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CHAPTER EIGHT: KAYZ NEWS - PART ONE
When you want to know what’s going on in your world, tune into the most trusted name in local news.
Phil stared at his laptop at home. He couldn’t stop thinking about how upset Pip had been after the KAYZ interview. He was still angry that the anchor had ambushed her like that. Torn apart everything that she’d done. On camera.
And after she’d laughed and smiled and shaken Pip’s hand before the interview.
Phil had done his own digital research and found out that Wendy Graceland had done a slew of stories about the Foundation for Defending Families, an extremely conservative Christian lobby group dedicated to censoring anything and everything—from sex education to evolution to accurate history—that they deemed dangerous from the public. Wendy, using both KAYZ and her own social media platform, had elevated coverage for several FDF fundraisers and awareness campaigns. Clearly, the woman had bias.
At least, he understood now why Ms. Graceland was so interested in Infommunity’s expansion. She’d been looking for a sound bite for her cause.
And she’d found it in Tracy Meyers.
Phil had looked her up too. A psychology student at the local university, Tracy had been a semester shy of graduating. Her boyfriend, Kevin Leman, had been studying to be a career counselor. No one would have ever suspected them of being that kind of couple. Now Tracy was dead and her family was, according to the latest news stories, trying to see if there were criminal charges that could be brought against Kevin.
Phil had read a quote from Kevin—one of his rare public statements—saying how much he’d loved Tracy, how he’d never meant for things to end the way they had, and how much he wished he could take it back.
It was a mess. An unfortunate and avoidable mess.
Phil shook his head. This was why he didn’t want Sam involved in any of this. Even under the best conditions—with the best of intentions—he just couldn’t see how playing with dangers best left alone could end well.
Even if Sam was lucky enough to not end up like Tracy had, look at the way the world saw Pip. Phil had clicked through a few of the articles and blog posts being blasted over the internet about her. Taking leaked bits of the interview out of context—some even flat-out misquoting her—making her seem like some conscienceless, smut-selling pornographer whose only agenda was to take all the social ills of sex and foist them on the world. According to these sites, Pip Jones was, at best—like she’d said—a dirty punchline to an off-color joke or, at worst, a criminal who was peddling sex like cigarettes to children.
And, despite what Pip thought, he didn’t see her that way. He knew that Pip was smart and clever and witty as hell. She was his favorite person at the office. His cubemate and coffee-break bud. He knew she was a good person who didn’t deserve to be treated like this.
But, in the back of his mind, he also heard the voice saying that Pip had done this to herself. She’d stepped into that world, become enmeshed and enamored by the dark and danger of it. More than that, she’d put that part of herself out there. Had let her secret life seep and bleed and become her public persona. What did she think the world was going to think? Did she really think that people were going to take one look at the things she was into and care about anything else? Did she honestly think that anyone would take the time to look past the sensational and scandalous parts of her? How could anyone take her seriously after this?
Much as he felt for Pip—hated that she had to go through this—he wanted to spare Sam that kind of future. He never wanted anyone to look at his niece and see her that way.
———
Pip was grateful when Hayato and Max led her through the full playspace, out of the noisy club, and through to his offices that were attached to Donovan’s. It was nice knowing well-connected people.
Once in his law office, he sat Pip down on his long, leather couch as Max brewed some coffee. He chose one of the large chairs covered in the same luxurious black leather as the couch and studied her while Max set out the coffee before sitting in his chair’s match across from him.
He poured coffee for each of them, knowing exactly how both women preferred their drink. For a quiet, savoring moment, they enjoyed the fine, expensive brew in silence before Hayato asked, “So do you want to talk about whatever it is that made you call me today?”
Pip held her mug in her hand, letting the warmth against her palms calm her nerves. She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“If it’s bothering you,” Max reasoned, wiping lipstick from the edge of her mug before setting her drink down on the table again, “it’s not nothing. I’ve never known you to worry over trivialities.”
“It’s not about Scott Fischer, is it?” Hayato sipped slowly. “I know Peter was looking up his records this week.”
Pip straightened, suddenly more alert than she’d been all evening. “So he is a member here?”
“He petitioned.” Hayato shook his head. “Years ago. But couldn’t find others to vouch for him.” He frowned. “In fact, according to his file, we actually had a few members, who know him from other communities and encounters, who’d lodged complaints against him when I’d done some basic background checks.”
“What kind of complaints?” Pip asked.
He frowned. “Mostly, female partners whom he’d played with and quite a few whom he’d slept with without telling them he was married, as well as seeing multiple partners at the same time.”
Pip cringed. “Not good.”
“No,” he agreed as he slung an arm over the chair’s back. “But what’s worse is that there were at least two complaints against him that he’d crossed boundaries, pressing for more than was agreed upon without getting explicit consent first.”
Max, who’d just picked up her mug, set it back down on the coffee table with an indignant clank. “He violated someone?” she asked, cutting through Hayato’s legalese.
He tilted his head thoughtfully, his long, blond ponytail lilting to the side. “I don’t remember the exact phrasing—it was years ago—but with the way the file worded it, something nonconsensual clearly happened, but there were never any legal charges brought up.”
Which didn’t necessarily mean anything, Pip knew. “You didn’t get any details?” She was surprised, knowing the meticulousness of the man.
Hayato shrugged. “I may have, at the time,” he said as he set aside his drink, “but it’s likely the women asked the details not to be documented, so they weren’t. And what was in the file was more than enough to deny him membership.”
Which was good for the community. But Pip couldn’t stop thinking about those women, whose names and experiences had been erased and lost over the years. Pip wondered how many other stories from how many other women had gone untold.
And she thought about Sam. She wondered if—worried that—Sam was just another story waiting to happen.
Pip thought about Tracy Meyers again. She leaned back, resting her head against the couch’s back. “Do you ever wonder if it’s all really worth it?”
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