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“Fair is fair,” he said, winking over at me.
I watched as a middle-aged man appeared on Sam’s phone screen, his skin tan, and his hair salt-and-pepper gray. He was wearing glasses with no lenses, a graphic t-shirt with the phrase I Hate Stupid People plastered across its front, and an annoyed expression that seemed like a permanent feature.
“Sam! Where the hell have you been?”
“Good morning to you, too, Anthony,” Sam replied. “And you know where I’ve been. I’m trying to reconnect with nature out here in Virginia—”
“Did you get started on that divorce feature?”
“Absolutely not.” Sam scoffed. “I’ve been in the middle of a storm, Anthony. A hellish one. I was a little more focused on staying alive than writing about the deaths of celebrity marriages—”
“You know timing is everything, Sam! You know that!” Anthony sounded disappointed. “And you’re my top guy. If I can’t depend on you to stay on track, who else am I supposed to rely on?”
“How was I supposed to stay on track during a literal storm, Anthony?”
“Excuses, excuses, excuses.” Anthony rolled his eyes. “Anyway, because you’re my top guy, I’ve got your back. Don’t worry.”
“You’ve got my back?”
“Yep. I already have a call lined up with Wendi Z. She’s ready to go in the next few minutes.”
“The next few minutes—Anthony, what the hell? When were you going to tell me about this?”
“Probably in the next few minutes.” He chuckled, like it was all a joke. “What are you so worried about? You’re camera ready. You’re always camera ready.”
“Anthony, I don’t even have my angle yet. I really don’t think this is a good idea—”
“It’s showtime!” Anthony exclaimed as he ended the video call.
Sam turned toward me with a grave look on his face. “I am so sorry but you’re about to watch me completely embarrass myself in front of a very famous person.”
“You’re not going to embarrass yourself,” I reassured him. “You’ve got this, Sam. Anthony made it sound like you do this all the time.”
“That’s because Anthony is a little overconfident in my abilities—”
“No offense, but from what I know about you, it sounds like you’re a little underconfident.”
“No! We don’t have time for one of your Dom mind tricks right now!”
“You’ve got this, Sam,” I repeated, as I shifted closer to him on the couch, taking his face between my hands. “I know you do. I believe you do.”
“Goddammit,” he cursed underneath his breath. “You really believe in me, don’t you?”
“I do.”
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get out a word, his phone started to ring again. He let out a shaky breath as he reached for his phone, even though his nerves didn’t seem to show on his face as he plastered on a bright smile.
“Wendi Z! Oh, my God! How are you doing babe?!”
I wasn’t familiar with Wendi Z’s work, but she absolutely emanated fame. There was just something about her casual, slicked-back, black bob, the way her makeup looked like it’d been applied by a team of professionals, an air about her that felt rehearsed to a T. Still, she seemed happy to see Sam, her expression relaxed and welcoming.
“Sam the Man!” She greeted him, excitement lining her tone. “I’ve been doing okay. How have you been doing?”
She squinted before she went on. “Are you… at a cabin? What the hell? Since when do you leave your apartment? Since when do you leave Atlanta?”
“Okay, first of all, for all you know I’m still in Atlanta—”
“Nope. I can tell by the trees,” she interrupted with a grin. “I spend a lot of time at those nature writing retreats, Sam. I know the woods when I see them.”
