My phone beeps next to me, and I pick it up, expecting a text from Tessa.
323-555-6775:So much for the joint statement.
I stare at my screen. There are previous texts from this person, and I scroll up to get more insight, clues about who it might be. Although I have my suspicions.
The last message I received from this number is just a GIF of someone running desperately into the ocean. It’s definitely Luke. I remember that day. We were in a meeting, and Simone had told him the statement he’d written for a client looked like the work of an intern. He took it in stride in person, but afterward he sent me this.
This was right before he left Harrow & Finch. And following his exit, I deleted his contact from my phone. Apparently, that didn’t delete our text thread.
Here’s a side effect I didn’t expect from this blind item: Luke Wilder pestering me. If Simone could come back tomorrow, that would be wonderful.
Me:Who is this?
323-555-6775:The sexiest man alive
Me:Jonathan Bailey?
323-555-6775:Yeah, he’s definitely sexier than me. I’ll give you that. It’s Luke.
Me:What do you want, Luke?
323-555-6775:Did you really not know it was me?
Me:I deleted your contact info
323-555-6775:You deleted me and never listened to my voicemail. Noted.
I don’t respond. There’s nothing to say. I did both those things, and I have no regrets. Though part of me—a very, very small part—is still wondering what he could possibly have said in that voicemail.
My phone beeps.
323-555-6775:Did your client drop that blind item?
I stare at my phone. Really? He’s blaming Bailey for this? It just as easily could have been River.
That’s the thing about blind items—the source is almost never revealed. Could be the celebrity, their team, a brokenhearted ex with too much time on their hands. You never know and chasingit is a waste of energy. What matters is what the story is doing. And right now, it’s not doing much to Bailey.
I text back what I think Simone would say in this instance.
Me:No. She didn’t.
323-555-6775:River thinks she dropped it to make it look like he cheated.
I roll my eyes because of course he’d think that. This is how these kinds of things spiral. I’m sure if it were flipped and people were blaming Bailey for the breakup, she might think River was the source.
I quickly text again.
Me:Well, he’s wrong
Luke doesn’t reply, and I don’t add his name to my phone, out of pettiness.
The next morning, the internet is working overtime. Everyone is piling on River. There are full breakdowns online, in long and short form, and everyone agrees River is the villain and Bailey is the victim.
I’ve been reading all about it over my coffee from Common Ground, which I sent Tessa out to grab for us, along with somescones. We needed some sustenance while sifting through the wreckage.
“Poor River,” Tessa says, sliding her phone across my desk, her face sympathetic, her blonde bob tucked behind her ears.
It’s a video from You Oughta Know, a celebrity gossip influencer with a massive following built on chaos. She’s going on about another actress from the show that she thinks River cheated with. It’s probably totally made up, and it has over fifty thousand likes.
