“Really?” I ask, surprised.
Rigo chuckles. “Yes.”
“Wait.” I glance at Lo on the tablet. “Uh, for transparency, my boyfriend is here. Kind of. I needed his support while I told you so I have him on video. Just so you know.”
“Thank you,” Rigo says. “Though I’m never going to say something that would break anyone’s confidentiality. Nor yours. But yes, I have more than you might think. I understand.”
I sigh. “Thanks. So… I mean what I said when I say there are literally two people who know I’m gay. You and my boyfriend. That’s it. Not my parents, not my brother, not my friends. No one. I’m telling you this because… would it make a difference if I came out publicly? Would it slow this chick down or cause more damage?”
“No,” Rigo insists. “You’re not doing this.”
I glance at Lo. He’s watching me with his eyebrows raised. “I’m not?” I ask.
“No. If you want to come out for any reason other than you want to or you’re ready to make it public for yourself, then I won’t support it. I will not let you come out for any other reason, Caulder. Not even to shut this girl up.”
Lo grins, nodding.
I sigh. “I just want?—”
“It will happen,” Rigo promises. “Patience.”
Lo clears his throat and I look toward him. He holds up his phone and I can see he still has the picture that I sent him up.
“Hold on a second, Rigo.”
“Sure.”
“How tall are you?” Lo asks.
I raise an eyebrow, unsure why this was worth interrupting for. “Six-one. Why?”
He smiles. “This guy in the photo is probably five-ten at the very most, though I’d guess he’s shorter than that. Look at the people around him. The girl he’s dancing with. He’s only barely taller than her. And compared to those around them, she’s probably average height for a female—five and a half feet, right?”
“Rigo did you hear that?” I ask. “Also, I don’t own anything that looks like that shirt. I hate red. I don’t even own red underwear!”
Rigo chuckles. “We can leave your wardrobe out of this, but the height difference is definitely worth noting. Good catch.”
Lo smiles.“I know my man,”he mouths. My skin flushes again.
“This will help, right?” I ask.
“It will.”
“When will there be a statement put out? This silence from anyone that fucking matters is really getting to me.”
“Soon. We’ve been hoping to nip this in the bud with solid, definitive proof right out of the gate—video confirmation that you never left the hotel and/or never entered the club, apaternity test—but it’s slower to come by than we’d like simply because of the amount of time that’s passed.”
“I think something needs to be said,” I push. “I’m not even on social media, but I can see it in my teammate’s eyes. How much they’re trying extra hard to protect me. It’s sweet, but it’s stressing me out.”
“How do you feel about an interview?” Rigo asks. “A single, exclusive phone interview. We approve the questions ahead of time and you only answer the questions that have been preapproved. We’ll also talk about your answers ahead of time, to make sure you’re not saying anything that can be interpreted any other way than what you say.”
“Yes,” I agree. “Fine. Let’s do that.”
“Okay, good. I have a couple journalists in mind, so let me get in touch and I’ll keep you posted. Alexandra hopes to have the court-ordered paternity test paperwork drafted and moving through the legal system by the end of the week. We’ll also keep you posted.”
Alexandra Hale is my new attorney. She’s some bigwig woman at Van Doren Law that I’m quite intimidated to speak to, though she sounds perfectly lovely. Kind, soft spoken, even personable. Still, Van Doren Law! Gives me the chills. I didn’t even ask how Rigo knows someone there.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Lo says, “but please tell me you’ll be suing her for defamation and shit.”
