Page 69 of Dirty Little Secrets
“I’ll handle it,” I state, tossing the newspaper back at Javier. “It’s fine.”
He chokes out a baffled scoff. “Fine? You think this is fine?” He opens the paper and reads, “The incident has left critics questioning the CEO's mental stability and ability to lead the company.” He glares up at me. “Does that sound fine to you?” I bite my tongue as Javier shakes his head, disappointed in me. “You know, Damon, given your behavior these past several weeks, the tabloids aren’t the only ones who are questioning your ability to lead.”
My eyes narrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means the board has lost faith in you,” he says, sighing. “It means that?—”
“They want me to step down?” I ask through restrained emotion. “Is that what they want?”
“Maybe it would be best.” Javier peers down at my father’s grave. “Maybe it’s time to pass the reins to someone else. Someone who…” Javier clicks his tongue. “Someone who cares.” He looks back at me. “It does not appear that you have any desire to see this company prosper.”
“I made one mistake,” I grunt. “And I willfixit. The board has no right to ask me to step down. I still hold the majority of the voting power.”
“Fix it?” Javier asks. “How do you plan on fixing it, Damon?” He waves the paper in front of me. “Unless you have the ability to go back in time, this is not something you can fix. It’s out there, printed for the whole world to see. It’s a PR nightmare.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we have an entire department dedicated to dealing with shit like this, isn’t it?” I say, fishing my phone out of my pocket. “I will handle it, Javier. Trust me, okay? I will handle it.”
Javier looks at me skeptically but nods. “Alright, Damon. I will trust you. One more time. But if you don’t fix this, if you don’t turn things around, then it will be time to step down. This is a priority, understand? It takes precedence over everything.” He glares at me, cold. “Andeveryone. You need to keep your personal life away from this company. Is that clear?”
“This wasn’t her fault,” I state, straightening my shoulder. “She didn’t?—”
“This is not a time to play the knight, Damon,” Javier says. “Whether you like it or not, her presence is affecting you. So, deal with her. I don’t care how, just do it. I’ll see you in the office on Monday. I expect you to have a plan by then.”
As I head back to my car, I turn my phone back on, dreading the phone calls I’ll need to make.
The scandal has gone viral. Every outlet has picked up on the story, each spinning its own version of the intent behind my actions. Half of them are calling me a belligerent alcoholic. Others think it’s due to jealousy. A few are saying it was a lover’s quarrel. A mess. A giant fucking mess.
Javier thinks I don’t care. But I do. I read every article this morning. Every single one until my eyes started to glaze over.
My phone dings and vibrates as dozens of missed calls and text messages appear on my screen as I hop into my car. I peer down at the screen, and my stomach drops, a lump forming in the back of my throat.
Five missed calls from Emery. Something happened.
With trembling hands, I dial her number and wait anxiously for her to answer. "What's wrong?" I blurt out as soon as she picks up. “Is everything alright? Are you hurt?”
“What?” she asks. “Me? I’m fine, Damon.” She swallows. “Are you… Areyouokay?”
Her question acts like a torrential fucking downpour, flooding my fickle dam, the structure collapsingunder her words. I gasp for air, drowning in all of my mistakes.
“No…” I choke out. “I’m not. Everything…” I struggle to fill my lungs with oxygen. “Nothing is okay, Emery. It should’ve been me, not them. Why?”
I sound pathetic, a broken shell of a man. My voice crackles through the phone, stripped bare, naked, disgustingly vulnerable.
I should hang up. I should end the fucking call. She can’t see me like this,hearme like this. Weak. So goddamn weak. What will she think of me? The charade is up, gone, my cover blown.
This is me.
God, is this really me?
“Where are you right now?”
“Cemetery,” I murmur, my voice wavering and filled with pain. “I’m at?—”
“Take a moment to breathe, Damon,” she says, gentle and soothing. I feel a flicker of relief at the sound of her voice, a tiny beacon of hope in the midst of my turmoil. She pauses for what feels like hours. “I… Can you meet me somewhere?”
“I don’t think now is a good?—”
“Damon.”
