“Of course,” she says, her smile widening. “You’ve become a hero to women everywhere. Women who identify with you. As your online biography says, after all, you are anti-romance.”
I give a little shrug, glad she’s moved on from the cheating ex-boyfriend thing. Jason doesn’t deserve even one second of publicity for what he did. “That’s me. Feels good to write about something new.”
“Do you regret the romance novels that made you a popular author?”
I swallow the knot in my stomach. “Of course not.”
“But you are anti-romance now.”
“Yes.”
Zoey’s lips press into a thin smile. A shiver runs down my spine. “Care to explain this?”
She holds up a thick piece of paper, something like a posterboard with an image printed on it. My heart stops. It’s not a picture I recognize because I’ve never seen this. in fact, I didn’t know this picture even existed. But it’s a picture of me.
And Max.
Smiling at each other like love-struck dorks at Roger’s Diner. My hand touches his forearm gingerly,flirtatiously.
The bright red light on the camera lens reminds me I’m being recorded right now. Every expression on my face will be aired for everyone to see. How does she expect me to act? Scandalized? Embarrassed? Like some kind of trollop who lies to her fans about being anti-romance and then goes out on dates with hot men?
Well, I’m not going to give her the satisfaction.
“That’s Max. He’s a friend,” I say with a bright, unaffected smile. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who think men and women can’t be friends?”
“This looks like much more than friendship,” Zoey says, peering at the photo. The photo she’d had professionally printed and bound to a thick posterboard. This was done specifically to set me up. To air my personal life on camera.
I see red.
I realize that this is my house. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. So I do the thing Rosa Ramirez would do. I stand up, pulling the mic pack off my shirt with a dramatic flourish.
“You are being extremely rude and this interview is now over.”
Eleven
Tomi swoopsin from out of nowhere, trying to smooth things over. With a slice of her hand across her neck, the cameraman turns off the camera. Zoey sits here, back straight, head held high like she’s done nothing wrong.
“Julie, please,” Tomi says, her earpiece looking like a creepy spider crawling out of her ear. “Don’t leave the interview.”
“This isn’t an interview,” I say loudly from the kitchen. This isn’t journalism. This is trashy reality TV crap. I didn’t sign up for that and I don’t have to put up with it.”
“You signed up to be interviewed and you didn’t specify any topics that were off limits,” Tomi says with a smile meant to placate that does absolutely nothing to placate me.
“I didn’t know I had to specify off limits questions! I’m an author, not some controversial celebrity!”
Tomi’s expression shows she thinks I’m some kind of dumb kid. She opens her mouth to speak again, but then Max steps forward.
“I don’t give permission for my image to be used,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Tomi winces. “Unfortunately, you don’t get to decide that. This picture was taken in a public venue by one of our viewers who sent it in. The law states that public photos in public places are not subject to personal privacy. The only permission we need is that of the photographer, and she’s already given it.”
“So some stranger creep took a picture of me without me knowing it and I don’t get to object?” I glance over toward Zoey, but she’s chatting with her beautiful entourage, not seeming the least bit upset that I stopped her interview. It’s Tomi the producer begging me to stay.
“Ms. Baskins, that photo is the reason you got this interview. A concerned fan brought it our attention that a prominent author was making money off being against romance, but she was having a romance herself. Your hypocrisy makes for great TV.”
“So this was supposed to be some kind of gotcha interview? This is crap, and you know it. Max is my friend. We’re not dating.” Even as I say the words, I know they’re only partially true. He is my friend. And we’re NOT dating. But… we kissed. And my crush on him won’t go away no matter how much I metaphorically stomp on it in my head.
“That’s great,” Tomi says. “Totally fine if you’re just friends. Go back on the interview and explain that you’re just friends. We can edit out the previous few minutes and start over again. That photo will be used to entice viewers, but once they hear your side of the story, it’ll all be cleared up. This is actually great publicity for you, Julie.”
