Page 93 of Show Off

The camera pans away, and Lana yanks off her lavalier mic. “We’ll be right back.” She snatches my mic and grabs my hand, tugging me off of the stage. We keep going past Cassidy, past the producer who’s pretty much pissing himself with delight.

Lana pulls me into a dressing room and slams the door shut. Her eyes blaze as she faces me. “What the hell was that?”

“What?” I drag a hand through my hair, not entirely sure what I said back there. “Your mother kept throwing you under the bus.”

“And I’m more than capable of dodging the wheels, thank you very much.” She folds her arms and glares. “Do not patronize me, Dal. I’ve had quite enough of that in my life.”

“You don’t think it’s long past time to stand up to her?” I try to shut up, but my temper gets the best of me. “To stop using yourself as a human shield.”

“Yes, Dal.” She throws up her arms with a shout. “I do plan to take control of the story. But I’ll do itmyway. Not with you dramatically outing my whole family on live television. I invited my siblings to dinner tonight. Do you know why?”

“Why?” A roll of my belly says I’ve got a good guess.

“I planned to tell them,” she says. “Tonight. I took your advice and asked them all to come over because there’s something I wanted to share. My story—I wanted to own it, Dal. Not you, not Jamila Jarrett’s viewers, not my parents—me.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling a little bit shitty. “Maybe I shouldn’t have mouthed off.”

“You think?” She’s pacing now, stomping back and forth in the dressing room. Someone knocks on the door, and Lana whirls to face it. “What?”

A male voice rumbles uneasily. “Ma’am, we need you back on stage in one minute.”

“Fuck off!” I shout at the same moment Lana cheerfully calls, “Be right out!”

Whirling to face me, she growls. “How is this better?”

“What?”

“If your chief concern is having someone else run roughshod over me, how is your plan better? You stomped all over my right to tell my storymyway—to handle it how I saw fit.”

She’s probably got a point. “It seemed way past time for the truth.”

“You are not the person who gets to make that call.” Her hands tremble as she crosses her arms again. “I shared my secret in confidence, Dal.”

“I—” Damn, she’s right. “You said it felt good to share it.”

“Which doesnotgive you the right to offer it up secondhand.” Tears fill her eyes, equal parts rage and dismay. “How am I ever supposed to trust you?”

“I’m sorry.” But hell, what’s done is done. “At least it’s out there now, right? The secret can’t sneak up and hurt you anymore.”

“Bullshit,” she snaps and steps back. “You’re hardly the expert on what hurts me.”

Ouch. Hell, maybe I did make a mistake. “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s just…move on.” I reach for her hand, but Lana jerks back.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It can be.” My hands start to prickle, and I reach for her, but Lana steps back. “Babe?”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, Dal.” She takes another step back, the goodbye in her eyes looking more than a little bit grave. “There’s a difference between making a mistake and deliberately throwing someone to the wolves.”

“I didn’t mean to do that.” Damn, I’ve screwed up worse than I thought. “Listen, Lana?—”

“I’m done listening.” She pulls open the door, eyes locked with mine as she takes another step back. “And I’m done with this.”

No. “With this?”

“Withus, Dal.” She stares in my eyes and I see she’s not bluffing. A tear rolls down her cheek, and she skims it away. “I can’t be with a man who lets his ego run the show. Who thinks he knows what’s best for me.”

“Lana—” Fuck, I have to fix this. “Look, the story’s out now. I loosened the lid. Now open the jar.” I need her to see the upside of my dick move. “Seize the chance to take charge of the story.”

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