“Please, don’t ever bring me coffee again! It’s making me sick!” I cry out.
He narrows his eyes at me, takes the coffee out of the office, and comes back with a cup of lemon tea. “My sister drank this when she had morning sickness,” he says softly. “She said it helped.”
“I’m sorry I yelled at you, Tyler. Please don’t tell anyone. We haven’t even told our families yet. The crazy thing is I’m sitting here wondering if I announced my pregnancy today if it would give the press something else to think about.”
“Well, you know how fickle the press is. They’re always moving on to the next big scandal. And if they thought you were pregnant with Knox’s love child while engaged to Aiden that would be a pretty big scandal. Can you imagine the headlines?”
“It would take the focus off Riley, Jennifer, and Captive. Make the board happy.” I touch my stomach. The thought of using Aiden’s and my baby, my pregnancy, to create headlines sickens me.
My cell rings again.
“Shit, it’s my grandpa.”
“Would you like me to leave?”
“No, it’s okay, Tyler.” I hand him my laptop. “Look around. Maybe it’s not as bad as I think it is.”
“Will do, boss,” he says, making himself comfortable on the couch.
“Hey, Grandpa,” I say into the phone.
“It’s a good thing I’m an early riser. Every single board member has called me this morning to raise a ruckus. They all want Riley’s head.”
“I’ve heard from a few of them myself. You always have good advice. Tell me what I can do to fix this.”
“You can’t fix it, Hotshot. He has to. I know he’s your best friend, but this is business. Don’t let your relationship blind you to what’s going on. It’d be different if it was a one-time thing but he’s starting to get the kind of publicity Captive doesn’t need. Between his relationship with Jennifer, the way he behaved at dinner and, now, this. You can’t bury your head in the sand. You have to deal with it. And I’m afraid the board is right.”
While I’m talking, Tyler is printing off pictures and laying them across my desk.
Riley shirtless and humping a Greek statue.
Riley and Knox with girls draped all over them in a party bus, cheesing for the camera, their eyes bloodshot and bleary.
Riley naked, sitting on the edge of a hot tub preparing to dive into the middle of about ten topless women.
Knox, wearing a shirt but no pants, being cuffed by a police officer.
Grandpa is still lecturing me, so I have to stifle my laugh. It’s pretty funny seeing Knox’s naked ass all over the news, especially when it was supposed to be revealed for the first time ever in the next Trinity movie. The studio is probably going ballistic about it.
“Your days at Eastbrooke don’t mean shit when it comes to business.”
Tyler lays a photo of a topless Jennifer sitting on Knox’s lap swigging tequila straight from a bottle on top of the ad mock-ups for Daddy’s Angel.
Something clicks.
“That’s it, Tyler. You’re brilliant!” I shout.
“Why’s Tyler brilliant?” Grandpa asks as Tyler goes, “I am?”
“I have to go, Grandpa. I’ll take care of it all. I promise,” I say, quickly ending the call.
“What are you going to do?” Tyler asks. “This looks really bad. Like so bad you may need to send them somewhere remote until it all dies down.”
“Our senior year at boarding school, we threw different themed parties every other weekend. One was Heaven and Hell.”
He tilts his head at me. “I don’t get it.”
“Shh. I’m still thinking it through. Will you go check on Vanessa? She should be here by now.”
I stare at the mock-up some more and suddenly know exactly what to do.
The board won’t know what hit them.
The press won’t know what hit them.
And, by the time we’re done, the board will be telling me to give Riley a raise.
And maybe even suggesting something I’ve been considering doing since I found out I was pregnant.
Vanessa strolls in, dressed to kill in a black pencil skirt, black spiked Louboutins, and bright red lips that match the bottom of her heels.
“Have you seen all the pictures? How the hell are there so many out there already? I have some ideas for damage control and I think I can get the photos with nudity taken down by calling in some favors, but I think the best thing to do is let it burn out on its own. The last thing we want to do is add more fuel to the fire. We’ll make them lay low . . .”
“I just thought of something that might allow us to add fuel to the fire in a good way.” I tell her my idea. “But I’m not exactly sure how to spin it. Any ideas on that?”