Remember When 2 by T. Torrest

I’d seen in Entertainment Weekly a few months prior. Trip had escorted Sonja Keating to a charity dinner for the Make-A-Wish foundation, but was snapped hours later leaving that same event with Hallie Simone. And who was that young blonde tart on his arm at The Viper Room in STAR over the summer? The question was out of my mouth before I had time to filter it. “You’ve been together a year? What about all those pictures of you with other women?”
       I realized I’d probably just insulted him, but Trip only smirked in defense. “Well, Jenna and I were only dating back then. We just got engaged last month.”
       “So, are you trying to tell me that it wasn’t really serious until a few weeks ago?” Saying the words aloud made me realize what I hypocrite I was, criticizing him when I was practically in the same situation.
       He swiped a hand over his face before answering. “Pretty much, yeah. Jenna was all flipped out about those pictures, which is kinda what forced me to pop the question. But it’s also the reason why we haven’t made any official announcements about it yet. She wants people to see us being exclusive for a while before we bother with a press release. You know, so they take us seriously. So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t write anything about it in your article.”
       Was he serious? “Trip, you do realize that you just confessed that groundbreaking little tidbit to a reporter , right?”
       “I thought I was confiding in a friend .”
       I’d heard about these conundrums during my journalism classes in college. We’d been warned that there would come a time when we’d be forced to choose between nabbing an exclusive and protecting someone we knew. While most general wisdom leaned toward printing the truth no matter what, I already knew that I wasn’t going to sell Trip out.
       So, I cut him a deal. “Okay, fine. I will give you my word not to print anything about your engagement in this article.”
       Trip looked relieved and started to say “Thank you”, but I cut him off with, “ But , you have to promise that you will call me the second you guys are ready to make an official announcement. I still have the exclusive on this, got it?”
       He leaned forward again, wringing his hands over his knees. “Uh, actually, Layla, that might be a problem.”
       “How so?”
       “Well, Jenna wants to tell everyone on-camera at the Oscars next March. Beforehand, during the red carpet interviews.”
       I looked at him in disbelief. “ Six months from now? You can’t be serious.”
       I was pissed. My first real scoop as a legitimate reporter (sort of) and it was slated to be given to Joan Rivers .
       Trip looked duly chastened by my words, but made a final plea. “Look, Layla. I can only ask that you don’t print the story. Jenna and I... well, we’ve had our problems. Letting something like this slip to the press could mean the end of us.”
       Sounded like a solid relationship. Not.
       I could only look at him tongue-tied and annoyed because I already knew I wasn’t going to print the story. I’d accepted that the information Trip had shared was meant for my ears only, and I wasn’t about to betray my friend’s trust. The fact that I was a “reporter” was secondary.
       But he must have mistaken my silence to mean I was mulling it over. “Can I beg you? Darling? Please?” Trip asked as he slid off the couch, pushed the coffee table aside, and dropped to the floor in front of me. He was grinning like a madman, clasping his fists in front of my legs and laughing out, “Look at me. Look what I’m doing for you, Layla. You’ve literally got me on my knees here.”
       In spite of my anger, I started cracking up. “If you start singing, I think I’ll have to kill you. Get up, you mook. You don’t need to beg.”
       Trip squished my face between his hands and planted a huge, smiling smooch right on my lips. “Thank you!