Disarm // Smashing Pumpkins

"How bad is it?" I ask Clinton. He'd messaged me soon after I shut down Emily's live recording, telling me to check in with him at 1600 hours, aka 4pm. Of course he already knew what went down. He's got an IT team that watches all of our clients' presence online. I'm sure he got an alert.

"I won't say it's bad, but it isn't good. Your face is plastered all over the internet with all kinds of speculation about your relationship with Emily."

I swear under my breath, rubbing my face and wishing I could crawl in a hole.

"Can't you scrub it? You've had the team do that before for Jacob and Char." Our friend, who also happens to be a client and co-star to Emily, was filmed with his girlfriend in their hotel room. They had no idea someone with a vendetta had planted a camera. The video was grainy and dark, but the world could see they were in an intimate position. Clinton's team pulled every screen recording and repost off the internet as fast as they could for months.

"New regulations. FCC won't allow it and even I can't find a work around. If one of my contacts can get me in a back door, I'll do what I can. But for now, we need damage control. Lay low."

"That's what we've been doing. Until Ms. Social Media influencer decided she needed to do a make-up tutorial on a live broadcast." If she had told me, I wouldn't have grabbed her phone in desperation and broadcast my full face in real time out to her followers.

"I warned you she was a handful."

I scoff. "I think I was the one with the premonition that this would go badly."

"Fair enough. Do you need backup? I can clear my schedule and put my foot down with her."

Clinton sounds like a dad, which he is. But his tween daughter is not the handful that Emily has been over the years. On the other hand, I think I'm starting to understand where Emily's coming from.

"She doesn't need to be handled. She needs a distraction. Being locked up like this is messing with her. We've blocked anyone from coming in and she's not going out, it's driving her stir crazy."

"We haven't blocked friends and family from visiting her." Clinton corrects me.

"We haven't?" I'm shocked at his statement. I thought we had. No one has come by at all. Wouldn't this be the perfect excuse to have some kind of girl spa day at home?

"Have you considered the fact she doesn't have many friends?" Clinton's question is quiet, something even he doesn't want to say out loud because it's sad to imagine. Living this kind of fish-bowl, celebrity life would be torturous without people you can trust in your circle.

And Emily certainly can't trust her mom.

But there are people in my life we can both trust.

"I may have an idea," I say, still wondering if I've finally lost my shit or if it's actually a smart move.

"I'm listening," Clinton says when I don't go on.

I glance down the hall at Emily's closed door. I don't know if she'll be up for this, but it could be just the escape she needs.

***

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Emily asks as we pull out of her garage.

"Pretty sure, yeah."

"That's not reassuring at all."

"The root word of reassuring is sure. Steadfast in confidence. I am sure, so you can relax."

Emily grunts from behind me. "Nerd."

I ignore her, mostly because I refuse to let her goad me into a reaction. But kind of because I secretly like being thought of as a nerd. I'd rather be a nerd than the type of guys I grew up with.

"I'm too cramped back here."

"Sorry, but we have to keep you out of sight."

I've instructed her to crouch down in the backseat in case we've got long lenses aimed at us. Which we most certainly do considering the firestorm that started after my full face on her account went viral. We can't be seen together in public, otherwise the rumor mill will spin out of control.

Clinton released a statement that Emily has round the clock security due to the recent public scrutiny and I'm simply one of her staff. The reputable entertainment news sites dropped it after that, but the self-described influencer journalists are taking the story and running with it.

So, I'm getting her away from her house without actually taking her out in public. She's covered up in the back of my Challenger and to any spying eyes, I appear to simply be taking a day off.

I hope this works.

"Are we there yet?" She whines from behind me.

"We just left."

"So."

I sigh. This is going to be a long drive.

"No, we aren't there yet. We're nowhere near there yet. In fact, we're about a four hour drive from there as we speak."

"Four hours! I didn't sign up for a four hour drive from hell cramped on the floor of your doom car."

"It's a Dodge. Perfectly safe."

"Says you."

"Says Car and Driver."

"Are you always this immature?"

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Only when I'm babysitting." I mutter the words but apparently not quietly enough based on the grunt from the backseat.

"Wait a few more minutes. You can get up from there when I get on the freeway."

"Fine."

I sense her desire to stomp her foot which is impossible in her current position. I feel bad.

But not that bad.

Ten minutes later I merge onto the freeway and give Emily the all clear. She immediately climbs over the center console and into the passenger seat with a loud humph before clicking her seat belt. I watch in my peripheral view as she crosses her arms and glares at the side of my face.

"Stop giving me those dirty looks," I tease.

She turns away from me, dropping her head back onto the headrest.

"Sometimes dirty looks lead to dirty deeds."

