Page 5 of Not My Fault

“She’s good. We’re thinking about moving out of my apartment and finding something together. But of course, trying to find a place right now is kind of hell. So we will wait and see.” She shrugs.

“I’ll keep an ear out if I hear anything. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Not really. Close to work would be nice. But otherwise, we’re fine with one or two bedrooms,” River says.

“Got it.” I nod.

My attention drifts to my phone buzzing in my pocket.

Cari: I’m so sorry I had to cancel

Cari: I fell so behind on editing the last few days

Cari: Can I see you tonight?

Cari: I promise to make it up to you

I smirk; she knows exactly how to get me back. I hate that I’m so far gone for her. As much as I want to deny it, I’ll be back in her bed later tonight for sure. It isn’t like she is doing anything wrong. She’s been up front about everything—even offered details if I wanted them, which I don’t. I think it is more the fact that I know she isn’t having an open relationship to be with anyone, she’s having it to be with Max. And if I had to guess, that is the reason she fell behind on editing. Sighing, I start typing a text back.

Me: What time can I come over?

THREE

Emily

“Ithink we should be doing damage control on your image,” Viv continues, like she hasn’t rocked my world by showing me that email.

“How?” Georgie chimes in.

“We have a plan to make you look more…approachable and tame by media standards,” one of the assistants chimes in.

“I need pants for this. Have a seat and I’ll be right back.” I sigh.

I reach my bedroom and grab a pair of shorts. This is not at all how I wanted to wake up or spend the morning. Sighing, I grab my phone and head back for the kitchen. Everyone is sitting around my dining room table while Georgie and one of the assistants are making coffee. She knows she doesn’t have to do that, but I also know she likes helping when she can’t do anything else. I sit at the head of the table and Georgie brings me my coffee in my favorite mug. It’s pink, has a picture of a middle finger, and saysdon’t fuck with me before coffee. Viv frowns as I hold up the cup and drink a hearty sip.

Viv is usually frowning. I’m not quite sure what she likes about this job or if she’s ever truly enjoyed it. She’s older thanmy parents, probably in her sixties, with more wrinkles from the constant frowning. Her hair is always in a perfect bob, straightened to align her high cheek bones and sharp jaw. Her lips are a bare pink with no lipstick, and she has little to no makeup. She’s usually wearing a suit or something professional. I always wonder how she got into this line of work, but it isn’t something she talks about often.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” she says in a sharp voice.

“Georgie, come join us,” I tell her. I want her to hear all of this too.

“We have you scheduled for several talk show appearances over the next few months that you will have to prepare for,” the assistant says.

“I know how to do an interview—” I start.

“You’ll need to be prepped about what you should and should not be discussing. We’re trying to tame your image; we can’t afford you going rogue right now.” Viv sighs.

“Fine, what else?” I know better than to push anything right now. I can pick my battles later.

“We booked you on Sesame Street in a few weeks?—”

This time I’m the one to cut them off. “Are you serious?” I say with a laugh.

“You’ll be the musical guest and they’re adapting one of your songs to fit the show,” they continue.

“It shows you care about children and can keep your shirt on, which a lot of people aren’t sure of right now. Plus, the parents watching will have face recognition which is good for your brand.”

“Okay.” I just nod.

---