Page 88 of A Crazy Kind of Love
The only thing in my notifications, besides a dozen calls from unknown numbers, had been a mention on Facebook. I opened that up to find that Marisa Bennet, Mom’s bitch of a neighbor, had dropped the article about Micah on my mom’s wall.Nice to seeJosie Wilderis making the most of her time in NY.
I grimaced at her tackiness. Yeah, so my mom had proudly posted every single thing that my name ever appeared on for all the world to see, with the very blatant exception of this latest article. Marisa wasted no time attempting to slut shame my mom through me. But my mom had spent the better part of her life dealing with bitches like Marisa, and her response was possibly the greatest thing to happen since the whole debacle began.Come on, Marisa. You know you’d hit that if the opportunity presented itself.
If I’d had any temptation to defend myself, that mic drop allowed me my first solid laugh of the day. I was still chortling when the phone rang again. I didn’t recognize the number, but had a crazy, fleeting worry that Micah might be trying to reach me. I hit Answer, and the man’s mosquito voice droned on immediately about the money they’d pay me for an in-depth interview. All I had to do was sell them a slice of my life.
I hung up, and blew on my tea, wondering if I should wait out the reporters on Micah’s stoop or push through and knock on his door. Before I could make up my mind, Zion texted me a link to a competitor’s site with a video of Micah posted in a sea of targeted ads.This Williamsburg woman controlled her glucose with one weird trick.
The headline read “Fame-Whore Micah Sinclair Confirms He’s Dating Tabloid Photographer Jo Wilder.” My fingers shook as I fished my earbuds out of the side of my pocketbook and hit Play on the video.
Micah opened his front door, dressed in a pair of faded skinny jeans and a white T-shirt with a red Japanese sun on the front.
At least he hadn’t stepped out in his pajamas.
He approached the cameraman closest to him, offering his hand. My mouth dropped open at the unfolding shark attack, and I thought,Run, Micah, run!but he couldn’t hear me.
He tapped the cameraman on the shoulder when his handshake went ignored. “Hey. Sam, right? What’s going on?”
The cameraman shooting the video moved in closer and called out the question they’d been sent to ask. “Do you have any comments on the article posted in theDaily Feedtoday?”
A shadow of confusion passed across Micah’s face, but he controlled his features quickly. “I’m sorry. I’m not aware of any article. What do you wanna know?”
“Is it true you’re currently dating Jo Wilder?”
Micah’s smile broadened. “Is that what brings you here? Is that the news of the day?”
“She’s quoted saying you two are dating.”
Micah turned up the sidewalk and started walking. “If she’s saying that, it must be true, right?”
The first cameraman started walking backward shooting pictures or video. He asked, “Do you want to comment on it?”
If they’d rattled Micah, he didn’t show it. With his usual charm, he calmly told them, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to her about all this before I comment.”
They tag-teamed the questions as they pursued him, pressing for the real scandal and hoping to get a reaction. “What about the other women in the article?”
He didn’t stop walking. If it had been me, I would have stopped. He just said, “As I said, I haven’t read the article you’re referring to.”
But then the reporter recording the video asked, “Are you sleeping with a tabloid journalist to get more media coverage?” and Micah shot him a dirty look.
The other reporter alley-ooped with “Are you sure she didn’t sleep with you to get that insider photo?”
Micah picked up his pace and turned his back on them both, but the camera followed him to the end of the street until he opened a door and went into a coffee shop.
Thiscoffee shop.
Chapter 24
Two cameramen hung around on the sidewalk outside the huge front window, pacing back and forth like prowling wolves. From where I sat, the entire barista island obscured my view of the door, so Micah could have come in while I was messing with my phone. A terrifying, wonderful thought crossed my mind:He could be sitting at a table on the other side of this very room.
And if he was, he’d probably be pulling up the article and learning how badly he’d been portrayed. As hurt as I was by that story, I could imagine he’d feel even worse—taken completely off guard and betrayed.
I stood and walked along the counter toward the front. I peered around the corner. Sure enough, he’d taken a seat in full view of the two cameramen and held his phone in front of him as he read. I glanced outside surprised those two hadn’t breached the entrance at my appearance. Andy would have expected any of his staff to take a seat at the next table with the video rolling—until the staff kicked us out or called the cops.
Micah lifted his eyes from his phone and saw me. “Josie.” The careful composure he’d held in front of the two inquisitors broke—his tight mouth melted into a frown, and his nostrils flared as he sucked in air. I couldn’t tell if he was relieved or pissed.
He stood and indicated the chair across from him.
“Hello, Micah.” I set my tea on the table and scooted in. The speech I’d memorized on the way over threatened to evaporate the longer I looked at him. And dear Lord, I could smell him. I swallowed hard. “Can I go first?”
