“I understand,” she said with a small smile. I’ll bet she did. She realized she wasn’t getting anything more on that front. “You had some issues before that, though, and then there was the protest at the wedding in June.”
I held back a sigh because I knew these questions were coming. Raphael had coached me on what to say so it wouldn’t seem like I was trying to implicate Brian. I talked about the hacking and the bogus reviews.
“The biggest problem was that whoever got the information leaked the wedding date. That was what caused the most problems. There have been same-sex weddings all over the Jersey Shore for years. Why this wedding and why my hotel? I think whoever was responsible for the hack fired up people to protest.”
Jessica frowned, but then her expression lightened. “Your counter-protest was brilliant though. Having choirs from local congregations instead of people yelling at each other.”
I had to smile at that. “It was totally my general manager, Caitlin’s, idea. She came up with it and ran with it. She’s amazing.”
“It seemed to be an effective strategy for most of the protest,” Jessica said. “But then something changed.”
The monitors in front of us switched to an edited video of the three men coming at Marco and me with baseball bats. I wasn’t sure where to look. I’d seen different versions of the video probably a dozen times since the wedding, and I was pretty sick of it.
When it was over, Jessica looked at me with gleaming eyes. “That was pretty impressive the way the two of you took down those guys so quickly.”
I suppressed a sigh. “Thanks. Honestly, I wish I hadn’t had to do that. I learned self-defense to protect myself. I never thought I’d have to use it like that.”
I felt my throat constrict and my eyes burned. “It made me realize that I’ve lived a pretty privileged life. My parents accepted me, and I never had any real trouble at school or in town. But I know other people don’t have the same advantages I have. This incident brought that home for me.”
“It obviously bothers you,” she observed.
I gave her a slight shrug. “Yeah. It popped that little bubble I lived in—not really understanding how terrible people could be.”
A picture of Jeremy holding me, his arms tight around me, my face tucked into the crook of his neck, came up on the monitors.
“It seems like you had someone to comfort you though,” she said with a knowing smirk. She faced the cameras directly and continued, “For those who don’t know, the other man is world-renowned pianist and composer, Jeremy Fitzgerald.” Jessica turned back to me. “I understand the two of you are dating.”
I couldn’t help the smile that curved my lips. “Yeah. For about two months now.”
“You met here at the hotel, right?”
I nodded. “Jeremy stayed here to prepare for his best friend’s wedding and to get out of the City for a while.”
“And he did a fundraiser concert here after being out of the spotlight for almost a year.” The interviewer leaned forward eagerly. “What’s the story behind that?”
I clenched my jaw. I’d already told her I wasn’t giving her any dirt on Jeremy. I breathed out slowly and pasted on a smile. “That’s his story to tell. But if you want to see him in concert, he’s playing theRhapsody in Blueconcerto with the New York Philharmonic at Carnegie Hall tonight as part of a Gershwin tribute. There might still be some tickets left. I’m heading up there after this to see him.”
Jessica’s expression acknowledged her defeat. She wrapped up the interview with some more praise for the hotel, and then we were finally done. She rose and shook my hand, smiling wryly. “Sorry. I had to try. That’s my job.”
“And it’s my job to protect him,” I replied.
Marco was waiting for me out front with the car when I was done. My suit for the concert and my overnight bag were already inside. Marco was taking me because Tony wanted extra coverage for Jeremy in case Pierce showed up at the pre-show meet and greet. I got in the front seat with him because I was not a diva and I liked talking to him.
“So you’re famous again,” I said as I buckled my seat belt.
Marco rolled his eyes. “Christ. How much more mileage are they gonna get out of that? It was a month ago, for fuck’s sake.”
“I hear you,” I said. I checked the time on his dashboard. Almost three p.m. I was supposed to meet Jeremy at his place so we could get to Carnegie Hall by five-thirty.
“How’s the traffic?” I asked Marco as he pulled out of the back parking lot.
Marco checked his car’s navigation system. “Looks good so far.” He frowned. “Although the Lincoln Tunnel looks like it’s getting backed up.”
“Guess we better get going. I don’t want to be late.”
I should have known better.
THIRTY-SIX
