Paint Me Saved ✓ Book 1

42. Stay smiling

Zemira

The word interview was a sour topic for me. So much so that when Haley set it up with one of her close friends, I prayed for it to be a non-visual one.

From the day I accompanied Dad for his first televised interview, the limelight followed me. No amount of hiding took those focus lights off my life. Its intensity only grew stronger with my age. It wasn't until recently that I made peace with it, knowing my life would always be under scrutiny.

Haley and Kiera accompanied me to the lounge when Samuel walked in. The tall, slender man with neatly placed curly brown hair was Haley's college friend who owed her favors.

Deviating from our usual televised norm, we went for a podcast instead. It was Dad's idea to go with something simple rather than blowing up things that may not draw attention.

"Little sparks create fire too," he had stated while giving his assent to our little coup. Though apprehension gushed in my bloodstream, I surrendered myself to his assurance. My dad could never be wrong.

Samuel opened his tattered brown leather bag and out came two large silvery microphones, two distinctly marked headsets and a whole lot of wired tentacles. I watched in amusement as he attached and assembled everything.

"That's the mic." He tapped at the speaker and looked at me. "And these are the headphones for you to wear."

"Is that so," Kiera chimed, mocking him. I smiled courteously, knowing Samuel must be intimidated by her intense gaze.

"Appreciate the walkthrough, Samuel," I said, throwing a stern look toward Kiera. "Please ignore my friend. She missed having her caffeine fix today."

Samuel nodded, scratching his stubble face and wiping his sweat-laden forehead, looking away but occasionally meeting my eyes.

"Hey, Samuel," I leaned closer. "Are you nervous?"

As a podcaster, Samuel must have conducted many interviews. Yet, his body language rendered a different answer. He strummed his fingers together, gawking at his shoes.

"I haven't done an interview-" he began.

"But I've heard your interviews before..."

"What I meant to say was," he smiled into his chest. The wide, grey-eyed man looked up and leaned closer. "I haven't interviewed someone who was-"

"An industrialist?" My eyes widened. "A woman? What?"

"A woman such as yourself," he said, withdrawing his gaze. Laughter rumbled in my chest.

"I'm pretty sure that's not true. You did that interview with that one... umm... err... whatshername... ahh, RJ Hibiscus. She's kinda famous."

"It's not that." He peered at the ceiling, then down at the table. "I'm going to sound stalkerish but what I meant wasn't about fame or facial features. I was saying about this..." He gestured to the silhouette that was me. "About you and what you have come to represent-"

"Enough with the niceties, guys." Haley trotted inside the room, lending her hand for Kiera to take. With a stern nod delivered toward me and Samuel, she continued. "Please let me know if you have any technical troubles. And Sam," she waited for him to look up. "Only relevant questions...okay."

With his nod, both girls walked out.

I inhaled deeply. The artificial lemongrass scent from the air dispenser pricked my inner nose lining. As opposed to the guaranteed calmness on its label - Calming dew - I felt a turbulent force drumming on my chest.