SABRINA
The bad press was getting worse for both me and Cal. Paul clicked through various tabs on his computer, tsk-tsking and shaking his head. I had read a few. Most of the articles about Cal were much of the same—slamming his company and the app and throwing shade on what had happened in Peru—all designed to discredit him.
The articles that included me were about my dad and speculation about the life of a professional gambler. They tried to make it look terrible by saying we moved a lot, and I had grown up in casinos—which wasn’t a lie. After Mom died, we had moved a lot, and I had spent a lot of time in casinos, but I’d also learned to ride horses and had become a strong swimmer. When I was old enough, I worked at some of the casino hotels as a lifeguard. I also graduated from high school with excellent grades, but of course, that wasn’t mentioned at all.
The beta test of the app was slogging along. There had been an initial mass sign-up in the low hundreds, not in the thousands like Cal had expected. But the sign-ups had slowed. Cricket’s article about our date and using the app had gotten buried under my adoption story.
The reporter from the press conference who had irritated me with his innuendos was Jonathon Smith. He had dug up some college classmates who’d verified that yes, Cal and I had dated, but we’d broken up and instantly dropped out of each other’s lives. The questions regarding our breakup were paired with creative sentences that hinted at an ugly undercurrent of abuse and cheating. It didn’t matter that the reporter left the assumptions open for the reader to make. And his attack on my father was just as ugly. Accusations of card counting, underreporting winnings, colluding with dealers to fix games, and even using technology to spy. The last one was laughable. Dad was the least techy person I knew. He’d never upgraded from a flip phone and, up until his death, still handwrote letters and used snail mail. What bothered me the most was that Dad wasn’t able to defend his reputation, and I knew that even if all this was retracted by the paper, some people out there would believe it regardless. That alone made me want to weep with regret. This was happening because of me.
I found a silver lining in the fact that Dad wasn’t here to see it. I’d been raised to believe justice would prevail, and that same belief was applied to truth. The truth would come out. I had nothing to fear there.
Cricket sat across from me and chewed the end of a ballpoint pen. She was waiting for an answer. The question was, how did I want to respond?
“I’m just not sure,” I told Cricket. I’d been asking myself that same question for the last sixteen hours. I’d only slept out of sheer exhaustion. I picked up a paperclip off Cal’s desk and started to unwind it. “I’m too close to this, too emotional. I need distance.”
“How do you get that? Because the sooner we respond, the better.”
Paul agreed from across the room. He was reading articles and scribbling notes. At least he had ideas on how to respond to the articles about Cal.
“Usually, I go for a ride or a drive, but the weather…” I pointed to the window, which showed dark clouds and a steady rain. “Let’s talk about something else. Maybe if I distract myself that way…”
“I went on my first date—you know, the one I got by using the app.”
I threw up my hands in frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me? How was it? What was he like? Will you do another?”
She laughed. “I didn’t tell you because you have been having a rough few days. But Paul, Cal, and I did a short interview about it, and it’s getting good traction on Instagram. I had a nice time, and I’m thinking about a second date. He’s already asked.”
Encouraged, I turned to Paul. “I don’t think you need me for this app.” Cricket had found success, even if it was just one date, without my intervention.
“Actually, that guide you created on how to build a profile was great,” Cricket said. “I built it, then read the guide and completely changed it based on what you said. I would have never thought about putting some of those keywords in my profile. I think that’s why this match was really good.”
“Now, if we can get some good press on it, that would be great.” Paul sighed.
Cricket slapped her hand on the desk. “I have the best idea!”
She had our attention.
“Okay, Sabrina needs to do something physical to work out her thoughts,” Cricket continued. “Cal needs to be out there doing his job, and you two need to be seen together. Plus, there’s the app work. It’s Saturday, and people are stuck inside. Why not host an impromptu self-defense class at the community center this afternoon? We have a fair number of single women and older women who can attend. We can get students, shop owners, and whoever. We can even set up a babysitting program for those with no childcare.”
Paul stood and gaped at Cricket. “Can you pull this off?” He looked at his watch. “And get people there, say, by three? Enough people, Cricket, not ten. We need numbers.”
She nodded. “Yes, because we need something like this in this community. We’re not free from the ills of society just because we’re a small town. I bet I can even get people from Bison’s Prairie to come over.”
“I actually love the idea. Cal needs to get back to doing what he loves. This in-between is eating at him,” I said. Paul was nodding.
Cricket picked up her phone and did a quick text. When she finished, she smiled up at them. “We should have an answer in less than five minutes.”
I was about to ask who she’d texted when her phone chimed. She glanced at it, then beamed up at me and Paul.
“Fort just gave the thumbs-up. He said he will call Cody, who manages the community center, and get it set up.”
“Fort?” Paul asked.
“The sheriff,” I said with a smile. “Cricket, you are a genius.” I leaned across the table, clasped my friend’s face between my hands, and kissed her on the forehead. “An absolute genius. I love this idea. What do you need me to do?”
“I’m going to prep Cal.” Paul hurried from the room.
I waited for Cricket to tell me what to do.