Page 18 of Big & Bossy

I scrolled the comments, my eyes burning as I read them one by one—some supportive, some mean, some attacking my body, others attacking my hair, and some of them actually praising me for putting him in his place. This was bad, this was really bad.

My phone lit up again, my mom’s face and her name, Gianna, filling the screen. A video call. It had to be about the news, there was no way she’d call me out of the blue like this. I declined the call.

Messages started pouring in, requests from reporters and shocked emojis from people I hadn’t spoken to since high school. My phone was buzzing out of control, unable to keep up with all of it. My mind couldn’t keep up with it either. How did he let this happen? Was this on purpose? What the fuck does he want with me?

“Mandy,” Harry said, his voice filtering in from somewhere on my left. I could barely move, couldn’t even open my mouth. Fight or flight had fully hit me now, and I’d done the one thing I always hoped I wouldn’t, the secret third option—freeze up. “Mandy, what’s going on?”

Shaking, furious, I turned my phone screen to him.

“What the…?” He snatched my phone from my hand, scrolling to a video and pressing play.

“I don’t know how I ever let myself love a man like you,” I heard myself say again. And again.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, scrolling.

My phone buzzed again in his hand, the screen lighting up with the same unknown number that had called me last week. I knew exactly who it was. I grabbed my phone back, swiped to answer it, and brought it shakily to my ear.

“Explain,” I hissed. “Now.”

A sigh from the other end.

“Jackson fucking Big, tell me what the hell is going on or so help me God?—”

“Calm down. It’ll be fine. We’ll fix this. I don’t know how this happened or how this got out but we will figure it out, okay? I’m in Chicago right now but I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Meet me at seven. I’ll send you the location,” he was rambling, his own voice shaken and surprised. I hated that it made me feel even an inch better about the situation.

“I don’t want to see you,” I lied.

“I get that. But we need to meet with my PR team, okay? First thing in the morning.”

“I want it fixed now,” I choked, my voice cracking. I could feel the tears building in the corners of my eyes. I didn’t want to cry, not about this, not about him.

“I know. I know, princess, but it’s getting late and there’s nothing we can do about it tonight,” he sighed. In the background, I could hear giggling and the clinking of glasses.

“Are you… are you celebrating this?” I snapped, sucking in a breath and holding it.

“No,” he said quickly. “My sister just got engaged. I’m sorry. This is horrible timing.”

It was too much. Far too much for me to deal with, too much for my already fragile heart when it came to him. “Okay,” I whimpered. A warm hand met my shoulder, rubbing me softly, trying to calm me. “Tell Tiana congratulations. But you better fucking fix this.”

Chapter 9

Jackson

The bags under my eyes were clear proof that I didn’t get a lick of sleep. Dodging questions all evening from my prodding family was hard enough, but trying to sleep knowing what Mandy was going through was worse. I’d taken the first private jet I could book—four a.m. I hadn’t even said goodbye to my family, quietly leaving the house and heading to the airport.

I clutched my cup of coffee in my hands as people started filing into the room. My entire PR team had flown in at short notice, and I’d waited until the absolute last minute to tell them where to meet. We didn’t need the press following them or Mandy, not when I was already being watched like a hawk. Another article about me had already hit by five a.m., a picture of me boarding the private jet, heading back to my girlfriend as they’d titled it.

Mandy stepped through the doors last, her wild hair up in a bun. Her eyes were as dark as mine, a cup of coffee in her hands. She wore her oversized NYU hoodie, the one she wore almost constantly back in the day, and a pair of joggers. Too early for anything else.

I’d booked an office space under a false name just outside of Boulder to give us enough privacy to deal with this.

“Hey,” I sighed, turning the office chair next to me to offer it to her. She didn’t even fight me as she collapsed into it, and even though I knew it was mostly because of her exhaustion, I wanted to believe that she was growing fond of me.

“Hi,” she mumbled. “Didn’t get any sleep either?”

I shook my head. “Not a second.”

“Is it bad that it makes me feel slightly better?” She breathed a slight chuckle, her eyes staring down at her cup, her name written in swirly writing along the top.

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