Page 16 of Salvaged Hearts

Reggie collapsed into the formal leather loveseat shoved against my office wall behind a deep green leafy plant that Ibelieved Alessandra had dubbedBrenda. With a fatigued sigh, he demanded, “At what point will they find a new target? Haven’t we exhausted them by now?”

“Evidently not,” Alessandra responded, leaning back and crossing her legs primly, eyes boring holes into my profile.

“What are they attempting to hit us with now?”

“Not us,” I corrected. “Me.”

Reggie’s eyes slid to Alessandra as she said, “They were looking for a statement about an embezzlement case against Mr. Hart.”

“What embezzlement case?” He snapped, turning his full focus on me, dripping with disapproval.

“There is no embezzlement case, Uncle Reggie. You can confirm with legal. Nothing’s been served. They’re blowing smoke. My insider gave me a head’s up something ugly was coming down the line, but I didn’t know what.” Admittedly, this isn’t where my mind went. They could be going after Jax’s and my operation, and that idea was somehow worse. Likely, it was that sphere I needed to look at once we had damage control lined up.

Reggie pursed his lips, staring me down for a beat before turning Alessandra’s direction. “Ms. Rhodes, please excuse us. This is a family matter.”

Alessandra lifted her stare to mine expectantly, her shoulders relaxing when I obliged.

“She stays.”

Reggie shifted uncomfortably before shooting a less-than-friendly glare in her direction. “This isn’t a subject I’m comfortable discussing in front of the help.”

“Reggie,” Ollie scolded, sounding just as aghast as I was.

My skin heated. Not that I had a right to be aggravated on her behalf when I’d been more heinous not thirty-six hours ago. Her irritated scoff was punctuated by something that sounded alot like “Apple.Tree.” But as she rose, snatching her discarded blazer as she moved past me, I grabbed her wrist, holding her in place as her face snapped up.

“I trust her,” I declared simply. The words were for our Chairman, but my eyes locked on hers. “My office, my reputation, my right hand. Ergo, shestays.” There was no room for negotiation in my tone—or the implied order that passed between her and me—but just for good measure, I added, “Alessandra has been spinning PR slip-ups and fixing media messes for this company for the last few years, and does it with the brutal, unforgiving finesse of a Hart.” Her eyes widened before she smoothed her expression out. Lifting my gaze to my Uncle’s, I continued, “The Martinson scandal?” I waited for the realization to dawn on his drawn face—one of our clients had made the stereotypical fuck up that resulted in scandalous private surveillance photos with a hooker a year back. “Alessandra was the mastermind behind making that go away. If there’s smoke, she’s the one that will find our fire.”

For the briefest flash, I thought he looked impressed, but that assumption was dashed as he said, “With all due respect to Ms. Rhodes and her finesse forfaking adeep fake, I don’t see how her skill set will help diffuse an allegation this serious. We need to call a war room.”

“With all duerespect,” she practically hissed the word, “I already have. Our security, legal counsel, forensic accountant, and PI are due within an hour. The rest of the board will be in by noon. I have a third-party cybersecurity contact on standby who has already signed our NDA. Our contact at theDailywill be here at two.”

It was damn hard not to smile at that. She still hadn’t removed her wrist from my hold, so I gave her an approving squeeze. Someone had been paying very close attention while we put out prior fires. But Reggie wasn’t done.

“As for aPR spin? What in the hell do you thinkshecan come up with that would overshadow America’s most eligible bachelor being accused of robbing his own company? The only thing that could make a splash big enough to swallowthatwould be a royal wedding,” he jabbed with a graveled laugh.

I gingerly released Alessandra’s wrist, relieved when she didn’t flee. Her eyes were calculating when I glanced down to where she stood beside me. Not scared. Not accusatory. Like the wheels in that pretty head were turning a million miles a minute. It was mesmerizing to watch, and as those blue-grays landed on me, churning with intensity, I realized I’d stopped listening to my uncle in my attempt to decide if she was truly an ally.

Tuning back in, I heard him jab, “Seeing as the last time you were seen with a woman other than your cousin was before your father died, and those gossip rags have been speculating whether you’re a closet gay, I don’t think you have that option. As for today, if we’re about to have a board meeting, I need to prepare.”

“The last five years’ internal audits are in your inbox, as is theDaily’ssalacious history targeting your family,” Alessandra said matter-of-factly. Now,thatexpression on my uncle’s face was respect. She seemed to see it too, explaining, “If you’re proficient at anything in a family my size, it’s organizing chaos and herding cats. I keep files like my life depends on it.”

“Ours might,” Ollie muttered under his breath as Reggie reassessed my assistant.

“Thank you,” he begrudgingly murmured. Despite his bigoted traditions and distaste for the middle and lower class, there was nothing my uncle took more pride in than our family name. It’s why he kept the bad blood between him and my father under wraps. Reputation superseded justice. That was precisely why I was hoping he would be on my side for this.

“Let’s reassure the board, dot our I’s and cross our T’s, and I’ll get it handled,” I said firmly, shifting away from mysuddenly-ballsy-as-fuck assistant and walking to open the door, gesturing for Reggie to cross the threshold. “The board is going to expect you to be ahead of this. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to consult with my head of PR. This is nothing new—certainly nothing we can’t make go away.”

My uncle practically growled in frustration. He shook his head as he pulled out his phone, but he surprised me by getting right in my face as he stepped through the doorway. “You better know what you’re doing, boy. This is no joke.”

“Am I laughing?” My response was pointed. But his perpetual refusal to acknowledge the value I added to this company and treat me like a child was exhausting.

Blowing a harsh breath out of his nose, the man stalked from the room. Hopefully, he’d use a bit of that temper to sort out what the hell was going on.

When I closed the door and turned to lean against it, Alessandra was watching me skeptically from where she was braced on the desk.

“You really called a war room?”

She crossed her arms below her chest. “Am I your barista or your PR wizard? You can’t seem to make up your mind.”

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