Page 96 of Extended Bridge

The male host, Logan, challenges, “Prove it. Let’s hear you sing some lines from ‘Upside Down.’”

Bennett’s face contorts in disgust. While not a fan of what he’s doing, I understand my man’s need to clear the air. I grab his forearm and whisper, “How can they take any old caller at his word? They need proof.” His face relaxes.

Into the phone, he says, “Only because you can’t see me.” Then he sings a few bars of UC’s first number one hit. Someone in the restaurant adjusts the televisions so the show is playing over all of them. The volume is turned up.

Logan plays with his suit jacket. “Well, I can safely say that I’m a believer. It’s a pleasure to have Bennett Hardy on the line.”

His co-host gushes, “How can we get this hotter-than-any-other, uhm, singer, to come into our studio?”

My eyes roll. I want to grab the phone and tell her he’s much more than window dressing. However, given the circumstances, I remain silent.

Ever the consummate professional, Bennett doesn’t take the bait. “I’m calling in to rebut what yourguesttold the public. Everything she’s said—with the exception of our dating in high school—is a lie.”

His bombshell rings throughout the studio. And the restaurant, given how all the diners have stopped eating and are watching this train wreck.

Lissa’s blue eyes fill with more fake tears. “We meant the world to each other in high school. You never stopped telling me you loved me.” Fat crocodile tears roll down her cheeks. The only thing fat on her body.

“For fuck’s sake, we were seventeen years old, Lissa. A lifetime ago.”

I hope the show is on delay, otherwise the censors will be having a field day.

Lissa places her hand over her ample chest. “We meant the world to each other. You gave me the best gift of a new life.” She bends forward and sobs, her arms stealing around her waist.

“Then it must have been immaculate conception, because we never had sex.”

Bennett’s truth echoes throughout the restaurant and the television studio. But it doesn’t stop the show. His childhood girlfriend now sports black mascara running down her cheeks. “How can you say that, baby?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

The hairs on my arms raise at his tone. If he was in the same room as her, I would fear he might not stop himself from strangling her.

Francis consoles Lissa, passing her a box of tissues. Speaking directly to the camera, the host says, “Lots of teenagers get pregnant.”

“Only if they have sex. Which. We. Did. Not.”

Lissa waves a tissue in the air. Not in surrender, more like encouraging the hosts to continue her defense.

Logan’s head swivels between his guests and the camera. “What happened to the child, Lissa?”

She hiccups. “Bennett ran off to join the band and refused to pick up my calls. I was so young, I knew I couldn’t tell my parents.” She raises the tissue to her nose. “I turned to his best friend, Curtiss, for help in reaching Bennett, but nothing worked.” She blows her nose.

“For fuck’s sake.” At least Bennett said this for the benefit of the diners, and not into his phone.

Wary at how her story is going to conclude, I touch his chest.

Lissa lifts her head and pronounces. “I had a miscarriage.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The murmurs among the restaurant patrons rise. On camera, the hosts look at each other, their mouths gaping.

Next to me, Bennett growls. He doesn’t form words, just paces around the restaurant. Other patrons’ heads swivel to follow him.

I need to do something to help. Without thinking, I grab the phone from his hand. “You’re a liar. You never were pregnant with his baby.”

Francis blinks. “Who’s this?”

“Jenna Westfield.” Crap.What have I done?Have I made this even worse for Bennett?

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