He sighed. “I don’t like seeing powerful men take advantage of na?ve, young women.”
She folded her arms again, as if trying to protect herself from his negative words. “That’s not what’s happening.”
“Isn’t it though?” He cocked his head at her.
“No.”
“Did I lie to you about his being engaged twice previously?”
Nicole licked her lips. For the first time since he’d begun talking to her, she was feeling uncertain. It was true. The things he’d said about Red Jameson had turned out to be accurate. “Just because you told the truth once, doesn’t mean you won’t lie to me now.”
Anderson grinned. “Smart girl.”
“Smarter than you think.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and she thought she sensed some anxiety on his part now. “The smarter you are, the better the chance that I can get through to you.”
“Say what it is you have to say, or I’m leaving.”
He sighed. “I really hate this part.”
“No you don’t.”
Anderson smiled again, wider this time. “Maybe not as much as I pretend. Nonetheless, I’m going to put my cards on the table, Nicole. Red Jameson is playing you for a fool. This is all part of a marketing campaign that he and his staff concocted months ago.”
Nicole’s insides shriveled and twisted at his words. Instinctively, she thought he was lying. “I don’t believe you.”
“Oh, but I have proof.” He dipped down into his little satchel and produced a few pieces of paper, handed them to her across the table.
Her nose wrinkled in distaste. She didn’t even want to touch anything this man had handled, but she needed to see his so-called evidence.
The papers contained what looked like email printouts. The email addresses were clearly from the Jameson International email server. Red’s email address was in there, as was Talia Ferring, from the marketing department.
Talia—wasn’t that the woman who had called Nicole a hobo that one day outside of Red’s office? Nicole thought. Quickly, Nicole scanned the email chain, and her eyes widened with shock at what she was reading.
Red’s first email was like a knife through her heart. It said:
T,
We need to do something different with my image. I’m tired of always being discussed in the media as if I’m some modern Don Juan, running around trying to get rich and famous women out of their Oscar de la Renta gowns and into my bed. And beyond that, I want to take the Jameson brand itself in a new direction. But I need help. I need you to come up with something new for me. I’m tired of doing the same old photo shoots and the same old interviews where I smoke cigars and drink scotch and take these writers out in my car and drive fast through the streets of New York.
Ideas?
-Red
The response from Talia was simple.
Maybe you should go out and find the most average girl in all of the country and start dating her? The public and the paparazzi would love it.
-T
Red’s response was positively jubilant.
That’s an incredible idea, Talia. You’re a genius. It reminds me of Rocky, when Apollo Creed randomly picks the Italian Stallion as his next fight because he wants to give an everyman a chance to win the title on July 4th. Next steps for this to become a reality?
Talia responded yet again.
Not sure. We need to select some candidates for you. Maybe we’ll use a casting service.
Nicole couldn’t bear to read further. She folded the papers in half. “I’m keeping these,” she said, her voice hardly audible.
Anderson studied her expression. He was no longer smiling. “So you see, maybe I’m a better friend to you than you give me credit for.”
“No. You’re still an asshole.” She stood up and started to walk away.
“Everything in there is true,” he called out, but she just kept walking.
***
After reading those emails, Nicole wasn’t sure what to do. She thought of a million different things—taking her engagement ring off and handing it to a receptionist to give back to Red. Or better yet, throwing the ring down a sewer grate, quitting her job without a word, and moving home.
But then it occurred to her that if she did any of those things, she’d have learned nothing from the last two months of her life. If Red was using her, then she needed to confront him about it like an adult, not run away like a child.
She started back to the office, walking with her head held high. Just then, she heard voices. “There she is!” someone shouted.
Next thing Nicole knew, there were three or four guys taking pictures of her and asking her an incessant stream of questions as they snapped their pictures.
“Nicole, how do you feel knowing that you’re a pawn?”
“Nicole, look over here.”
“Were you in on it?”
“Did Red Jameson make you an offer you couldn’t refuse?”