Page 23 of Unfiltered
“The rare times I’m on social media, I’ve seen some of her stuff.”
“I’ve been working with her. Teaching her the ropes. With guidance, she has the potential to be a legit creator.”
“Your guidance?” Ricki raised her eyebrow.
“Yeah, my guidance. Plus, she’s friends with X-Marks the Spot.”
Ricki’s eyes narrowed. “The Gen X creator that she mentioned in her first message to you?”
“Yeah. She makes those hysterical videos, mostly comparing herself to her baby boomer siblings, but she’s branched out. Been doing comparisons with millennials and Gen Z.”
“And you want her to do a few with your millennial ass?”
Blythe smirked. “That might have crossed my mind. But back to the point. I need your videography skills to capture our first meeting.”
“So Friday night at the Metra station?”
Blythe shook her head. “Union Station.”
“Chicago? Why would she go there?”
“Because Union Station is more impressive. And you call yourself a marketer.”
“Let me get this straight. We’re going into Chicago to pick her up at the station instead of having her come to the station that’s ten minutes from the house?”
“Yep.”
“Are we driving into the city or taking the train?”
“That’s up to you.” Blythe grinned. “See how accommodating I am?”
“A saint.”
“Plus, we’ll miss rush hour traffic because she won’t get in until later in the evening. So, will you?”
Ricki sighed. “It’s almost like you have radar or my phone tapped.” Ricki pretended to give her the side eye. “My boss is going out of town next weekend for his niece’s wedding. He’s sograciousthat he’s giving us the weekend off, too.”
Blythe’s eyes lit up. “So you’ll do it?”
“Somebody needs to chaperone you.” A serious expression crossed Ricki’s face. “Does she know about the others?”
The others Ricki referred to were the series of women Blythe had met online since she’d been creating content. Each relationship had started out hot and heavy, but they’d dwindled. Most ended with a whimper or a few angry words, except with the therapist. It had imploded and taken Blythe several months to emerge from the wreckage.
Blythe still had her blocked but had created a fake profile to track her ramblings. Two years later, she still made veiled posts directed at Blythe.
Ricki pointed. “You’ve got that look on your face. Stop thinking about Marlo.”
“Don’t say her name.” Blythe slammed her hands over her ears. “Nothing good can come from invoking her name.”
It was true. Blythe thought a therapist would be one of the safest people online. Someone who had their emotional act together.Nope.In Marlo’s case, the myth that therapists entered the profession to fix themselves turned out to be true. Unfortunately, she’d yet to heal herself.
“Back to my question. Does Abby know your history?”
“Of course she does.” Blythe frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m telling the truth.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t take a detective to figure it out.”
It was exactly why Blythe had been so transparent with Abby, but she’d never admit it to Ricki.
