Page 56 of Dallas
I lean into him and hug him tightly. He’s right. I’m feeling luckier than I have in ten years, even though the parking lot is filled with the media and the entire town. No matter what happens, I will come out a winner.
We both flinch when we hear a megaphone. I recognize the voice. “It’s Sheriff Johnston,” I tell Dallas.
“That’s good.”
His disembodied voice echoes loudly outside as it bounces off the surrounding buildings. “You are not welcome in this town. Get in your vans and go back to wherever you came from.”
Someone knocks on the door.
I turn at the same time as Dallas to see Brody at the door.
Dallas releases me to open it and let him in.
Brody grins at me. “Hey, squirt. How’s your day going?”
I roll my eyes. Brody is a comic.
He points over his shoulder. “Friends of yours?”
Dallas chuckles. “Hardly. Do you think the sheriff can get rid of them?”
“Eventually. It’s going to take him some time, though. They aren’t technically breaking any laws. The library is public property.”
I sigh. “That sucks. Are people in town angry?”
Brody shakes his head. “Nope. They’re trying to push the press out with intimidation. They don’t even know why the media is here, but they’re supporting you.”
This is a shock. I never expected this kind of support. I’m nobody. I’m not even from Wilde. I moved here two years ago. Why would they support me?
“Ryder is out there trying to reason with them,” Brody continues.
I rub my temples. “I’m going to have to make a statement.”
Dallas turns toward me. “No, baby. You don’t owe them anything.”
“I know, but maybe they would go away if I explain. Plus, the people from town would all hear me at the same time.”
Dallas’s brow furrows.
Brody joins us. “It’s not a bad idea. We don’t have to rush. We could prepare a statement. Lord knows they aren’t going anywhere fast.”
I glance out the windows. The crowd is growing. So is its volume. Townsfolk are shouting at the press, but the newspeople are not budging. I face Dallas and Brody. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 21
Dallas
* * *
I’m so proud of my girl. There are no words. I’m choked up as she boldly walks out the front door to face the press mob. I stand by her side, but I don’t touch her. She needs to handle this on her own. She’s made that clear.
This is the same woman who greeted me less than two weeks ago wearing fake horn-rimmed glasses, a polyester skirt, and pantyhose. She looks nothing like that today. She’s wearing jeans and a fitted white T-shirt that hugs her breasts and looks fantastic on her.
Brody carries a folding chair outside and opens it for Arianna to stand on. I hold her hand to help her up but release her as soon as she’s in place. I stay close behind her in case she loses her balance, but I won’t intervene unless I need to.
When we were inside, she wrote down several talking points but, in the end, informed us she could do this without notes.
The three interviewers rush toward her, holding out mics. They all shout questions on top of each other. It’s madness. The press can be relentless. If I were the one making this speech, I would have told them all to go fuck themselves and driven away, but I’m not living in Arianna’s shoes. She has the right to make this decision on her own.
