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“Yes.” He steepled his hands in front of his chest. “He has shared a photo of you in a robe to prove his relationship—that was for aPeople Magazinearticle, by the way.”
“Oh, that devil.”
Javier was using the media blitz to promote himself. I huffed. I’d done my best not to pay attention to the media at all because, frankly, it upset my stomach. There was no getting away from them now.
“Also, Clint Davis, a quarterback in Nebraska, has been questioned about you. He lost his temper with one reporter and said you’re a good girl and that he loves you.”
I put an arm over my eyes. “Dear Lord.”
After a few more minutes of moaning, and getting lectured by Tyrese to keep a low profile, I pulled myself off that futon and slumped off to call my lawyer. She endorsed the idea of hiring a PR firm and took the opportunity to update me on the various legal proceedings that had to do with settling Joshua’s estate, and the lawsuits against me from his family. There wasn’t bad news, but it didn’t cheer me up either.
After hanging up, I called a number I’d been dying to press for a long time. “Hi, Mama. This is your Spicy Spice,” I said into her voice mail recording. She never answered numbers she didn’t recognize. “Well, the shit’s hit the fan so I’m gonna take advantage of one silver lining—I get to call you and Dad again. Hey, can I fly y’all out to Hawaii for a meetup? Talk to you soon.”
With another glass of wine, I sat down at the dining-room table and got busy on my computer. West Coast time in the United States was always behind everyone else so mostly I left messages, sent emails, filled out forms, and did a bunch of research on PR firms. Antonio’s homemade pizza baking in the kitchen kept me going. Also, he’d made a mango, rum, and whipped cream parfait dessert.
Amber, bless her brave heart, did come over. She shut the door behind her and then slumped against it. “Girl, I don’t think I really believed you until I saw those people out in the road with my own eyes. Aren’t they, like, jaywalking or something?”
I waved my hand around in the air. “Tyrese is on it. Hey, do you think I have a brand? What the hell should I do with all this attention?”
She blinked at me, her eyebrows up. “You’re a little tipsy—not that I blame you one little bit. Just don’t do anything right now.”
“Well, I was gonna flash my tits at those cameras down there, until you said that.”
“Show me to the wine instead. Hello, Charley—he remembered me, did you see that? What a good boy.” Amber waved hello to Tyrese and followed me into the kitchen. “Is that fresh pizza with barbecue sauce? Oh, my goodness, I’m so glad I came over tonight.”
We filled up our plates with pizza and salad then headed down to the pool to eat. It was still warm, and I was consideringa swim later—except Charley had a tendency to panic whenever I went in the water.
“How are your roommates handling it?” Amber asked as we sat down at the table covered by a big blue-and-white striped umbrella.
“They’re avoiding me.” I swallowed more wine. “Actually, they’re mostly not here. I’ll give them time to process and read up on me. I’ve sent out a house text so they know about the gate rats.”
Amber snorted. “Have you seen the clip of Javier they’re playing on TMZ?”
“No.”
“He says, ‘Do not speak to me of my girlfriend!’ Then he throws down a plastic cup of ice in front of the camera and charges forward before being grabbed and dragged back by some production assistants or something. Very romantic. Did I mention he was shirtless?”
“Of course he was. He’s worked very hard on his body. Such a golden opportunity for him.”
“Cynical. But true, I guess. Is there any real romance left in the world?”
I sighed. Hank was romantic. “I don’t know.”
“Mario texted me again today.” Amber sniffed then took a big bite of her salad.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. I decided to ghost him—nothing but cold silence. Today he was all, hey, I’m sorry, things were moving too fast for me blah blah.”
“Doesn’t know his own mind.” I sympathized with him a bit. Sometimes that amazing person came along when you weren’t quite ready for them…
“I met a guy for coffee today.” Amber made a face.
“Really? How did it go?”
“Weirdly. He was very nervous or something—maybehigh—I don’t know. When he asked me, ‘How do you feel about toes?’ it was like time froze while we stared at each other. He really, really wanted to know. I couldn’t figure out if I’d heard him wrong or what the hell was going on.”
“A toe fetish? What’s a toe going to do for him?”
