Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“And worth fighting for?” Beanie asks. “Even if you have to get a little out of your comfort zone?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Elly says without a beat of hesitation.
“What do you have in mind, Mama?” I ask as my phone buzzes on the patio table. Again.
I glance over and sure enough, it’s Schwartz, calling on FaceTime.
“Answer it,” Elly says, her voice strong and steady. “Let’s see what he has to say. You don’t have to agree to anything you’re not ready for.”
“That’s right,” Beanie agrees.
Pulling in a bracing breath, I grab my cell and click the green circle. A beat later, Schwartz’s face fills the display, his sandy blond-and-gray hair disheveled, his blue silk tie loose.
The relief on his lightly-lined face is followed quickly by determination as he says, “Shit, kid, finally. We’ve got work to do. I know you’ve got that whole laid back Cajun thing going, and it works for you, it really does, but you have to realize—” He breaks off, seeming to notice Beanie and Elly in the frame behind me. His brows lift. “Oh, well, hello there.” Glancing back at me, he adds in a sassier tone, “Well, I know Mama Beanie, obviously, but are you going to introduce me to your wife, kid? Assuming the rumors are true, and that marriage certificate they just leaked online is real?”
“Schwartz, meet Eloise Graves, my wife,” I say the words as sweet as they were last night. Maybe even sweeter. “Elly, meet Frederick Schwartz, the best sports agent on the West Coast.”
“Either coast,” he shoots back, flashing a quick smile Elly’s way. “Great to meet you, Eloise. But here’s the thing—I already knew your full name. Because the person who leaked that marriage certificate didn’t bother to blur it out. They didn’t blur your birthdates or addresses, either. Which means, at a very baseline ‘shit we have to deal with’ level, you need to freeze your credit across all agencies. Right now.”
Elly nods, looking worried. “Okay, I’ll figure that out as soon as we’re off the call. I mean, my credit isn’t great, honestly, but I don’t want it to get any worse.”
“Don’t worry, kiddo, I bet you’re still fine. It’s only been half an hour since the leak. I doubt the identity thieves are working that hard on a Saturday.” Shifting his attention to me again, he adds, “But I’d recommend you both subscribe to one of those ‘Delete My Private Information’ services ASAP. That certificate has been shared enough times that it’s going to be a royal pain in the ass to get it offline in a meaningful way, and you don’t want to waste your time on that shit.”
“On it!” Beanie announces, pulling out her cell. “I’ll start looking up plans while y’all talk it all through.”
“That’s my girl,” Schwartz says, a warmth in his tone that’s far more genuine than his “I’m your buddy, kid” agent voice. “See? This is what I love about you, Beanie. You don’t hem and haw. You just get shit done. That’s the kind of energy we need right now. The longer we wait to establish a narrative, the more the trolls are going to fill the void.”
“Preaching to the choir,” Beanie agrees as she taps at her cell. “If you ask me, I think Grammercy and Elly should show the world who they are. Show they’re a sweet young couple with a little girl they love, who are trying to make marriage work in a crazy world. Speaking of little ears, Freddy, we’ve got a sweet baby in the pool by us, so if you’d take the cussing down a few notches, I’d sure appreciate it.”
“Yes, ma’am. Understood. And I co-sign all of that,” Schwartz says, a husky note in his voice now that makes me think he enjoys a bossy woman—and perhaps my mother, in particular—more than I would have expected.
Jesus…
What is it with sports guys and my mom?
First, my best friend, now my agent?
Shifting the phone to show less of my mother in her bathing suit, not something I expected to have to worry about on this call, I ask, “So, what would that look like? We make a statement or something? Do we just film that ourselves here at the house? Or find someone to do an interview or—”
“Nah, the less staged it looks, the better.” Schwartz leans back in his chair, relaxing as we move from damage control to strategy, his preferred wheelhouse. “Think about it. What made this go viral? The fact that it was real. Genuine. Romantic. It was a slice of life, straight up, no filter. So, we give them more of the same, just a little more…curated. We show them what we want them to see and get them to thinking what we want them to think.”
Beanie leans back into the frame. “My thoughts exactly, Freddy. So, what time are your people getting here? If you don’t have someone close, my friend Adelaide’s son is a wedding photographer. I’m sure he’s familiar with video, too, and he’s free tonight.”