Hanna wrinkles her nose. “I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something I don’t like about her.”
“I don’t believe it,” Cally says, shaking her head. “He’s in love with Liz. This just doesn’t add up.”
It’s a small comfort that Cally is suffering from the same delusions I am.
“And what did you think about her, Sam?” Ina asks.
Sam grins at Sabrina and rubs his thumb across her bare shoulder. “I think we spend our lives looking for something special. Us lucky ones find it was right in front of our eyes the whole time. It sounds clichéd, but I can tell you it’s the truth.”
The TV goes black, and I look around the room until I find Nix holding the remote. “No more,” she says. “You look like someone’s killing your puppy right in front of you, and I won’t watch you torture yourself like that. As your doctor, I forbid it.”
I don’t argue. I’m too spent. A couple of minutes of interview were more than I could stand. “You guys, thanks for coming, but I think I just need to be alone right now.”
“No,” Krystal says. “Absolutely not. I’ve been here before. What you need is to go out and have fun with your friends. Drinks and dancing, and then maybe a make-out session with a random guy—but don’t go home with him. That will just make you feel bad about yourself in the morning.”
Maggie arches a brow. “You don’t say.”
Krystal shrugs. “Like I say, I speak from experience. We’re here and we can help. Let us. Where’s your favorite place to drink?”
“Brady’s,” Hanna answers for me. “And since we know there’s no danger of running into Sam, I think that’s exactly where we should go.”
* * *
Sam
“What the fuck was that?”
Across from us in the limo, Erin crosses her long legs and smirks. “That was entertainment. That was getting America’s attention off that video and onto something that won’t screw up our lives, something everyone loves—a wedding. With minimal help from our social media team, the Sambrina hashtag was trending on Twitter before the interview was even over.”
“Sambrina? Jesus. I didn’t agree to be her fiancé.”
“You aren’t,” Sabrina says. She crosses her legs and arms and looks out the window. Her body language is the opposite of what it was in the studio. Closed instead of open. Cold instead of warm. “Do you think I’d want to marry you after seeing that video? I’d like to think I can do better than my mom’s sloppy seconds, thank you very much.”
“Enough,” Erin says. “The interview was great, and we’re turning a political nightmare into a win. We’ll see what the pollsters come back with tomorrow, but I would bet we’ll be trending upward in no time. Let’s focus on that.”
“I’m sorry,” Sabrina says, dropping her gaze to her lap. “You’re right, Erin, and I’m sorry.”
Maybe she’s right about the campaign, but this isn’t just about the campaign anymore. Now it’s about my life. Now it’s about Liz believing I’m engaged to another woman. The idea of her watching the interview cuts into me, and there’s nothing I want more than to fix the whole mess.
“You’re going to have to do this without me,” I say, holding up my hands. “I agreed to one interview and you fucked me over.”
Erin cocks her head and studies me for a beat, then she draws a manila folder from her briefcase and tosses it on my lap. “Is that really what you think?”
I open the envelope and my stomach drops. A picture of Asia’s little girl is paper-clipped to the top of a stack of papers. “What? How?”
“We do our research,” Erin says. “Go ahead and look through it. You’ll find a DNA test confirming that you’re her father.”
I flip through the pages. “How did you . . .”
“Connor told us,” Sabrina says.
“What hasn’t he told you?”
She shrugs. “He was worried it might come up when the sex tape broke. He used to be an intern for my mother, and he still gives us information when he thinks it’s relevant.”
“Don’t underestimate my connections, Sam,” Erin says. “I’m good at what I do because I’m thorough. I get things done.”
I swallow. I don’t know how they got my DNA for the test, or the child’s. I’m not sure I want to know.
“Erin likes to sound big and bad,” Sabrina says. “But what she’s trying to say is that this is for you too. You want to meet your daughter, don’t you? Maybe have some visitation rights someday?”
I shake my head. “No court would—”
“No, the court wouldn’t,” Erin says. “Especially after that unsavory tape. But we have connections to the girl’s family. If you make nice and plan a wedding to Sabrina, we’ll use those connections so you can meet your daughter.”
I can’t take my eyes off the picture and those big brown eyes staring back at me.
“Her name’s Lilly,” Sabrina says softly. “She looks like a Lilly, doesn’t she?”
“Help us paint the picture of a man in love, Sam,” Erin says. “Make it easy for the family to let Lilly meet her daddy.”
I lift my eyes to meet Sabrina’s. She gives a soft smile. “We’ll be America’s sweethearts. I’m not saying it will be easy, but if you do this for us, we’ll do that for you. It’s the least we can do.”
