Chapter 21 Jamie #2
I shift on the couch, trying to ease the pressure on my lower back. The baby chooses that moment to roll, a slow, heavy movement that makes my breath catch. I press my hand to the spot, waiting for her to settle.
"Are you all right?" Glass asks, and there's genuine concern in his voice—or a convincing imitation of it.
"Fine. She's just... active today."
"She?"
Shit. We hadn't planned to, but it's out now. "Yeah. It's a girl."
Glass's expression shifts, softens into something that looks almost human. "A daughter. Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"I have to ask. is the baby the reason you're going public now?"
"Part of it." Carter takes over, letting me catch my breath. "But not all of it. We're going public because we're tired of hiding. Because the rumors about Jamie aren’t true, and we're not going to let them stand anymore."
"The whole stalker omega narrative."
"It's a lie." Carter's voice sharpens. "Jamie didn't pursue me. He tried to cut contact entirely. He changed his number, moved apartments, avoided every place he thought I might be. If anyone was obsessed, it was me. I kept finding ways to reach him."
"So you're saying you pursued him?"
"I'm saying I couldn't stay away. It is a prime match. I had no idea how powerful they are until I experienced it. But the idea that Jamie was stalking me, that he somehow orchestrated this…" Carter shakes his head. "That's not what happened."
Glass turns to me. "What would you say to people who question your journalistic integrity? You're having a baby with the subject of your biggest story. How can anyone trust your reporting now?"
I've been waiting for this one. "My exposé was published before Carter and I ever exchanged a single word. Every claim was independently verified by a legal team. My work stands on its own merits, regardless of what happened afterward." I hold Glass's gaze. "I'd publish the same story today."
Glass turns to Carter. "Does that bother you? That the father of your child is the man who has been making these claims about your family?"
Carter takes a long moment to answer. I can feel him choosing his words, weighing each one.
"Jamie did his job," he says finally. "He reported what he found. Whether I like what he found is a separate question from whether he was right to report it."
"So you're saying the exposé was accurate?"
"I'm saying Jamie is a good journalist. His work speaks for itself."
It's not a confirmation. But it's not a denial either. Glass knows it. The viewers will know it. The message is clear: Carter isn't defending his father anymore.
"Speaking of your family," Glass continues smoothly, "there are multiple ongoing investigations into the Crane finances. What's your position on all of that?"
Carter's hand tightens on mine.
"I'll cooperate fully with any investigation," Carter says. "Whatever comes out, comes out. I'm not going to protect anyone or hide anything." He pauses. "If my family has done what they are accused of, they should face the consequences."
Glass's eyebrows climb. "Even your father?"
"Even my father. No one is above the law."
The studio is silent. There’s no audience to gasp, no murmur of shock, just the camera operators frozen their equipment and Glass staring at Carter like he can't quite believe what he's hearing.
“And you? Are you above the law? It sounds like you’re letting your father be the fall guy for what may be quite significant crimes.”
Carter looks frustrated. His hand tightens in mine.
“I believe in honesty and public service. I genuinely do. I also want to believe the best of people. Sometimes, you want people to be someone they are not. I have never knowingly lied, but I do have a lot of soul searching to do. I think I’ve been lying to myself about a lot of things. ”
"That's a significant statement," Glass says carefully.
"It's the truth."
"Some would say you're betraying your own family."
"Not at all. We all have a responsibility to our families and our friends to be the best person that we can be. I'm only in a position to choose what I do from here."
I squeeze Carter's hand. He doesn't look at me, keeping his focus on Glass, but I feel his fingers tighten in response.
Glass shifts gears, sensing he's gotten what he came for. "Let's talk about the future. You're having a daughter. You're clearly together. What happens now?"
"We're figuring it out," I say.
"Are you in love?"
The question lands between us like a stone dropped in still water. I feel Carter turn toward me, feel the weight of his attention.
"We're getting there," I say.
Carter's smile is small, private. "What he said."
Glass lets the moment breathe. Then he leans back in his chair, something like respect in his expression.
"I've been doing this show for fifteen years.
I've had a lot of memorable interviews. The one we did six months ago was probably in my top five.
" He gestures at the two of us. "This one might be number one. "
"Happy to help your ratings," Carter says dryly.
"Oh, you have. Trust me." Glass turns to face the camera directly. "Carter Crane III and Jamie Dean, together for the first time since the interview that launched a thousand ships."
The red light blinks off.
We don't speak as we walk off set. My legs are shaking—I didn't realize how much until I tried to stand. Carter keeps his hand on my lower back, steadying me, guiding me through the maze of cables and equipment.
Georgia is waiting in the hallway. Her face is unreadable.
"Well," she says. "That was something."
"Good something or bad something?" Carter asks.
"Both. Your father is going to be apoplectic." She shakes her head. "You basically just told the world you think he's guilty."
"I told the world I'm not going to protect him. There's a difference."
"A very fine one." Georgia's gaze shifts to me. "You handled yourself well."
“Thanks.”
"It shows." She glances at her phone, frowning at something on the screen. "I need to make some calls. The clips are already circulating. By morning, this is going to be everywhere." She looks back up at us. "Get some rest. Both of you. Tomorrow is going to be... a lot."
She disappears down the hallway, phone already pressed to her ear.
Carter and I are alone. The studio noise fades behind us as we walk toward the exit.
"We did it," Carter says quietly.
"Yeah."
"Any regrets?"
Carter's hand is warm in mine. And the baby is kicking. For a moment, it feels like it is too much. Everything has changed so fast, but for the first time in months, I don't feel like I'm hiding.
"No," I say. "No regrets."