"What?" she asked again. There were two major trains of thought sharing the tracks in her brain right now; One was in shock about the son revelation and one was in shock about having been hit. They took turns.
When he was close enough, she kicked repeatedly at his side without much focus or aim. It wasn't the trained attack of a martial artist, but rather the flailing swats of an angered girlfriend. "You don't hit a popstar in the face!" Her hand was still covering her nose. She was a public figure, and she wasn't going to let anyone else see it until she'd had a chance to check it out herself. "Lucky I have a good makeup artist who accepts hush money," she mumbled.
Oh, right. Back to "Son? More than one? Were you married?" Or, ohgod. "Are you still married?" She was going to kill Carrie.