Page 103 of Challenge Me

“Will you tell me about your story to cheer me up?”

“No.”

I stuck my lip out. “But I’m sad, remember?”

“Liar.”

“Why can’t you be gullible like other kids?”

“I don’t know.”

Spotting my target, I veered in that direction. “Whatever. Until next time, okay?” I saluted with two fingers, and Mal nodded once before she ended the call.

I continued until I reached the tall table where Clara and her crew were posted. She looked at me in surprise, but it quickly shifted to interest. Maybe she wanted to fuck me, and that was why she thought it was a good idea to poke at my relationship with Amir. Though I knew that wasn’t the case, it was funny to think about, more so because she’d started her mission with Trav, who wouldn’t give her the time of day for a feature.

“I knew you’d be crawling around here somewhere,” I said brightly.

She stepped around the table, directing her cameraman to face me. “Remi, this is impeccable timing. We were just going online for the seventh-inning stretch.”

“Oh, are we live? Perfect.” I looked at the camera. “Hey, everyone. Calm down, it’s just me. I’m sure it’d be much more exciting if Clara could get McKinney on here, eh?”

She gave me a bitter smile. “Perhaps we can get a statement about your little incident with Mallory last week.”

I cocked my head. “Yeah, totally. We were having a great time, which I’m sure you captured on your cameras, but of course you won’t post that.”

“Losing a child is quite an interesting devolvement from ‘a great time.’”

I waved my hand dismissively. “She got away from me. It happens.”

“Got away from you. That sounds a bit like what a kidnapper would say.” She let out an innocent laugh, and I followed with my own even faker laugh.

“Yeah, you’ve really got me pegged, don’t you? Sorta like that husband of yours.”

The smile fell from her face. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Sure you are.”

“Let’s move on—”

“See, I figured there had to be a reason you target gay men.”

She scoffed. “I write about more than McKinney and Darya, you know. I think you should do your homework.”

“Oh, I have. Tell me . . .” Unlocking my phone, I played the Grindr notification sound. “Do you recognize this?”

Judging by the twitch in her jaw, I thought she might.

“For your information,” I continued, “I have an MBA. I’m not some uneducated bum slinging drinks, but I digress.”

“You grew up in California. Maybe you can shine some light on how you got here.”

“A plane. Hope that helps.”

“And—”

“Four years ago, you filed for divorce,” I interrupted. “Is it because you caught him with a pole in his ass? Strange you didn’t go through with it. If you think he’s reformed”—I laughed, tipping my head back a little—”I’ll tell you something. They never are.”

“Mr. Keane, this is highly inappropriate.”