“Hell yes,” Trish says and grins. “Check them out.”
“Oh, post both those,” Kelly suggests.
For a moment, there’s nothing but an easy happiness, like nostalgia and old times. A row of hot guys in the background at a bar, one of them I’m enjoying the best sex of my life with. Delicious food at an exclusive local restaurant, with damn good company. Not everyone has as good of girlfriends as I do. With secrets that always stay just that—secret.
“I’m still mad at Kam. Not wanting you to post. I miss your daily rants.” Trish’s admission is spoken beneath her breath as she types out the caption on her phone. “Done. Posted.” She nudges Kelly with her teeth sinking into the bottom of her teeth, placing her phone with the screen facing down on the table.
“I bet every comment is going to be about the cherry and Playboy in the background,” Kelly surmises, her gaze pinned to her phone. She barks out a laugh not ten seconds later. “Told you,” she states, pushing the phone in my direction.
She is so fucking him.
Omg that cherry *laughing emoji*
Our girl is back
BangBang is right! We see you ladies!
Check out who showed up in the background.
The comments filterin with tags to gossip columns and celebrity outlets, dozens by the minute. There’s a flip in my chest and anxiousness I hadn’t anticipated.
“Come on,” Kelly says, shifting her weight to the other hip. “This has to make you smile.”
“It does, it does.” I force my tone to be more upbeat. “Just … just wish I could post it too.” I don’t know why I lie. Maybe it isn’t a lie. Ever since the other night, there’s been a churning in the pit of my stomach. Like I sent something into motion.
“You’re the one who pays Kam. If you want to post, post.”
“I agree with Trish. Tell your man over there to get you a phone and just come back. You are back. So … if anyone says shit online, block, block, block, block, block.”
“I get why he doesn’t want me to … Just the thought of being hammered with questions and seeing that video or pics of us …”
“Kam can filter that out. He has his team.”
“I know … I don’t know why he is so damn adamant.”
“I think it’s time you put your foot down.” Kelly’s seriousness takes me aback. “Or I can put my foot down for you.”
Trish has far more compassion, but she doesn’t hide the fact that she has her qualms when it comes to my PR. “Everyone failed you; you paid them, and they failed.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” My comment sobers the mood too much, too quickly. “I do want to keep up with everyone again. It’s just, I feel like I should be careful … maybe. I don’t know. It’s … it all feels different.”
“Look, I didn’t want to say anything but the way they handled James’s passing was shit. That fixer bitch was dumped from Conntelex.”
The temperature of my blood plummets at the mention of that company. They’re the most sought-after company for “fixing” situations, images, for planting rumors even. I know Kam still has them on retainer.
“Cynthia, right? Like literally the day you woke up from … your fall,” Trish says, lowering her voice. I didn’t fall, I jumped, but I keep that correction to myself. They know what happened. She just doesn’t want to say it. “That next morning, she was fired.”
“It wasn’t her fault that I—”
Kelly’s small hand lands on mine. “She handled it poorly. Every step of the way. She was supposed to fix it, and her choice was to ignore it in the hopes it would blow over.”
Trish huffs, shaking her head as she taps her phone against the table.
I fumble with how to express anything at all from what happened that night. “I wasn’t in the best mindset—”
“You shouldn’t have been. You paid people to protect you. And they failed you.”
Kelly adds in a whisper, “Even Kam.” When my eyes reach Kelly, riddled with shock that she’d talk about Trish’s brother like that, she’s quick to add, “It wasn’t his job and I don’t blame him. He was relying on the fixer. What the hell was her name?”