Page 31 of Pride
“I’ll stop you there, Emma. I suggest you take the day to think about this. Because if you think I’ll stand by and let you slander my name in this profession...”
“Like you’ve done with mine?” I added, but he ignored me.
“If you make waves,” he said, glaring menacingly at me. “If you quit this job and threaten me, I’ll make sure you never work again. You won’t even be able to scrub floors for a living when I’m finished with you.”
I stood for a moment, my body shaking with anger, my mind a jumble of hatred, loathing and confusion.
I needed this job.
I needed the money.
I barely made my rent payments every month as it was. Okay, I could’ve sofa-surfed for a week or two, but I had no savings. If Ididn’t get another job, and let’s face it, in this economic climate, jobs weren’t easy to come by, I’d be destitute. I had to bide my time. Play smarter. Mr Gold’s luck would run out sometime. It had to. And when it did, I wanted to be here to grin at him, like he was grinning at me right now.
“Emma,” he tilted his head, faking empathy. “Enjoy the notoriety this story gives you. It’ll be fleeting, trust me. They soon move onto another car crash.”
And that’s exactly what it felt like. A car crash, and I was hanging out of the vehicle with every degrading part of me on show for people to gawp at.
“And maybe turn in a story of your own that’s worthy of the next issue. You have been promoted to junior reporter, after all.”
I swallowed, not sure how to respond. I doubted Alex Kingston would invite me to Sunford after this to write a piece on his art collection.
Mr Gold flicked his hand at me and went on, “I have work to do. Close the door on your way out.” And then, with his eyes on his computer screen, as he waited for me to leave, he said, “Oh, and I have a board meeting at two, make sure you’re not late to take the notes.”
I huffed and shook my head.
Promoted to junior reporter, was I?
Yeah, right.
How many reporters in this office took minutes at meetings?
None.
I hadn’t been promoted. He was just saying that to placate me. And knowing that, made me more determined to write something that’d blow his shitty trolling story out of the water.
I turned and walked out of his office, even though I had so much more that I wanted to say.
“Tough morning?” Dan asked as I sat down and started to work.
“Tough fucking life,” I couldn’t help but respond.
After a few hours of burying myself in my work and trying to ignore the jealous stares from around the office, I heard my phone buzz in my handbag. I reached down to take it out and see who’d messaged me. The screen told me it was from an unknown number. I had to admit, my nerves spiked a little as I tapped to unlock the screen. And then I opened my messages, and when I saw the first line, my nerves exploded.
Emma, it’s Alex Kingston. I wondered if we could talk?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EMMA
Emma, it’s Alex Kingston. I wondered if we could talk? I hope to hear from you soon.
It wasn’t the most telling message I’d ever received. It wasn’t the worst, either. I had no idea what he wanted to talk about, and I was nervous to find out.
Had he seen the second article?
And how did he get my private number?
I guess men like him, rich men, had their means, but it still surprised me.
