Page 40 of Pride
I expected Gold to argue back, but he just shrugged in response to my anger.
“You mean S.K.A.M.? Hehascome for me,” he replied like it was nothing. “The only difference is, I have a thick skin, and I don’t give a shit.” Then he sneered at me as the cogs in his brain started to work. “You don’t think he did that, do you?” He huffed a laugh. “Emma, seriously? Are you losing your mind?”
“It certainly looked like something he’d stage. And the reference to pride on the wall, that’s a little convenient after his performance.” I didn’t want to add that I knew where the heart had ended up. I knew he wouldn’t believe me anyway.
“You need to be careful, throwing accusations like that around. Do you want to get sued by one of the country’s wealthiest and most successful artists?” he spat back.
“He came for me first,” I seethed.
Gold huffed impatiently. “He’s a famous artist with a reputation to uphold. I doubt he’s running around on a murder spree in his spare time.”
I thought back to the last email he’d sent me, when he’d told me the K in his name stood for killer. I believed him. But I knewI was talking to a brick wall, standing here trying to argue with Mr Gold.
“Think what you like,” I sneered.
“I will,” Mr Gold replied. “Because that...” He pointed at his door. “Out there isn’t the work of an overpaid artist, it’s the work of a fucking psychopath.”
“You think?” I nodded dumbly at him, sarcasm dripping from my tongue.
“I know,” he snapped. “And when they catch him, we’ll have the story on the front of our newspapers. But that story won’t have your name attached to it. I think maybe we were a little hasty in promoting you to junior reporter. I don’t think you’re ready for the job.”
I could feel the heat burning in my cheeks as fury raged through me.
“I’ll tell you what I’m not ready for, having my words taken out of my mouth and replaced with yours. For your incompetence to land me a fucking stalker.”
Mr Gold shook his head, and I swear he huffed a quiet laugh as he replied, “Emma, if you ever want to succeed in this industry, you’ve gotta learn to roll with the punches, toughen up. You won’t last five minutes if you throw a hissy fit every time someone upsets you. So he sent you a few pissy emails. So what? Deal with it.”
“He’s stalking me. I’m not throwing a fucking hissy fit. This is my fucking life you’ve been playing around with, and you know what? It’s not happening anymore. I quit.”
“What?” He scoffed, and his sneer turned into a condescending laugh that I wanted to smack off his face.
“You heard me. I quit. Stick your job up your ass. I don’t need this. I’m done.”
“Well, good luck finding another job,” he shouted as I pulled his door open and marched back down the office with every eyeon me. “And don’t come to me for a reference. I’ll make sure you never work again.” Was his parting line.
I was fucked.
So fucked.
I didn’t have a job.
I couldn’t pay my rent.
But at least I might stand a chance at keeping my fucking tongue, or any other part of me, from being pinned to a wall for being associated with this fucked-up media circus.
As I walked back out into the crisp morning air, I told myself over and over again, ‘This has to be the end of it. No more. I can’t take anymore’.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EMMA
Isent a message to Gracie, telling her I quit my job, and asking if it was okay to stay a little longer on her sofa. I knew she’d be fine about it, but I needed to make her aware of what was going on. She didn’t text back right away like she normally did, but I figured she was busy at work. She’d reply when she had the chance.
I didn’t have a key to her apartment. Walking to her office was out of the question, too. It was about twenty miles away and in the middle of nowhere. The last place I wanted to go was my own house, after what’d happened. So, I decided I’d find a warm coffee shop to hide in until I could figure something out.
And then I remembered Alex Kingston, and my two o’clock appointment.
Good morning, Mr Kingston. I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have cancel our appointment today. Regards, Emma Belmont.
