Page 31 of That Fake Feeling
Rose’sface flushes bright pink.
“That’snot fair.Weweren’t fighting at all.Hejust bit my finger,” she says as if that makes everything better.
“Hedidwhat?”Sterlingasks, his face twisted in disbelief.
Myheart goes out toRose.Allshe wants is to do a good job.
“Doesn’tmatter,”Isay, reaching forward and scrolling up the screen. “Theirarticles are usually long.Didn’tthey use any other pics?”
Alittle way down there’s a subheading, “AndItWasAllGoingSoWell,” and two more photos.Thistime, ofRosebending over the picnic basket.
Thefirst one is imaginatively captioned “NiceBuns”and shows me staring directly atRose’sbackside.There’seven a helpful arrow leading from my eyes to her ass in case anyone misses the point.
Theother is of me leaning over her, taking the glasses she’s passing back to me.Myeyes are partially shut, and my nose is close to her head. “SmellsGood!” says the caption.
Andshe did too.Kindof like apples.Andmaybe honey.
“Thosetwo pictures are okay,”Itell them both—even if it is a bit embarrassing thatRosenow knowsIwas secretly checking out her backside and sniffing her hair.
Shelooks at me like this new information means she can’t figure me out.
“They’reburied at the bottom,”Sterlingsays, over-emphasizing each syllable. “Almosteveryone will only look at the huge fighting one at the top.”
“Butwe weren’t fighting,”Rosesays, desperate to clear that up.
Iput my hand on her soft warm arm.
“It’sokay.”Iturn my attention toSterling. “She’sright.It’snot fair.Thebad pictures were isolated incidents that lasted for just a second.They’vebeen taken completely out of context.”
Sterlingsits back down behind the desk and crosses his legs. “Ah, yes, ‘out of context.’Thatgood old line.”
“Seriously,Sterling,”Rosesays. “Wewere really good.”Shepresses her palms together in a prayer position. “Wedid a bunch of cute stuff.Wetook pictures with a turtle.IfedConnorstrawberries.Reallyseductively.AndInapped on his shoulder.Whyaren’t there photos of those things?”
Theshoulder-napping was the most peaceful twenty minutesIcan remember in forever.Whenshe shifted in her sleep and nestled against me, my first instinct was to move out of her way.ButIdidn’t want to wake her.Shedeserved a nap.Andthe longer she lay there, using me as a support, the better it felt.Shelooked so at home, her eyes gently flicking under the lids, her chest rising and falling with her sleepy breath.
Sterlingclears his throat. “Thepoint is that you can’t do anything, for a single second, that could give them a shot that would make things look bad.Ifthey have pictures of cute things and bad things, they’re always going to use the bad things.It’sa much better story.”
Hefolds his arms and shakes his head in frustration. “Whowants to see a photo of you taking pictures with a turtle when they can see one of your face buried in his crotch?Whowants to see seductive strawberry feeding when they can see a grown man towering over a clearly upset woman and yelling at her?”
There’ssilence for a second.
“Noone.”Sterlinganswers his own question. “Noone, that’s who.”
Roselooks like she’s terrified she might be fired any second.
“Canwe get a do-over?”There’sa tremor in her voice. “I’lldo better next time,Ipromise.Iwon’t let either of us slip up.Noteven for a second.”
Sterlingrests his elbows on the arms of the chair, steeples his fingers, and swings from side to side.
“Luckyfor you guys, just this morningIsecured stage two ofOperationConnorRehab.Aninterview and photoshoot for you withAGoodLookmagazine.”
Amixture of anger and dread rises within me.
“Oh, no.Nope.No.”Iturn away from him and clasp my hands behind my head.
There’sonly one wayI’llbe in that publication, and that’s over my dead fucking body.
Ispin back around to face him. “I’mnot going to collaborate with that suck-up of a magazine.It’sposed, and smarmy, and revolting.Theyjust paid a fortune for an exclusive at the birth of some internet star’s baby, for fuck’s sake.”
