"That won’t happen," he promises. "Photos, yes. You can’t avoid that. And I have no power over what happens with those pictures. But no interviews, I made myself very clear in that regard."
"Good," I say.
"So, we’re good? You’re coming?"
"Yes, for God’s sake."
"It starts at eight, and—"
"I know the details," I interrupt him brusquely. "Don’t treat me like a child."
"Well, don’t act like a child. That’ll make things easier for the both of us."
"Goodbye, Roy."
I hang up before hearing his reply. These things are so bothersome, but I know that Roy has a point about showing my face. I don’t want to, but it’s necessary.
I glance at my phone again, wondering whether I should send Nicky a reply. I decide against it. After her little teenage stunt, she can wait for a few hours.
Besides, I have work to do. Weekend or not, there are things that need to be dealt with and they’ll keep me busy until evening. I’ll have a better grasp of my upcoming schedule by then, too, because contrary to what I just told Roy, I’m not one hundred percent sure of details pertaining to that event, or what other appointments I might be forgetting about.
I’ve never been good at keeping up with these things, and especially not now when my mind is derailed by a mesmerizing distraction named Nicky.