“Is there a problem?”
“If losing Scottie Banelo is a problem, then I’d say we have a huge sodding problem.”
“What?” My pen dropped to the floor and my stomach began to followed suit.
You’re on a warm, relaxing beach watching the waves go in and out. In and out. Thaaaat’s it. Everything is just fine.
I shook my head at Grier. “Surely, there’s been some mistake.” This made no sense. At Grier’s instruction, our marketing department had cashed in more than a few favors to secure a contract with Scottie Banelo as the spokesperson for our upcoming advertising campaign. A movie star—even if a minor one—wearing our new line of prescription sunglasses was just what the brand needed to catch the American public’s attention. And, not to mention, save our bottom line and keep me in the States.
“I’m afraid not. I’ve been on the phone with marketing since five this morning.” Grier’s eyes returned to her phone as she let out an even deeper sigh this time and read from the screen. “Viral Video Catches Hollywood Rising Star Scottie Banelo in Racist Tirade Outside Las Vegas Casino. Is Hottie Scottie’s career over before it even begins?”
My eyes widened as my boss’s words sank in and she turned the phone’s screen my way. Scottie Banelo’s face sneered up at me, his blond hair in its usual slicked-back style and a pair of Triumph Eyewear’s new Velocity prescription sunnies resting on the bridge of his nose.
For pity’s sake. Someone needed to teach that imbecile a lesson. Immature, I could probably withstand. Hateful was another thing entirely.
Although I was simply an executive assistant, the success of this company was important to me. I learned early in life to use my talents to their fullest and to never give less than my best. It was one of the only lessons imparted to me by my late mother that I could recall, and one that stood in direct contrast to my father’s preferred technique of wallowing in self-pity and blaming the world for his poor choices.
In the short time I’d been working for Triumph, Grier had come to depend on me, and I was determined not to fail her. “All right. We’ll just find someone else.” The confidence in my tone belied the quickening beat of my heart. We’d been lucky to get Scottie in the first place.
The almost hysterical nature of Grier’s responding laugh was unsurprising. “No problem. I’ll just ring up Brad Pitt and check if he’s had any cancelations.” Was it my imagination, or was Grier turning a bit green?
I stepped forward, returning my boss’s phone to her limp hand. We could do this. “You’ll be able to back out of the contract based on the morality clause, and we’ll begin a new search. I’m not saying it will be easy, but we have little choice at this point.”
Grier squeezed her eyes shut and I considered fixing her some tea and biscuits. It had always worked for Malcolm. “I know you’re right, Alice, but allow me a few moments to lose my mind first, would you?”
“Of course.” I set my notebook on her desk and rifled through my bag until I located the bergamot citrus spritz. A little calming ambiance couldn’t hurt. Small tricks like these helped me get by when I found myself in danger of descending in a panic spiral. Some quick visualization exercises, a bit of aromatherapy, the repetition of mantras like the one scrolling through my mind now that instructed, “Focus on the things you can control and discard the rest.”
“We’ve put all our proverbial eggs in Banelo’s racist basket and now we’re well and truly screwed. Corporate will shut us down for good before we’ve even had a chance to implement any of our dream initiatives.” She gestured toward the rows of cubicles on the other side of her door. “Not to mention, Sheila will lose her mind if she’s forced to move back to the Feldlands and break up with her boyfriend.” Another sigh. “How are you not out of your bloody mind?”
Adjusting my glasses and setting my shoulders straight, I exhaled. “Because it’s of no help, is it? I’d rather focus on a solution.”
She shook her head almost disbelievingly. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Practice.” I tossed a reassuring smile her way as my mind raced for ideas and my finger pumped soothing citrus essential oils into the air around us. “Surely the marketing team has some fresh ideas.”
Grier huffed out a mirthless laugh as she fanned the fragrant bergamot away from her face. “The only solution they’ve thought of thus far is for one of us to magically acquire a new famous best mate who owes us a giant favor.” Her artificial smile fell and her forehead connected with the desktop. “What are all the underprivileged kids going to do when they can’t see the chalkboard at school? I was so excited to start our pet project.”
“We’re not giving up, Ms. Vorhees!” I rounded the desk and put a hand on her slumped shoulder. “We’ll find a non-racist substitute, blow away forecasted sales, and be so flush that corporate will sign off on the charity campaign before you know it.”
Grier’s head rose just enough for her to lift her eyes to me. “You think?”
“I know.” I nodded and threw in another reassuring smile while my mind switched mantras, “You will not panic. You will not panic.”
Her head nearly connected with my chin as she bolted upright in her chair. “I didn’t even ask you how your friend is doing! I’m a complete bitch.”
My smile grew at that. “He’s doing wonderfully. They put in a stent and his heart is back to pumping more blood. The only issue now is convincing him to change his diet from that of an eighteen-year-old boy in the throes of a growth spurt.”
“At least something is looking up today. I’m glad he’s okay.” Both hands landed flat on the desk before her. “Now, let’s get busy dropping Banelo’s arse and finding someone better. I never liked his smile anyway.”
And that was that. It was time to get back to what I did best: shoving everything but the job aside and not letting anything fall through the cracks.
Chapter 3
Malcolm
The moment the voicemail engaged, I properly unleashed. “So, I’ll spare Ruby because I find it difficult to uphold resentment for any decent length against someone with such a fine pair of tits, but you’ll be getting her share of my ire. How could you not tell me Alice is in North Carolina with Ruby?! I hereby disown you as my sibling and will only claim Clara from this day forward. And forget about the new title I was considering for you. If you want to be Ambassador to Victoria’s Secret Underwear Models, you’d better learn to live with disappointment. Goodbye forever, you worthless excuse for a brother.” Finger poised to disconnect the call, I had a last minute thought. “And don’t forget to bring me some of Ted’s Pop-Tarts from D.C. The boxed ones here are rubbish.”
That should do it.
“Victoria!” My voice echoed off the walls of my sitting room where I’d been busy pacing.
Her face immediately appeared around the half-open door, eyebrows raised in expectation. “Sir?”
“Pack my bag and cancel my appointments for the next twenty-four hours.”