The man held up his phone, as if I could see what was playing from this distance. “It’s a video going around the internet,” he said. “Two women at Disney World dressed as Belle and Mrs. Potts fromBeauty and the Beast. They’re running, and then some kid tackles them into a fountain right in front of Cinderella’s castle. Someone set it to a dubstep track. It’s hilarious. And it’s you! You look exactly like Belle. The whole internet’s calling you Princess Fountain Oops, don’t you know?”
Apparently, my decision to avoid checking Twitter so I couldn’t see what they were saying about Dakota had been a grave miscalculation.
“My God, she’s Sad CrawlerandFountain Oops,” someone else yelled. “What are the odds?”
What were the odds, indeed?Oh, this was not good. I’d gone viral—not once, but twice—just as I’d warned Mac all those months ago, when we were fleeing across the Magic Kingdom. A warning she’d scoffed at, might I add. But not even my epicI told you sowas going to take the edge off this humiliation. This was a serious blow to my credibility. My two worlds were meeting, and it was as bad as I’d feared.
I looked through the reporters and found Ben’s face. Strangely, he was grinning, as if we both weren’t watching my career dissolve before our eyes. He gave me a thumbs-up, then mouthed,You got this.
Okay. Right. I could bounce back. I could lean into this because a little notoriety never hurt anyone. I squared my shoulders.
“You are correct,” I said to the crowd. “I am both Sad Crawler and Princess Fountain Oops. However, today I am here in my professional capacity to talk to you about a very serious matter involving Austin’s political and business communities.”
To my great relief, the reporters quieted.
I glanced at Dakota. She nodded encouragingly. Ever supportive. Ever kind.
I knew what I was supposed to say. I was supposed to talk a little more about her career, then describe the accusations against her. Then I was supposed to hand over the mic and let her implode everything she’d worked her whole life to build. Over the fact that she was a cheater. To be honest, this was the kind of severe public humiliation I used to fantasize about punishing my father with when I was younger. When I felt the most hurt, I would imagine something just like this, where he had to own up to his crimes in front of a million judging eyes. Since that fantasy was obviously impossible, I’d punished him the only way I knew how, by taking myself away. And look where that kind of thinking had gotten me in the end.
No—this was wrong. My instincts were telling me not to say what I’d prepared. My heart was urging me to say something else entirely, something Dakota wouldn’t like, something she’d probably fire me for.
But Dakota was announcing her resignation in mere minutes. So—right. There was that.
I looked once more at Ben and decided: I would trust myself.
I cleared my throat, and the reporters leaned in. “Dakota Young is the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. Not woman. Not woman under forty. Person. Period. She invented the world’s best electric vehicle, and then she raised the bar with the Herschel motor. Which we weresupposedto unveil at a press conference a few weeks from now, except we’re having this one instead. Dakota is a tireless champion for the environment, for animals’ rights, for her employees and especially for other women. She has been a champion of mine since the day I met her.”
The reporters were getting comfortable listening to me list Dakota’s virtues. I would change that soon enough.
“Yet for years, you have ignored her. Oh, you paid attention when we pointed out your sexism in shining a light on Elon Musk instead of her. But otherwise, you don’t care. You didn’t want to hear about the threat of climate change or the Green Machine bill Dakota and the governor were working on together. The bill that, if passed, would save our sorry, gas-guzzling asses for a few more years. Oh, no. Too boring.”
A murmuring started in the crowd. I could feel Dakota step closer out of alarm. But I gripped the podium and leaned closer over the mic.
“But now you catch wind that this accomplished woman has made one mistake—not with her business, mind you, or in the actual course of trying to lobby for the bill, but in her personal life. And you are like sharks circling in chummed water. Did you question the source of the leak? Did you happen to wonder if there was a reason Samuel Slittery—CEO of a company that would do anything to see the Green Machine killed—was offering himself up as your star interviewee? No. You were so hungry to run your headlines about Dakota the succubus, seducing the governor, that you ignored the bigger picture. What sexist bloodlust.”
“Lee,”Dakota hissed. But I ignored her. I had already jumped over the edge of this cliff, and now there was nothing left to do but get where I was going.
“You ignore the fact that you’ve created an impossible environment for women in power. If you honestly assessed yourselves, I think you’d find you are part of the problem. You let men get off scot-free. You let them make mistake after mistake, and you excuse it by saying,Oh, yes, he’s a flawed person, but it’s the work that matters. Where’s the takedown of Grover Mane? Where are the questions about his fitness to lead? Dakota was planning on offering her head on a platter to save her company today because that’s what you demand of women for one misstep. But I say no.”
I looked through the shocked faces to find Ben’s again. He didn’t look horrified, or even surprised, like I’d expected. Instead, he looked thoughtful, his eyes cast far away, like he was imagining something. I didn’t know how to read the expression, so I decided to keep going.
“Dakota made a mistake. Yes, she stepped outside her marriage. So what? Even if you think that’s not right, men have been juggling debauchery and day jobs for years. Think of nearly every politician you know. Hell, think of all those politicians in the movies.Eyes Wide Shut, for example. Everyone thought it was totally believable that all those men in Venetian masks could go to orgies by night and be powerful politicians by day. Why shouldn’t a woman have that same luxury?”
Okay. The reporters were frowning in confusion. Maybe I had gone a little sideways. “To be clear, I’m not saying anyoneshouldbe in anEyes Wide Shutsex club situation. I’m just saying no one questioned those men’s time management skills.”
Yikes.Wrap it up, Stoner.
“Who among us is perfect?” I demanded. “Serious question. Who among us hasn’t made a mistake? You know some of mine already. I ran from children at Disney World because they scare me, and landed in a fountain. I signed up for a half-marathon I had no business running. But there’s so much more. Once, I accidentally hit a pigeon with my car and it exploded in a puff of feathers. I tried to go out and put it back together, and when I couldn’t, I gave it a funeral that was really subpar. I once babysat my friend’s four-year-old and accidentally packed my medically prescribed marijuana in his lunch bag. Don’t worry. I got it back in time. And you know what else? I’ve cheated, too. Five years ago, I cheated on the man I loved because I wanted to leave him before he left me. How silly is that?”
Crickets. The reporters were looking up at me like I’d just told them—well, all the things I’d told them. In desperation, I combed the crowd until I spotted the reporter who’d shown me the Princess Fountain Oops video. “You, sir—come on. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”
The man’s neck twisted as he eyed the TV cameras. But then he seemed to decide something, and his chest swelled. “I cheated on my first wife,” he called. “It wasn’t a good relationship, but now I’m in a loving second marriage.”
“See?” I said. “Good for you!”
“One-way streets confuse me,” someone else shouted. “I can never drive down them the right way. I clipped a side mirror on the way here.”
“Okay,” I said, “whoever’s mirror’s broken knows who to find.”
