Jack Who? (Book 1 Draft Version)

PART TWO~CHAPTER : 21

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 Slightly disturbed at the out of context scene, I sent a cautious look at Jack who was still sleeping and again bumped the volume.

"Are we seeing a slap mark on Jack Stone's face?" The one called Ed made a spectacle of gesturing his hands over his mouth, and of bugging his eyes at an over exposed picture of Jack as we exited the car. As the picture zoomed to the screen fifty times larger than life, there was a clear outline of fingers on his tanned skin.

"If you ask me, Jack Stone should have been slapped by some woman a long time ago!" Hilary flipped her hair with that demure female joke.

“Don't dare hate on my boy!” Ed flamboyantly huffed, and they both laughed. “So tell me Hilary, do you believe the OTHER smack going around?” Here he laughed at his own pun. “That this Marissa Duplei deliberately totaled Leanna Gavin's car?”

“I don't know, Ed. That seems a bit farfetched to me.”

'Thank you, Hilary', I thought, but clamped my teeth on my lip as the slanderous broadcast continued.

“Come on. Imagine it,” Ed urged. “You are a nobody from nowhere Mississippi and find yourself the fiancee of Jack Stone. How can you not hate Leanna Gavin, lingerie model, for the past she and Jack have?”

“I'm not saying I wouldn't hate her, Ed. I'm saying I wouldn't total the chick's car in some kind of rage.”

'Thank you Hilary. Damn you Ed.'

“At least I wouldn't do anything so drastic just because she is his ex. But, if she is not, then that is a whole 'nother ballgame Ed.”

“Well let's see Hilary. Does that look like a relationship that is ended to you?”

A still shot went up behind the celebrity gossip hosts, and I felt the physical pain in my heart of a mental stab in the back.

Jack and Randi at the drop party. It was clearly last night's party because the new Jackal album promo poster was also in the scene. Jack was leaning down to the other woman's level, intent on what she was saying with more than a slight 'holding' smile on his lips. His fingers even rested on Randi's shoulder. How had they been caught in a picture when I had never seen them together the entire night?

“So, viewers, what do you think? Text 0333 for Leanna and 0666 for Marissa. Who do you want to win this cat fight?”

Obviously, Jack had kept this embarrassing broadcast under wraps all day, and this is why earlier Dax had been the recipient of Jack's glare and had hurriedly powered off the portico television.

Muting the volume, I restrained the urge to fling the remote like a Frisbee at his head and instead tossed it to the bed as I exited. In the other room, I lay awake.

The 'Shut Up Scene' kept everything other ugly scene in perceptive. The audience of these shows was built on exaggerations and speculations. Jack would not be cheating on me, and he had no reason to lie to me about Miranda being his ex.

What I was perturbed about was that after numerous warnings about never letting my guard down at the party, he had let himself be caught in a picture with Randi. Couldn't he have respectfully stayed apart from the lingerina the entire night? 

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“Are you making chocolate chip pancakes?” Tristan leaned his forearms on the granite counter, and I frowned when I saw his knees on the barstool.

“Tristan Jack, sit down,” I reproved and waved a spatula his direction for emphasis. “And, I'm not finding any chocolate chips so we will just have normal pancakes. Cool?”