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“What sorts of segments will you have?” someone else asks.
Lincoln fields that one as he goes over the ideas we just finalized yesterday.
“Who will be your first guest?”
I smile. “You’ll have to listen to our first episode to find that one out.”
That garners another small laugh.
We’re asked about the release schedule and how we plan to engage listeners, when and where we’ll record, and who will be producing the podcast.
And then comes the question I probably should have expected, but not from who I’d expect it from.
“How will your family histories play into the podcast?” Ryan Rivera asks.
I glance over at Lincoln, and he’s glancing over at Ellie, who’s signaling something to him.
“It won’t,” Lincoln grits out. “We’ll be focusing on Vegas and football.”
“Not on the fact that you’re dating your co-host’s roommate? Because I’d imagine that would give you some great drama to discuss on air,” he presses.
“Vegas and football,” Lincoln repeats.
“Would you like to comment on the cheating allegations recently published about you?”
I could punch Ryan when he asks that.
What the hell kind of question is that—especially coming from a colleague of mine? It makes him look bitter and petty.
I’ve sat in enough of these press conferences that I know how to handle it, though.
“That’s unrelated to the podcast,” I say, and I offer a smile. “Do we have any other questions related to the podcast?”
We field a few more, and then we say our goodbyes as we tell everyone to tune in on Wednesday for our first episode.
Ellie meets us in a conference room to recap afterward, and Lincoln is pacing while I sit perched on the edge of a table, my fingers digging into the soft wood underneath.
“You both did amazing,” she says with a big smile when she walks in, and I’m not sure if it’s just lip service or if she really believes it went well.
“That fucking Rivera. Why did your boss think he’s the right guy to produce this?” Lincoln asks.
I shake my head. “Something about keeping my enemies close,” I mutter.
“He’s already trying to make us look like fools,” he protests.
“I won’t let him,” Ellie assures us both.
I don’t have a good feeling about it, though.
Ellie goes over a few things, and then she heads out. She does, after all, have other clients to take care of, and Lincoln has been eating up a lot of her time recently.
“Do you have a minute for a quick meeting in my office?” Lincoln asks.
I raise a brow. “A meeting?”
“A press conference plus you in a skirt make me horny.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I think I can make time for one of those kinds of meetings.” I follow him toward the back elevator, and once we’re sealed alone into privacy, I can’t help but murmur, “So press conferences do it for you, huh?”
