She’s recording the entire thing on her phone in case the recording she set up on the computer doesn’t work.
Backups.
“What thefuck?” Romeo says.
“I hear you’re selling your GrippaBeav channel,” Cricket says. “I want to make an offer.”
“Fuck,” Romeo says again, and then the screen goes blank.
Mabel rolls her eyes. “Amateur.”
Cricket looks at Mabel and holds up her own phone. “So now I hit send on this email?”
“If that’s how you want to handle it.”
Cricket made me, Mabel, Ginny, and Olivia all triple-check that she’d attached the right documents and that the email she drafted to her family was coherent and clear.
All she has to do is hit send if she wants to expose him to the whole family.
As Cricket looks at her phone, it rings in her hand.
I step closer.
Romeo.
He’s calling her.
She answers and puts him on speaker.
Mabel goes back to filming on her phone.
“Hello, asshole,” Cricket says.
“Shut up and listen,” he hisses. “This isn’t what you think.”
“Isn’t it? Because I think it’s you being the dicknugget who asked AI to animate my labia singing along and dancing to seventies’ disco hits and charging people fifty bucks a month to view them on GrippaBeav.com, and is now trying to sell the channel to make yourself a few million dollars. Do I have that about right?”
“I saidshut up and listen. You don’t know a fucking thing. You don’t know what my life is like.”
“I grew up with your wife. I can probably take a few guesses.”
I cover my mouth so I don’t audibly snicker.
Ginny’s beaming.
Samantha pumps a fist in the air.
Dad grins at me.
My parents love Cricket every bit as much as I thought they would.
Possibly more.
Mostly because it turns out she’s killer at karaoke, and she and Dad entertained us for hours last night.
Karaoke will always win them over.
“Do you know how fucking expensive medical school is? We’re drowning in debt?—”
