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I answer question after question. I talk about how since last night, the girls have really stepped up. I talk about how lucky I am to have such supportive people around me.
I close the interview by saying, “What happened, happened. It was outside of my control. But I can control the way I move forward. That’s what I want to focus on.”
I’m proud of myself, and I truly feel like the bigger person. Maybe this attack has proved that I can be rattled and recover. Beat down, then get back up. And isn’t that a kind of strength?
When the producer calls cut and I stand to shake the sleepy tingles out of my left foot, there’s another surprise waiting: Josh. Standing in the shadows behind the crew. Watching me with his arms crossed, in joggers and a T-shirt that does nothing to hide his ripped torso. The fabric clings to every muscle, and I find myself thinking of the kiss we shared.
I give him a cute wave, then walk toward him.
We meet just outside the hot circle of light that surrounds the stage. To my astonishment, he leans forward and kisses me on the lips. It’s brief, just a peck, nothing like the heated exploration of the other night, but it still sends a waterfall of tingles down my neck.
I’m about to make a cheeky remark about wanting more where that came from when Josh turns. Someone is walking toward us—Andy. My stomach flip-flops; the timing couldn’t be worse. Josh only recently learned I’m a Synth. How is he going to react when he realizes this is the man who designed me? Shit.
“So...that’s, um, Andy. From WekTech,” I say quickly.
Josh looks blank, then realization dawns.
“The company that—” he begins as I return a tight nod.
“You must be Josh LaSala,” says Andy as he reaches us, swinging his arm forward to meet Josh’s shake. “So pleased to finally meet you. I’m Andy Wekstein, Julia’s—”
“I know who you are,” says Josh in an easy tone, like he knew all along.
I’m ridiculously grateful Andy didn’t finish his sentence—and that Josh is playing it so cool.
The two men are a study in contrasts. But beyond their many physical differences, Andy gives off the vibe of a kid playing dress-up in a grown man’s body, whereas Josh fully owns every inch of his muscled height.
They shake hands a little too long. I notice Josh’s flexed forearm...how hard are they pressing? When they fall back, they both start talking at once. Both stop. Josh chuckles.
Andy speaks. “I was just going to tell Julia, I’m headed out.”
“The meeting—” I prompt.
“Taken care of,” says Andy.
“Thank you,” I say with a tension-releasing sigh.
“What meeting?” says Josh.
“Boring legal stuff,” says Andy. I think he means to be friendly, but it sounds demeaning, like he’s suggesting Josh wouldn’t get it anyway.
“Just about the attack,” I clarify.
Josh’s eyes flicker between me and Andy, then settle on Andy.
“You don’t have to worry about Julia.” Josh’s voice sounds deeper than usual. There’s a gentle pressure at the small of my back. Josh’s hand. Warm, solid. “I already told her last night, I’m not letting anything happen to her. I mean that.”
Andy nods vigorously, like he’s really absorbing this. “I’m glad you said that. Really glad, man. I just—” He lays a hand to his heart. “Violence against women. I don’t have the stomach for it. You know? I feel pretty sick over this. And honestly, a little complicit.”
I feel embarrassed at Andy’s display of emotion, but Josh seems to take it in stride.
“She’s with me now,” he says in that same deep, steady tone, and even though I don’t say anything in response, an answering thrill moves through me.
The producer cuts into our moment. “Could we get you back up here, Julia?”
I signal for her to wait.
“Good to see you, Andy,” I say, leaning forward. Josh’s hand remains on my back as I brush my cheek against Andy’s in an air kiss.