Her words are flirty but her tone is flat. Lifeless.

I'm not sure what kind of dirty deeds she's referring to but I don't think it's wise to ask.

"Do you want to listen to music?" I ask instead.

"Sure," she says with the same lifeless tone.

"Now who doesn't sound sure?" I laugh, trying to ease the strange tension in the car. I don't know where it came from but I don't like it.

"Actually, I'd rather guess our destination. Twenty questions and if I guess right you have to tell me."

I shrug. "Why not." I don't think she'll be able to figure it out but it will pass the time.

Emily rubs her hands together. "Okay, first question. Is it someplace I've been before?"

"Do you think I know every place you've ever been?" I laugh.

"Good point. Amendment: Is it someplace I could have been before?"

Damn. She's got me on that one.

"No."

"Ah ha!" She bounces in her seat for a couple of minutes.

"Are you going to ask another question?" I side-eye her, struck by the smile on her face.

"Yes."

Another minute goes by while she continues bouncing.

"Anytime now."

"I'm thinking."

"Does the bouncing help?"

"Yes, actually."

A few more minutes go by before she finally asks her second question.

"Have you ever been there before?"

I laugh, because if she only knew. "Yes."

"Hmmmm."

The bouncing stops, replaced by finger tapping on the dashboard. I'm not sure which is worse.

"Third question: Have you been there recently?"

I swallow the strange reaction I have to her question. "Yes."

Now she steeples her fingers under her chin.

"Have you been there many times?"

"Yes."

She nods her head, the questions coming faster now.

"Is it sentimental?"

"Yes."

"For good reasons?"

I nod, rather than answer.

"Do you miss this place?"

"Yes." The true answer is sort of, because I don't miss everything about it, but I do miss the important things. The important people.

Emily nods her head a few times but doesn't ask another question. Instead she pulls out her phone and taps on it. I realize she's syncing her phone with my audio system as music starts to play. I recognize the song.

"Smashing Pumpkins, huh? Didn't know you liked the vintage stuff."

"I've taken a liking to it recently." She leans against the car door and watches me.

"Are you going to ask me anything else? We haven't hit twenty questions yet."

"I already know the answer, so no use asking more questions."

"Don't you want to confirm you're right?"

She lifts a shoulder. "I know I'm right."

"Care to enlighten me?" I shake my head at her confidence. But I realize I don't doubt her. I bet she has figured it out. I have a feeling she can read people well.

"A sentimental place you miss that you've been too recently and often?"

"When you put it like that..." I wait for her to say it.

She must roll her eyes based on the tone she uses when she answers me.

"Duh, you're taking me to your hometown."

Something inside me lights up at how close she is without actually getting it. She didn't read me as deeply as I thought.

"Oh, so close."

"You're not taking me to your hometown?"

"Not exactly. Where I'm taking you is in my hometown. But my hometown is not the destination."

Emily sucks in a breath.

"You wouldn't." She sounds concerned. Desperate even. Which confuses me.

"I wouldn't, what?"

"Take me home!"

"Is that...a demand? You want me to turn back?"

Emily throws her hands up. "No! But you can't seriously be taking me to your family home, right? I'm reading that wrong, right?"

"Uh..." I don't understand the problem.

Emily buries her face in her hands.

"I'm not the take-home girl."

"So what?"

"Moms hate me."

"We aren't dating." My stomach feels funny when I say it.

"Doesn't matter."

"My mom won't hate you."

"Ha! We'll see."

"My mom doesn't hate anyone."

"So I'll be a first for her."

"Why are you so freaked out?" I've never seen her like this. She's usually stoic or devious. Conniving. Not nervous.

She slinks into her seat, limp. "I told you. Moms hate me. I don't need any more hate."

"And I told you my mom doesn't hate anyone. She'll pinch your cheeks and tell you how beautiful you are then drag you into the kitchen and cook you a meal."

Emily sighs. "Sure."

"I am."

"I'm not."

"Reassurance, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah."

I reach over and grab her hand, squeezing it.

"I would never put you in an awkward situation. We both needed to get out of your house and this was the safest spot I could think of. Trust me."

She turns to face me. She watches me for a minute before saying a word.

"Okay." Her voice is small and vulnerable when she finally speaks.

This girl may drive me nuts. She may be the biggest pain in the ass I've ever had to guard. But I feel ten times lighter knowing I just earned her trust.

Thanks for reading and voting and commenting! It helps push the story out to other readers...

I wasn't planning on this trip home, but the road trip banter was so worth it, right? And do you think his mom will love her or hate her? We'll find out next week.

The 90's rock continues with Smashing Pumpkins!

https://youtu.be/d1acEVmnVhI

See you next week!