“I don’t believe it,” Cally says, shaking her head. “He’s in love with Liz. This just doesn’t add up.”
It’s a small comfort that Cally is suffering from the same delusions I am.
“And what did you think about her, Sam?” Ina asks.
Sam grins at Sabrina and rubs his thumb across her bare shoulder. “I think we spend our lives looking for something special. Us lucky ones find it was right in front of our eyes the whole time. It sounds clichéd, but I can tell you it’s the truth.”
The TV goes black, and I look around the room until I find Nix holding the remote. “No more,” she says. “You look like someone’s killing your puppy right in front of you, and I won’t watch you torture yourself like that. As your doctor, I forbid it.”
I don’t argue. I’m too spent. A couple of minutes of interview were more than I could stand. “You guys, thanks for coming, but I think I just need to be alone right now.”
“No,” Krystal says. “Absolutely not. I’ve been here before. What you need is to go out and have fun with your friends. Drinks and dancing, and then maybe a make-out session with a random guy—but don’t go home with him. That will just make you feel bad about yourself in the morning.”
Maggie arches a brow. “You don’t say.”
Krystal shrugs. “Like I say, I speak from experience. We’re here and we can help. Let us. Where’s your favorite place to drink?”
“Brady’s,” Hanna answers for me. “And since we know there’s no danger of running into Sam, I think that’s exactly where we should go.”
* * *
Sam
“What the fuck was that?”
Across from us in the limo, Erin crosses her long legs and smirks. “That was entertainment. That was getting America’s attention off that video and onto something that won’t screw up our lives, something everyone loves—a wedding. With minimal help from our social media team, the Sambrina hashtag was trending on Twitter before the interview was even over.”
“Sambrina? Jesus. I didn’t agree to be her fiancé.”
“You aren’t,” Sabrina says. She crosses her legs and arms and looks out the window. Her body language is the opposite of what it was in the studio. Closed instead of open. Cold instead of warm. “Do you think I’d want to marry you after seeing that video? I’d like to think I can do better than my mom’s sloppy seconds, thank you very much.”
“Enough,” Erin says. “The interview was great, and we’re turning a political nightmare into a win. We’ll see what the pollsters come back with tomorrow, but I would bet we’ll be trending upward in no time. Let’s focus on that.”
“I’m sorry,” Sabrina says, dropping her gaze to her lap. “You’re right, Erin, and I’m sorry.”
Maybe she’s right about the campaign, but this isn’t just about the campaign anymore. Now it’s about my life. Now it’s about Liz believing I’m engaged to another woman. The idea of her watching the interview cuts into me, and there’s nothing I want more than to fix the whole mess.
“You’re going to have to do this without me,” I say, holding up my hands. “I agreed to one interview and you fucked me over.”
Erin cocks her head and studies me for a beat, then she draws a manila folder from her briefcase and tosses it on my lap. “Is that really what you think?”
I open the envelope and my stomach drops. A picture of Asia’s little girl is paper-clipped to the top of a stack of papers. “What? How?”
“We do our research,” Erin says. “Go ahead and look through it. You’ll find a DNA test confirming that you’re her father.”
I flip through the pages. “How did you . . .”
“Connor told us,” Sabrina says.
“What hasn’t he told you?”
She shrugs. “He was worried it might come up when the sex tape broke. He used to be an intern for my mother, and he still gives us information when he thinks it’s relevant.”
“Don’t underestimate my connections, Sam,” Erin says. “I’m good at what I do because I’m thorough. I get things done.”
I swallow. I don’t know how they got my DNA for the test, or the child’s. I’m not sure I want to know.
“Erin likes to sound big and bad,” Sabrina says. “But what she’s trying to say is that this is for you too. You want to meet your daughter, don’t you? Maybe have some visitation rights someday?”
I shake my head. “No court would—”
“No, the court wouldn’t,” Erin says. “Especially after that unsavory tape. But we have connections to the girl’s family. If you make nice and plan a wedding to Sabrina, we’ll use those connections so you can meet your daughter.”
I can’t take my eyes off the picture and those big brown eyes staring back at me.
“Her name’s Lilly,” Sabrina says softly. “She looks like a Lilly, doesn’t she?”
“Help us paint the picture of a man in love, Sam,” Erin says. “Make it easy for the family to let Lilly meet her daddy.”
I lift my eyes to meet Sabrina’s. She gives a soft smile. “We’ll be America’s sweethearts. I’m not saying it will be easy, but if you do this for us, we’ll do that for you. It’s the least we can do.”
