touch of silver at the temples and green eyes that had made him irresistible to his three ex-wives, one of whom was Francine. Curtis was part of old Hollywood. His father had been a producer, his mother an actress. As an entertainment lawyer, he had repped some of the biggest names in the business, and several years back, at his ex-wife's urging, he had decided to invest in our company.

  David was Curtis's polar opposite, with sandy-brown hair that had a touch of red in it, pale skin, and brown eyes. He was nowhere near as sophisticated as Curtis, and I'd always found him to be far more approachable. David's father had been a cinematographer, so David had also grown up in the industry, but brought a different perspective. He'd recently married for the first time and had spent most of the past few months on an extended honeymoon in Europe.

  "Emily," David said, giving me a cheerful smile. "You made it. And I don't just mean you got here tonight. You're a big deal."

  "Thanks."

  "We're very happy to have you representing the company," Curtis added. "You've had a hell of a good year."

  "I have. I didn't know either of you were coming tonight."

  "We came to celebrate you," David said. "So, walk the red carpet and talk up the company, will you? We're going to meet you inside."

  "I will."

  "Have fun," Francine added. "Don't worry about networking. You deserve to just have a good time."

  "Thanks." I turned to Kaitlyn. "Do I look okay?"

  "You look perfect, Emily," Kaitlyn said. "And this is all so amazing. You're living your best life right this second. How many people can say that?"

  "I know I'm lucky."

  "Thanks for letting me come tonight."

  "You deserve it. You've been working hard the last few weeks."

  "We'll meet you inside," Francine said, urging me toward the red carpet while she and Kaitlyn headed into the hotel through a different door.

  I squared my shoulders and stepped onto the carpet. A few steps later, I reached the first waiting reporter, an attractive Black woman, who towered over me by a good four inches. She asked a question, then put the microphone in my face. I was so nervous, it was hard to remember her question, something about the honor of the list.

  A voice inside my head told me to get it together, to act like I belonged. If I did that, no one would question me, no one would doubt my accomplishments. That voice belonged to a man named Jimmy, a man who had known how to get exactly what he wanted and had taught me how to do the same. His methods had not always been legal or ethical. But his advice was probably sound.

  "I'm thrilled to be here," I said. My voice sounded weak, so I put some energy into it. Lifting my chin, I looked directly at the reporter. "I'm proud to be in the company of the twenty-nine other amazing individuals being celebrated tonight. I can't wait to meet them."