Page 115 of Just for the Cameras
“No interviews,” Graydon snaps behind me.
“No interviews,” Gretchen confirms. “This is just a photo opportunity. We’ll have a few inside shots, nothing staged, almost like the paparazzi took them, and then we’ll have them leaked.”
I turn to look up at Graydon because this is way out of my wheelhouse. His jaw is tight as he mulls it over. “Leaked to who?”
“Sports outlets only,” Gretchen answers.
“What will be the narrative?”
“We’re still working on the copy, but once we have it, we’ll send it to you for approval.”
What the heck are they even talking about?
“And the protocol for any backlash,” he asks.
“There won’t be any backlash.”
“Gretchen,” Graydon snaps and leans forward, his chest pressing to my back. “You and I both know there will be backlash, so don’t tell me there won’t be. I want a protocol for how to protect her if that happens.”
Gretchen mulls it over. I can see in her eyes that she won’t care about any backlash because her top priority isn’t protecting me but rather protecting the goal—to make the Foghorns shine. And as much as that sucks, I accept it, because I knew that going into this.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I can handle whatever backlash there is. Just make sure everything works out for Graydon.”
“Have you lost your mind?” he asks, turning toward me. “Absolutely not.”
“She has a point,” Gretchen says, and I knew it. I could see her hesitation when he asked for a protocol to protect me.
“She does not have a fucking point,” he seethes. “There is no way I’m going to let her just drown if this goes bad.”
“It won’t,” I say with conviction. “We have people eating out of our hands with Flock and Tackle. It will be fine.”
“Yeah, and once we confirm what people are thinking, the trolls are going to surface from the dark parts of the internet and tear you apart.”
“Let them,” I say casually. “I have nothing to worry about. I know who I am, and I’m good with who I am. If people have a problem with that, then that’s their issue, not mine.”
“Then it’s settled.” Gretchen smiles. “I’ll have hair and makeup meet you at your place again. And we’re sending over a dress as well. You can get out of work a few hours early, right?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful.” She looks at her watch. “Well, I should be going—”
“Hold on, we’re not done here,” Graydon says. “I want a protocol, Gretchen, or I’m not fucking going.”
She sighs heavily. “Graydon, this isn’t—”
“I’m not fucking around.” He sticks his helmet on his head and points at her. “I want a protocol sent to me before the event or I’m not going.” He latches his chin strap and is about to take off before turning toward me. “There should be a link waiting for you to get a ride to the zoo.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say, and then he takes off, making powerful strides toward the defense.
“I’ve never met someone more stubborn in my entire life,” Gretchen mutters while shaking her head and staring down at her phone. When she looks up, she says, “Looks like I’ll be putting together a protocol, just what I want to do on a freaking Friday.” She then looks me up and down and asks, “How are you with wearing yellow?”
“Fine,” I answer.
“Okay, I’ll let the girls know.”
Then, with that, she takes off.
Well, looks like we’re going public. Better get ready, because even though I said I could handle the heat, I need to mentally prepare. I know just how critical the internet can be.
