1
Caine
I was holding a cup of coffee in each hand when I used my hip to push the wooden door open, and I walked into the quiet office. Jenna looked up at me over the rim of her glasses from her seat behind the large desk scarred from years of use, frozen fingers poised above the keyboard. “Uh oh,” I said, setting the warm coffee on the desk in front of her. “I know that look and it’s never good. Did I have a cancellation or something?”
“Not exactly.” She took a sip of her coffee and I sat on the edge of the desk, waiting. Jenna had been with me at Crafted Image Media since day one, and there was no rushing her. When she let out a heavy sigh, my stomach tightened. “Caine, there’s an article about you trending online.”
“That sounds like good news.” I flashed her a smile, then brought the rim of the cup to my lips and savored the rich brew.
“Not this time. Someone spilled the beans about the club.”
“The Billionaire’s Club? I haven’t been there in years and I’m pretty sure my membership is common-”
“Caine, it’s about the other club,” she interrupted.
My stomach dropped and my smile slipped. She nodded before I could ask if she meant that club. “How?” I asked. “Everyone at Short Leash is discreet.”
“Someone wasn’t.” She turned the monitor around and there it was, in bold letters.
Caine Cole: Conservative Motivational Speaker or Sexual Deviant?
I stared at the headline, mouth slack, reading the words over and over again. Beneath it, my professional headshot was a picture of me taken leaving Short Leash, my trademark smile replaced with a scowl, eyes to the ground. “I didn’t see anyone take this picture.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” Jenna agreed. “The article makes it seem like you’re angry, but you’re obviously deep in thought.”
I pointed at the second picture. “There’s no sign there, above the door.”
“I noticed that. It looks like they photoshopped Short Leash above the door so they could prove that’s where you are in this picture. But anyone that frequents the club knows there’s no sign.”
Her words faded into the background, though I heard what she said despite my growing dread. I was two paragraphs in and I felt physically ill. They didn’t just have a picture of me leaving the club. With every passage I read, it was clear that someone had heard my entire conversation. “Did you contact the editor? Do we know who gave this interview?”
“They wanted to remain anonymous to protect their privacy,” she smirked.
“Yet they had no problem violating my privacy and editing what I said to make it worse.”
“Seems that way. I already drafted a letter demanding that they pull the article, but I didn’t know if you wanted to go that route?”
“No.” I shook my head, standing up and turning away from the screen. My hands shook as I ran them through my dark hair, so distraught it was hard to think. But I had to be smart about this. “No. That’s only going to fan these flames. I need to figure out another way to fix this.” I started pacing.
“Is it possible that it will just die down on its own?” Jenna remained in her seat, always the calm voice of reason, but this, this was bigger than anything I’d ever dealt with before. I could be reasonable.
I laughed, the sound was tinny and humorous, even to my own ears. “There’s no way. How long has the story been up?”
“About an hour.”
“The article already had over a thousand comments,” I added. “If you check social media, I bet it’s trending there, too.”
“I did. It is.”
“Damn.”
“What do you want me to do?” Jenna asked, lips tight.
I shook my head. “Nothing.” I stopped pacing and squared my shoulders. “Do I have any appointments today?”
“No. You’re clear until Thursday and that’s just a scheduling conference call with Midland and Associates.”
“Perfect. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off and put the away message on the voicemail and email. I’ll do the conference call from home.”
“It’s 9:00 a.m. on a Tuesday.”
“I know that, but it’s best if we’re out of the office while I figure out how to fix this. Use the vacation away message and backdate it for Friday. We’ll return to the office Monday.”
“So I’m taking the rest of the week off?”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
“I can think of a dozen reasons why not, but you’re the boss.” The keyboard clicked beneath her fingers, then she tapped a few buttons on the telephone while the computer shut down. “All right, it’s done. Last chance to change your mind.”
This time when I laughed, I felt a bit of the humor returning. “I’ll handle this. You deserve a vacation.”
She smiled at me as I grabbed her coat off the hook by the door and held it out for her. “I was thinking the same thing.”
We walked out of the office and rode the elevator to the underground parking garage that served the entire building. When the door opened and we stepped out, Jenna touched my arm. “If you need me, call me.”
“No. This is my mess to clean up. You enjoy the week. I’ll see you Monday.”
Her smile was tight, forced. She searched my eyes for a moment, then nodded and walked away, sensibly heeled shoes clicking on the pavement as she strode to her car, then drove away.
I hurried to my Audi A8, shutting out the world and just sitting there for a moment before I pushed the button to start the engine. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, but when I was done, the tension was still there. My business thrived on my wholesome, upbeat reputation. Waiting for this to blow over wasn’t an option.
Picking up my phone, I considered my next move for several seconds before I slid my thumb across the screen and the phone connected with the car’s audio system. I pulled out of the parking garage as Walter answered on the third ring.
“I guess you read the article,” he said without waiting for me to speak.
“I did. Where are you?”
“Work. I would ask where you are, but I have a feeling I know.”
“Can you meet me at Short Leash?”
“Of course. Any particular reason why?”
“I’m hoping to find out who leaked my private business.”
“I doubt it will lead anywhere.”
I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. “Of course it won’t, but I have to do something. Please, meet me there.”
“I’m already en route.”
“Thank you.”
“I will see you shortly.”
The line went dead and the radio kicked on. Classical music floated around the quiet cabin, but my nerves were frayed beyond the soothing powers of the sweet prelude. Even the promise of Walter’s calm presence wasn’t helping. My stomach was in knots and my emotions were churning just below the surface. I checked my reflection, not surprised that I appeared outwardly calm despite my inner turmoil. It was my job to put my best face forward, even being positive all the time drained the very life out of me. Short Leash was the one place I was free to let the façade go, if only for a little while. Now that wasn’t even a safe space anymore.