Page 37 of Claim to Fame

She straightened, crossing her own arms over her chest in a posture that mimicked his so perfectly it would have been funny if he wasn’t feeling twelve kinds of foolish.

“And why are you looking up ‘bad things’ about Hannah? I thought you liked her.”

“She said something at dinner tonight about people writing mean things about her online.”

“And you wanted to read them because…”

“I don’t know! Maybe I wanted to get a sense of what she’s dealing with.”

Tessa considered his answer for a minute before nodding and typing something into his computer again. “Be careful what you wish for, Dad.”

With a final click, she stood upright and gestured for him to come take his seat in front of the monitor. The screen was filled with a list of articles with headlines like “Jackson Ditches the Dead Weight” and “Heartthrob Moves On; Plain Jane Girlfriend Devastated.” He scrolled and the list went on, a never-ending stream of articles picking apart photos, entertainment ‘experts’ weighing in on their body language, so-called sources close to the couple offering their two cents about the inevitable demise of Hannah and Jackson’s relationship.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, clicking on the first headline. A photo of Hannah and Jackson at lunch in some New York City restaurant filled the screen, red circles drawn around Hannah’s exposed upper arms, the profile of her chin, Jackson’s hand holding his cell phone. The article beneath the photo called out what they claimed were signs the relationship had been on the rocks months earlier, starting with the ways Hannah had ‘let herself go,’ her alleged (but not visible) double chin their proof.

“Hannah probably wouldn’t like you reading that,” Tessa said.

“Then she shouldn’t have told me about it. How do you leave a comment on this thing?”

“Dad—”

He jabbed a finger at the computer screen. “This dipshit—NotThatXtina97—is saying shit about Hannah that’s not true. Someone needs to set the record straight.”

“And that someone is you?”

“Look at this other loser—WannaFreakU—what the fuck kind of name is that? Mr. Freak—”

“Mr. Freak?”

“—thinks it’s okay to comment on a woman’s body on the internet. I bet he hasn’t even seen a woman’s body in real life.”

“Dad, they’re trolls. This is what they do. They go on the internet and they write shitty things in their own shitty little echo chambers. Do not feed the trolls.”

“I’m not going to feed them, T, I’m going to rip them a new asshole.”

Tessa leaned against his desk. “You like her.”

“What?” He clicked aggressively on what he hoped was the ‘reply’ link, but instead an ad for Pure Sexxy Juice Enhancer filled his screen.

“You like Hannah.” He glanced at his daughter, his jaw clenched so tightly he thought he might crack a tooth. “Come on, Dad. I already know she’s the woman from Boston.”

“How did you— I’m going to kill that husband of yours.”

“Jamie didn’t sell you out, don’t worry. We try very hard not to talk about you as much as possible,” she laughed. “It wasn’t that difficult to put together. What I’m struggling to make sense of is why you’re trying to act like she doesn’t mean anything to you when you are so clearly into her.”

“I am not,” he grumbled.

“You couldn’t stop staring at her ass the whole time we were at trivia.”

“Fucking hell.” He dragged his hand over his face, leaned back in his chair and looked up at Tessa, meeting her challenging stare with a scowl. “I thought you and I had an understanding: we don’t talk about our love lives.”

“So you admit there’s something to talk about.” Tessa grinned.

“It’s complicated,” he finally said.

“Why? Because of Jackson Hayes?” she asked. When she looked at him like that, all defiance and laughter mixed together, she looked so much like her mother it made him almost lose his breath. “She said it’s been over for a while, long before you two had your little weekend getaway.”

“She told you that?” Tessa shrugged, so he continued. “It’s not about Jackson. She lied to me.”

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