I can’t believe I would be so stupid as to leave that image on the photo printer. Only… I didn’t even know that was possible…They save those images? Is that legal?
“Cat got your tongue?” Chet leans forward, smiling likehe’sthe cat after my tongue. I can almost hear him saying,Gotcha!“A little investigative journalism revealed our favorite player has a baby girl who may or may not be his, and who you’ve been helping to keep under wraps. I don’t know, but it looks more like you’ve been playing house.” He exhales a laugh. “Am I right? Is this why you’ve been going so easy on him lately?”
The big screen is blowing up with comments and angry-face emojis and wow-face emojis and WTF? emojis…
My phone buzzes wildly in my pocket, and I can only imagine it’s Lindsey telling me to run. Panic strangles me, but I manage to force my lungs to breathe.Inhale, exhale. What would Dad do? He faced worse surprises than this. He was an accidental gay porn star.
Forcing a laugh, I shift in my chair. “Wow, that’s some interesting photoshopping you’ve got there, Chet. Or is that an AI-generated image? Let’s count how many fingers and toes everybody has.”
“I had a feeling you might try to wiggle out of this one, so I phoned a friend.” He stands, holding out his hand. “Susan Jackson, welcome toThe Set with Chet.”
My former partner-turned-nemesis walks onto the dais, waving at an invisible crowd. All of our audience is watching online. We’re talking to cameras, and Chet’s producers are projecting their silent reactions on the screen.
It’s like I’m trapped in some sort-of dystopian Jerry Springer show, and I’m on my feet now, ready to run. At the same time, I can’t abandon Knox and Cricket to these two, especially knowing thatmydumb error is the reason they’ve been exposed.
“Susan, tell us what you know about the Quarterback Princess.” Chet smiles, giving me a wink. “It’s my understanding she’s secretly a softie. She’s all bark and no bite.”
“Hello, Melody!” Susan has the nerve to approach me for a hug.
I step to the side, out of her attempted embrace. “You…” I can’t keep the anger out of my tone. “I should’ve known you were behind a cheap stunt like this.”
“Now, now, we’re not still angry about an old difference of opinion, are we?”
“It’s not old. This is exactly the kind of gross, fake journalism we parted ways over.” I look from her to Chet.
“Why don’t we all sit down?” Chet holds out a hand to the chairs, one of which I abandoned. “We can break this down in real time and get to the bottom of what’s actually going on… for the fans.”
“It’s nobody’s business what’s going on,” I say emphatically. “I don’t comment on Knox Bradford’s personal life.”
“But it certainly appears you engage in it.” Susan gives me a wicked smile before turning to Chet. “She was always this way, never wanting to get her hands dirty, always trying to stay above the drama. What’s that old saying? ‘When they go low, we go high’? Well, I say ‘Let’s go low, and when they go low, we can go even lower!’”
The big screen lights up with the phraseGo Lower!and a volcano of laugh-crying, wow-faced, and thumbs-up emojis erupts.
I keep my tone even. “I’m not discussing private matters in a public forum.”
“QP, this is not a private matter any more, thanks to that photograph. You say you want to go high, but the tagline of your show is to say the messy bits out loud, and this ismess-sey!”
“Breaking down plays and critiquing players is not the same as bringing people on your show to humiliate them. It’s entrapment, and I’m against it.”
“I think it’s time to bring on another surprise guest,” Chet says with a bright smile. “Let’s see what this family member has to say!”
“Who…?” The word dies on my lips as the stage manager holds the arm of a young woman, leading her onto the small stage.
“I’m not the leading sports journalist in the country for nothing.” Susan stands, walking to the girl and holding out her hands. “It only took a bit of digging to uncover Miss Jada Allen, cousin of Jules Allen, also known as Knox Bradford’s baby mamma! Welcome to the show!”
The girl has dark brown hair and large, round eyes that remind me very much of Cricket’s. She looks at our photo still up on the big screen then she looks at me, and her brow crinkles.
“I wasn’t aware this was going to be on… Is this television?” She looks around at the cameras, then her eyes return to me. “I was told I’d be meeting my little cousin. Is she here?”
“Jada, what do you have to say to the Quarterback Princess?” Susan puts her hand on Jada’s back, turning her to me. “Apparently she’s been helping to hide your little cousin from you.”
“I don’t understand.” Jada’s brow furrows, and she squints at me. “Is this one of those trashy talk shows?”
“It’s not supposed to be.” I say through clenched teeth.
My eyes flash at Chet, who has a hand over his mouth like he’s fighting laughter. I’m so angry, my entire body is hot, but Jada beats me to the takedown.
“What is wrong with you people?” She removes Susan’s hand from her back. “I’ve never seen such… toxic narcissism. I came here for Christine.”