Damien starts the conference, giving the press an overview of the foundation and a bit about the work they do. Then he introduces Lyle, who also gives a brief presentation as he runs through a slide show of images of various kids the SCF has helped.
Both men keep it short, presumably because the real point is to open it up for press questions. And as soon as Lyle does that, Gordy's voice booms out, filling the lobby.
"Mr. Tarpin," he says, "it's come to my attention that your engagement to Sugar Laine is a sham, orchestrated to hide the fact that Ms. Laine was only one in a long string of women with whom you paid to have sex. Can you comment on how, with a background like that, you're even remotely qualified to act as a sponsor for a children's organization?"
26
My hand aches, and I realize that I've reached out and am clutching Nikki's hand so hard I've probably cut off her circulation.
I turn to her, about to tell her I'm sorry, but all she does is shake her head. I see the pain in her eyes, and I realize that it's not because of what Lyle and I have done, but because of the way it was revealed.
"You'll survive this," she says, as I struggle to breathe. "Just tell yourself that you'll survive, and I promise you will."
I nod, feeling raw and violated. As if the fabric of the world has been ripped out from under me. My private choices--my personal secrets--tossed out to the media like so much birdseed, and now my whole body goes cold as the feeding frenzy begins.
People turn my direction to gawk. To pull out camera phones. To yell comments and questions.
They care nothing of my pain. Of my reasons. Of the why behind my choices.
And they damn sure don't care where those choices led--to a love so deep that the pain I now see on Lyle's face cuts me even more deeply that the thrust of that reporter's verbal knife.
I need to get to him. To touch him.
I need to feel our connection.
But I can't reach him through the writhing sea of bodies, and he can't break free of the security team that has taken him by the arms and is leading him off the platform, even while his eyes search the crowd looking, I'm sure, for me.
Nikki takes charge, pushing me around the podium toward another man in one of the black T-shirts that indicates he's part of the Stark security team. He flanks us, his companion closing the gap behind us and clearing the way until we reach a hallway and then, finally, a private office in the back.
I burst through the door, and Lyle pulls me against him. "I'm sorry," he says, looking as shattered as I feel. "I'm so damn sorry."
"It's worse," Damien says, from where he's leaning against the desk, looking at his phone. "He timed the question with photos going live on his site."
"Shit," Lyle says, as Damien passes him the phone. There are pictures of four women, including me, going into different hotel rooms. Innocuous enough until you read the copy, which makes clear that an anonymous tip told Gordy that the clean-cut Lyle Tarpin hired call girls, and Gordy decided to make it his mission to expose that dastardly deed.
"I don't understand," I say, as Lyle stiffens beside me. "How could he know about us? For that matter, how could he know about the others?"
"Rip."
He says the name like a curse, underscored by a blood red rage.
"How?" I ask.
"We used to be close," he says, running his fingers through his hair. "And when he started having problems with drugs, I tried to talk to him. To help him through it. I told him things I shouldn't have--I never thought he'd turn on me."
"Jealousy can mess a man up," Damien says, and Lyle looks at him, then nods slowly, his face awash with rage.
"Can you find him? Your security people? Can they track down his address?"
"Lyle," I say. "No."
"He had no right--the bastard just shredded both of our lives in front of the whole goddamned world. You damn well better believe I'm confronting him."
"For what?" I press. "For being an asshole? He told the truth, Lyle. I knew from the first day when I agreed to go to your hotel that this could happen. I wish it hadn't, but it did. And you can't beat him up or arrest him or sue him for spilling the truth. It's not worth it."
He turns away, pushing out of our embrace so he can pace the office. "Guess he's the golden boy now, huh? He sure as hell messed me up, didn't he? I'm going to need to resign, aren't I?" he asks Damien.
"If it were up to me, no," Damien says. "I'd want you to tell the world the full truth about why you make such an excellent advocate for these kids, but with that caveat, I'd want you to stay.