“That’s not what happened.”
“I’m aware. My wife filled me in. So why haven’t you released a public statement?”
“We’re working on that now,” I grumble.
“You should work faster. Your girlfriend getting her period is far less scandalous.” Connor inspects his nails. “They should have had supplies in the bathroom for her.”
“It was too late for that.”
“Oh my gosh! I have the best idea!” Hammer slaps the table.
Everyone startles.
“Sorry.” She wiggles around in her chair. “But hear me out.” She holds up both hands. “What if we have a tampon toss?”
Hemi wrinkles her nose. “The visual on that is not appealing.”
“Like the teddy bear toss, but we do it with period supplies. Let’s spin this around on the media and do something good with it. There are all kinds of women’s shelters looking for feminine hygiene products.”
“And the group homes,” Connor adds. “We had a similar incidentwith Everly.”
“Poor thing.”
“I’ve learned a lot about tampons in the past couple of years.”
“I love this idea, and we will run with it.” Hemi points at me. “And you will be the one to promote it during this interview.”
“I’ll get started on graphics and T-shirts!” Hammer says.
“I’ll go on a coffee run,” Dallas offers.
“I’ll have Meems threaten to pull advertising funding from the networks who are incessantly posting those pictures of you and Tally,” Connor says.
“Because you don’t want your wife to be sad if I end up traded?” I ask.
He blinks steadily at me. “I never want my wife to be sad, but I also don’t enjoy watching the media create unnecessary drama.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck with the interview.” Connor leaves us to it.
Hemi, Hammer, and I spend the next twenty minutes talking things through.
“I want to make sure the focus stays on the present, on me and Tally.” I’ve seen a couple photos of me and Fiona floating around out there, and I really don’t want that to come up now.
“I think we all want the same thing.” Hemi taps her pen on her desk. “Is there anything else we need to know?”
“No.” I lean back in my chair. “We’re good.”
The journalist from the Tribune arrives. She’s a tiny thing with dark curls, thick glasses, dressed all in black. The only pop of color is her patterned flats.
“Marietta! Thank you so much for coming.” Hemi rounds her desk, and they shake hands before she introduces her to Hammer, Dallas, and then finally me.
“Flip Madden, your reputation precedes you.”
“Hard to get out from under.”
Hemi coughs. “Maybe keep that off the record.”
