Page 95 of Mic Drop

“No!” Lissa leaps to her feet. “That’s not true.”

Gotta hand it to Lissa. She’s not going down easy.

Curtiss looks up at her, something approaching pity in his eyes. “Itistrue. My mother—sentimental soul that she is—preserved the pregnancy test you brought to the house when you found out you were pregnant. After you miscarried, due to, I believe, taking diet pills because you didn’t want to get ‘fat,’ she never gave us this keepsake. You not only lost your baby, Lissa, you lost her first grandchild.”

Lissa lowers herself to the chair.

When she doesn’t reply, Francis states, “I think you owe Bennett Hardy an apology.”

Wild-eyed, Lissa looks around the studio as if expecting Bennett to walk onto the stage. He doesn’t.

Curtiss chuckles. “He’s not here. Why would he be? He’s the lead singer of Untamed Coaster, flying well above your petty drama.”

Cornered, with nowhere to run, Lissa lashes out. “None of my fans would believe I was with you. Not after being withhim.”

Curtiss looks between the two hosts. Logan says, “In addition to your notes, Curtiss also provided us with some photos of you two from back in the day. Take a look.”

Sure enough, pictures of them appear. They show Lissa as a late teenager with slightly different features than she has now and a younger, more fit Curtiss, many with him holding a tennis racket. They made a striking couple.

Logan doesn’t wait for her to respond, simply barrels forward. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ve recently gotten to know a Thaine Jasper online. We’ve seen several interactions between you two on social media.” Screenshots of their comments are posted.

Oh my God. My hand flies in front of my face. Are they going to link her to Michelle too?

“So? Is meeting people online now a crime too?” Lissa hisses.

“Only when you conspire with them,” Francis alleges. “Newspaper reports out in the Hamptons have surfaced that you and Michelle Kent communicated online using this fake avatar to slander Bennett’s wife. Do you deny this?”

Go Thaine!My mind barely keeps up with this fire hose of news.

“What? Who?” Lissa shrieks.

Court comes into the break room. “There you are. The construction manager for your next clinic wants to meet with you at the building. Can I tell him you’ll be there in an hour?”

I shush my bestie and point to the screen. On it, Logan says, “We’ve done some digging and have obtained your DMs.”

“No way!” Lissa sputters. “That’s illegal!”

Court doesn’t say a word, simply sinks into a chair next to me.

Francis is in the middle of saying, “...not when they’re willingly turned over by one of the parties. Ms. Kent shared them with us.” The host turns into the camera. “And we turned them over to theproper authorities. Seems like you two attacked Jenna Westfield Hardy’s business as a way to run her out of Bennett’s life. We spoke with Ms. Kent, and she said it was all your idea to call Mrs. Hardy’s physical therapy clinics a front for a prostitution ring.”

They got them!Although Michelle’s trying to pin it all on Lissa. Whatever. They can duke it out between themselves. On-screen, Lissa’s head looks as if it wants to explode.

“It was her idea! I didn’t care about that mousy thing on his arm.” She motions toward her body and throws her head backward. “Not when he could have this!”

Logan doesn’t hesitate. “So you confirm that you and Ms. Kent were behind the prostitution ring allegation?”

“I only wanted to get Bennett’s attention. Michelle’s aim was to run that worthless Jenna out of town. You would’ve thought having Darren was enough for her, but no. After he died, Jenna moved on to Bennett.MyBennett.”

The cameras cut to the talking heads, while my heart races uncontrollably. Francis looks at Logan, wearing the same stupefied expression as Court. “Well, you heard it here first, folks. Ms. Baker wasn’t pregnant with Bennett Hardy’s baby. Plus, she and Ms. Kent conspired against Mrs. Hardy’s business in order to ruin her professional life and gain Mr. Hardy’s attention.”

“It’s over.” Court stands. “It’s all over.”

My breath hitches. “I can’t believe it. How did Curtiss orchestrate this?”

“Girlie, if you believe he was behind this takedown, I got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you.” She turns off the television and sits next to me. “It had Bennett written all over it.”

“Bennett.” My husband’s name falls from my lips, then my head shakes from side to side. “No. No way. Hayden, maybe.”

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