Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Heather …” tries Marty, but I sense he knows it’s to no avail with that daughter; she is a train that, once set to the tracks, cannot easily be drawn to a halt.
“Are you done with your love parade for my ex?” asks Finn politely.
“No.” Her eyes turn onto me. Under her gaze, it takes a lot of willpower for me not to retreat into a shell and vanish from the known universe. I should issue my apology right now. Everyone’s here. And I have so much to apologize for. I don’t even have to prepare it; there’s no script when the apology is genuine and comes from your heart.
But what Heather says instead catches me by surprise. “Theo informed me—via a scant number of texts minutes ago on his way out of town—that you are a decent man. Despite how things seem, you have placed my brother’s heart at the very top of your list of priorities.” She bristles. “While I may require a dash more convincing … and I believe Theo may be … rather biased, considering his deep adoration for your film work …” A tiny sigh of concession flees her lips. “I fear I must take his word for it, as I—”
“Oh my god, this is exhausting,” cries Finn, surprising us all. “Heather, we don’t live in 1815. River isn’t courting me. You don’t need to sound so fucking formal.”
Heather’s eyes flash with outrage for half a breath. She turns to her dad and quietly asks, “Did I really sound that bad? It’s just how I talk.”
“And I’m sorry, Heather, but I really don’t need yours or Theo’s verdict on what kind of man River is,” Finn goes on. “He’s not a ‘scandal’. He’s not the problem. He’s just caught up in it because he tried to do the right thing.” He peers at me. “River didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
Brooke’s eyes shift back and forth between us, as one of the cats—Arial, I think—starts weaving in and out from between her legs. She hardly notices, her mind distraught.
I can’t hold back anymore. “I still brought this storm to your door, Finn.” I look at him, his eyes reflecting a kind and gentle urgency. “I bear the responsibility. Not you or anyone in your family. I’ve done so many selfish things my whole life, and apparently it didn’t stop here, even when I dropped into your bungalow with no seeming care of what insanity I might bring along with me. And … all of this … started with my act of cowardice. With my running away.” I let out a sigh of resolve before facing the family. “And I plan to fix it all right now.”
“How?” asks Brooke. Arial’s found his way to her lap. She distractedly pets him. “I’d advise not to post anything, Mr. Wolfe. It’s, like, an inferno out there right now.”
“Then I won’t. Instead, I’ll go live to my followers.”
For a beat, the house holds its breath.
Brooke clears her throat. “As in … a live stream? Real-time? To … say … what, exactly?”
“The truth,” I announce rather anticlimactically. “I plan to explain—without outing my friend—what I did. I’ll take full responsibility for the media circus and for my neglect of the fallout. I will deliver a sincere apology to my fans and to those I’ve affected, and I will do it all live on cam. No editing, no makeup, no performance. Just me and the world.” I give it a second thought. “Maybe a … touch of foundation. Just a dab. Nothing else. Actually, do you guys have a decent lamp around here? Like, for lighting? I don’t wanna look like a gremlin broadcasting from a closet …”
“You can’t do that,” blurts Brooke, her eyes so wide, they’re spilling off her face. “That’s a very bad idea.”
“Is it, though?” asks Heather, scratching her chin. “If I was one of his fans—which I’m not, but I could be, but I’m not, but if I was—then seeing a raw video apology instead of some overly-polished, sterilized post would be far more likely to inspire a sympathetic reaction.”
“It raises way more questions than it answers,” Brooke throws back. “And you can’t really explain why you hit the director without outing your friend, can you?”
“He’ll just say the director is a power-abuser,” Heather counters, “which is true. We know the whole story, by the way,” she adds dryly. “Brooke filled us in.”
“I did,” she admits to me quickly before turning back to her sister. “But he can’t just make a claim like that with no evidence. That can be seen as slander. And considering Mr. Embers—why am I being respectful to that jerk?—Mr. Fuck-Face still hasn’t pressed charges, I don’t think that’s a dragon we wanna wake. Please, Mr. Wolfe …” She turns back to me. “Let me try other things first. I’ve taken us this far, haven’t I? I turned the tides for you once.”