in this context. I couldn’t let him feel like he at any point was leading the interview or had the upper hand. He was at my mercy and he had to remember that. I had to remember that.
His personality was so dominant; it was hard to believe that he would really be the kind to roll over and let a woman dictate him, but he was going to be that guy and I was going to be that woman. If he wanted his name cleared, it was going to be on my terms. It was his story, but I was writing it.
“Uh huh. And I can't fuck another girl till the end of the season. I got it. You read me the riot act already. Let's get this over with. You’re late,” he said to me as I walked into the room. I wasn’t late. He was just early actually, to my surprise and approval.
“You’re on time. Keep this up and we’ll have no problems. You and I,” I said. He was already in his basketball shorts, but that was it. He didn’t have his jersey on. His body was lean and powerful. He was built for speed. Luckily for him, his body, built by his sport, wasn’t that bad to look at. Very luckily for him, considering his track record with the ladies.
He looked good, but I wasn’t about to tell him that . There was no way he didn’t hear that often enough to be sure of the fact himself. He didn’t need to hear it from me. Besides, I couldn’t say it, not with the sort of relationship that we had. Not when I wanted to get the truth out of him.
He wasn’t even my type, anyway. Too tall . Too much of an asshole. Too cocky and arrogant. Too much of a whore. Was it bad that he was still appealing despite all the glaring character flaws? I understood the appeal, sort of, but that wasn’t what he or I were here for.
“I don’t have to tell you why we’re here, do I?” I asked, turning my recorder on and taking a seat next to him.
“Because you are intent on making my life a living hell?”
“Be serious, Dante.”
“I don’t know, might be hard . This reporter lady made me promise her that I wouldn’t party or chase girls for as long as she was writing about me. You can understand that I’m a little bit on edge, can’t you?” he said sarcastically.
“All that irritation is the toxins leaving your body,” I shot back facetiously. He rolled his eyes. “So let’s start.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Are you currently in a romantic relationship?”
“What?” That one took him by surprise. I waited for him to answer and saw that he would need some encouragement before he was able to.
“Are you currently in a romantic relationship with anybody?” I repeated.
“No. What does that have to do with anything?”
“The presence of a romantic partner would strengthen your case. In one way, if you had someone you were dating, you would be able to plead that you didn’t know the woman because you were dating someone else. Also, a girlfriend or wife or very faithful fuck buddy would be able to vouch for your character and back it against a woman trying to defame it.”
“Are you trying to lecture me for not being in a stable monogamous relationship?”
“I ask the questions. Not you. Who was that woman?”
“I did not fucking do it.”
“Mm-hmm. You have told me that several times now, and each time I have told you that that just won't cut it.”
“That’s all there is to it, TMZ,” he said. “I’m sorry I can't give you a story because there just isn’t one there. I don’t know that woman, and I didn’t do anything to her.”
I looked at him.
“What? You don’t believe me? Are you going to make me swear on a Bible or something? Am I on trial?”
“I believe you, but you need to give me more than that.”
“There is no more.”
“Why should anyone else believe you?”
“Because I didn’t do it. That’s not enough? I have nothing else to say.”
I looked at him and wondered why he had to make this so
His personality was so dominant; it was hard to believe that he would really be the kind to roll over and let a woman dictate him, but he was going to be that guy and I was going to be that woman. If he wanted his name cleared, it was going to be on my terms. It was his story, but I was writing it.
“Uh huh. And I can't fuck another girl till the end of the season. I got it. You read me the riot act already. Let's get this over with. You’re late,” he said to me as I walked into the room. I wasn’t late. He was just early actually, to my surprise and approval.
“You’re on time. Keep this up and we’ll have no problems. You and I,” I said. He was already in his basketball shorts, but that was it. He didn’t have his jersey on. His body was lean and powerful. He was built for speed. Luckily for him, his body, built by his sport, wasn’t that bad to look at. Very luckily for him, considering his track record with the ladies.
He looked good, but I wasn’t about to tell him that . There was no way he didn’t hear that often enough to be sure of the fact himself. He didn’t need to hear it from me. Besides, I couldn’t say it, not with the sort of relationship that we had. Not when I wanted to get the truth out of him.
He wasn’t even my type, anyway. Too tall . Too much of an asshole. Too cocky and arrogant. Too much of a whore. Was it bad that he was still appealing despite all the glaring character flaws? I understood the appeal, sort of, but that wasn’t what he or I were here for.
“I don’t have to tell you why we’re here, do I?” I asked, turning my recorder on and taking a seat next to him.
“Because you are intent on making my life a living hell?”
“Be serious, Dante.”
“I don’t know, might be hard . This reporter lady made me promise her that I wouldn’t party or chase girls for as long as she was writing about me. You can understand that I’m a little bit on edge, can’t you?” he said sarcastically.
“All that irritation is the toxins leaving your body,” I shot back facetiously. He rolled his eyes. “So let’s start.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Are you currently in a romantic relationship?”
“What?” That one took him by surprise. I waited for him to answer and saw that he would need some encouragement before he was able to.
“Are you currently in a romantic relationship with anybody?” I repeated.
“No. What does that have to do with anything?”
“The presence of a romantic partner would strengthen your case. In one way, if you had someone you were dating, you would be able to plead that you didn’t know the woman because you were dating someone else. Also, a girlfriend or wife or very faithful fuck buddy would be able to vouch for your character and back it against a woman trying to defame it.”
“Are you trying to lecture me for not being in a stable monogamous relationship?”
“I ask the questions. Not you. Who was that woman?”
“I did not fucking do it.”
“Mm-hmm. You have told me that several times now, and each time I have told you that that just won't cut it.”
“That’s all there is to it, TMZ,” he said. “I’m sorry I can't give you a story because there just isn’t one there. I don’t know that woman, and I didn’t do anything to her.”
I looked at him.
“What? You don’t believe me? Are you going to make me swear on a Bible or something? Am I on trial?”
“I believe you, but you need to give me more than that.”
“There is no more.”
“Why should anyone else believe you?”
“Because I didn’t do it. That’s not enough? I have nothing else to say.”
I looked at him and wondered why he had to make this so
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