“Heck yeah, she is,” the other agreed. “But as Sylvia Sampson might say—that’s the name of the ranting blonde—we found one teensy tiny problem with Veritå.”
“Dude,” the long haired one said. “I don’t care what the problem is. Tell me she’s only got two fingers and two toes, I’d still take her.”
“Okay,” said the other one. “How about twokids?”
The record screeching came again.
How would they know that?A deep wave of nausea rolled through Viv. It was just what she feared.
“Yep. She’s got twins. We used our super stellar skills to attain a picture of the boys, but since they’re minors we blurred out their faces.”
Viv gasped as a picture of the twins came up on the screen. It was a recent photo Mom took and likely posted while they were at Disneyland. Their faces were blurred, sure, but that didn’t stop the acidic heat that pooled up the back of Viv’s throat.
“They actually look like a couple of mini me’s,” the short haired one said.
“Total stallions in the making,” the other agreed. “But let’s be honest. Would youstilldate this chick knowing she had not one, buttwokids?”
Viv pushed pause with a shaky hand before the answer could come.
Her fingers felt numb as she scrolled down the to the comments section. There were already over four hundred.
—There’s no way Duke is gonna stay with a chick that has two kids,one said.
—Is it right to date a guy you’re being paid to interview, like…while you’re interviewing him?
—He’s two-timing for sure. This is Duke Benton we’re talking about, guys, get real.
—Duke’s definitely using that chick from the valley, but who cares? He can use me any day. I’ll write whatever he wants me to.
—Two kids is a double deal breaker for me. I don’t care how hot she is.
Just when she thought she’d seen enough, Viv caught the ones below that.
—Veritå needs to retire or pick a new name. It’s not very “truthful” to hide the fact that you’re in love with the guy you’re writing about.
—She’s using her position to date her clients now? How sad.Slippershould boycott her.
A horrible blast of heat bubbled from an aching spot in her chest, quickly spreading over her body as her eyes clenched shut.
Viv rested both hands on the top edge of her laptop. Slowly then, she lowered it, shutting out the blinding light behind her lids little by little until it was closed.
She picked the laptop up then, plopped it onto the lower corner of the bed, and sank into the mound of pillows at her back.
It was all too much to process. In one sense, Vivwasupset that Duke hadn’t defended her. He could have at least made it clear that he loved her—the subject was already on the table.
But that wasn’t what sent her out of the banquet room in a panic. It’s not what urged her to get home without waiting for Duke or anyone else. It’s not what caused her to dodge Duke’s call or reply to his text the way she had.
Viv reached for her phone, pulled up her messages, and read over his text as a hot, stinging ache ripped through her heart.
Duke:Vivi, please call me. I love you.
Viv:I love you too. I just need some space.
She hadn’t known how else to say it. Duke had become like air to her.
In the weeks leading up to the event, she hadn’t been able to picture life without him. Perhaps that had blinded her in some way after all. Intentional as she’d tried to be, maybe she’d been ignoring parts of the puzzle that would never click into place.
Maybe she’d been ignoring the very truth all along—that she was never meant to live in high society. It’s not who she was or where she fit.
