Page 94 of Show Off

“I am.” Squaring her shoulders, she takes a breath. “By ending things with you.”

As she closes the door, I feel my stupid heart smash in a thousand sharp bits.

CHAPTER13

CONFESSIONAL 1189.5

Judson, Lana (Public Relations Director: Juniper Ridge)

When things go to hell, that’s when a good PR pro really shines. Everyone else starts freaking out, but you?

You’re cool as can be.

There you are, not in the spotlight, but behind the scenes working your magic. You know what needs to be done, and it’s like muscle memory kicking in.

[long pause]

The heart’s a muscle.

The most important one in the human body.

[quietly unclips mic and exits studio]

* * *

For the next fifteen minutes, I’m a robot.

I have to be.

It’s the only way to survive the last moments of Jamila Jarrett’s show with my heart burned to ash in my chest. With my mother unsmiling beside me, I slide into PR survival mode.

“Now that we’ve all settled down,” I say smoothly, my eyes shooting ice at my mother, “Let’s take a step back.”

“A step back.” Jamila looks at her viewers, and the audience squirms. “Ohh-kay.”

She’s baiting me now, but I won’t bite. I’m a goddamn professional. “I think every single one of us knows how it feels when someone says something awful about us.” I look at the crowd and see a few heads nod.Good. “Something hurtful and cruel and, whether it’s true or not, words have impact. We’re all human. All of us. Doesn’t matter if you’re a teacher or a chef or an actress or an astronaut. Everyone’s got feelings.”

I’m seeing more nods from the crowd as I turn back to my mother. She looks unsure but doesn’t open her mouth.Good.She’s said more than enough already.

As I reach for her hand, Mom stiffens. “I can say with great confidence that my mother shares my belief that it’s on all of us to do better. To be mindful of our words.”

Shirleen has no choice but to nod and pretend we’re just a happy mother/daughter team. That a wrecking ball hasn’t smashed through our carefully crafted illusion.

“You’re right, of course.” Jamila’s smile wobbles. “Lord knows people have said cruel things about me over the years.” As she looks at the crowd, she straightens a little. “Falsethings.”

“Indeed.” I clear my throat and look at Jamila. “Which is why it’s so important to rise above the worst things other people say about you.”

Jamila looks uncertain. “Well, I don’t know about?—”

“In a spirit of rising above,” I continue, not giving Jamila a chance to steer us back to scandal. I’m done with that. “Shirleen Judson will be donating half her release week royalties fromLemon Lightto support the fine work of the Anti-Bullying League. They’re an international charity aimed at stomping out bullying worldwide.”

Mom’s eyes go wide as Jamila claps. “How generous, Shirleen.” Jamila tries to rally. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

My mother seems frozen. Her eyelashes dip, blinking two or three times, so I know she’s alive. Then something shifts.

Mom turns to face me, her voice much too soft with the din of the crowd. “I’m sorry,” she says, and the audience quiets. “I’m sorry for putting you in an unfair position. A mother prioritizes her child’s needs first, and I—” Her voice hitches, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I haven’t always done that. And I’m sorry.”

As the audience claps, I lean over the arm of my chair, and I hug her. I hug her hard and fierce as she strokes my hair and tears roll down my face. “Thank you.”

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