Page 10 of Rookie Move
Jesus, girl. Get a grip. She just needed to get through this press conference, and then she could go back to her office and be alone for a while to deal with her shock. She would need to form a game plan for coexisting with Leo Trevi. It would take some time to get used to him walking around this place. And it wasn’t only that he looked like a sexy, A-list movie star. Seeing him dredged up thoughts of the scariest time in her life.
Maybe it wasn’t rational, but she didn’t like the idea of Leo invading her little world. Yesterday, Brooklyn had belonged toher. The Long Island ’burbs where she’d grown up had felt far away from the brick streets and renovated factory spaces of Brooklyn. In this job, she’d felt truly independent, putting down her own fragile roots in a new place.
Fast forward twenty-four hours, and her daddy had joined the workplace and her ex-boyfriend had shown up to remind her of all that she’d lost. Really, a girl could be forgiven for feeling slightly hysterical.
Not that there was any time to panic. Right now she needed to focus on the press conference and look like aprofessional—at least a half-nauseated professional in uncomfortable shoes.
The crowd made their last-minute adjustments, flipping open their reporters’ pads, focusing their cameras. A low murmur of expectation hummed throughout the room.
O’Doul had been the last to enter the room, following closely behind Leo. His eyes met Georgia’s as his hand landed on Leo’s shoulder. Two paces later he rasped something into Leo’s ear. “You gotta stay on the good side of the publicist.” They were moving away, their backs to her. O’Doul tried to keep his conversation private, but she still heard his final whispered comment. “She’s a total bitch on wheels.”
The comment didn’t startle Georgia at all. Nor did it even offend her. Forthright men in the workplace are revered for their strength. Women? You can either be a doormat or a bitch. Take your pick.
But what happened next was a surprise. And not the good kind.
The whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion. First, Leo and O’Doul rounded the corner of the table where she had carefully positioned their chairs and microphones. Leo’s expression darkened, and she saw his eyes narrow at O’Doul, his beautiful jaw hardening. At the same time, he sat down in his chair...
Georgia gasped as he opened his mouth. It was like those dreams where you couldn’t move fast enough to save yourself—she lunged forward, raising her hands in the universal sign for “stop,” hoping the motion would alert him to the disaster that was coming.
But he didn’t see her. Instead, Leo leaned toward O’Doul, as if in confidence. But that put his mouthwaytoo close to the microphone. “If you want to keep breathing, don’tevercall the love of my life a bitch.”
There was a squeal of feedback, or maybe that was just inside Georgia’s head. But either way, heads turned. Because that mic waslive. The whole room heard what he’d said.
Georgia watched in horror as Leo realized his mistake, sitting back in surprise. As if moving farther away could undo what he’d just done.
O’Doul turned his big chin slowly in Leo’s direction, a lopsided smirk on his face. For a split second she was terrified that he’d fire back at the insolent rookie who had just threatened his airway.
But at least now the gods were merciful. O’Doul held his tongue, because he’d been on the press conference circuit for years, and he knew to shut up and move on, at least while the cameras were rolling.
Which they were.
Like an army of giant, buglike eyes, every oversized lens in the room swung over to focus on Leo Trevi. The telltale sound of shutters firing issued through the room. And from the other end of the table, Georgia’s father turned to give Leo a glare which outshone every flashbulb.
And just like that, she lost control of the meeting, and therefore the message.
Leo lifted his chin, his posture defiant. But she saw a red flush creep up his neck. Unfortunately his gaze swung in her direction next. He set his jaw defiantly. As if he weren’t to blame for this problem.
Asif.
But the press didn’t care who was at fault. After gaping their fill at Leo, those cameras swung farther, following Leo’s gaze, and landed onher.
That’s when Georgia decided it might actually be possible to die of embarrassment. Or at least to wish for it. Reeling, she had to thrust out a hand to steady herself on the doorframe. Nate Kattenberger tapped the microphone, his mouth in a grim line. When they’re trying to make a statement, billionaires don’t appreciate seeing their hard-won media audience pulled in the wrong direction.
“Holy shit,” a voice whispered beside her. It belonged to Becca. “You are in so much trouble.”
She was right. The whispers and camera shutter soundsonly grew louder. All those eyes, all in the wrong place. There was only one solution.
Georgia turned and fled the room.
***
Nine hours later the reporters were long gone. But the horror of the world’s worst press conference was still achingly fresh.
Georgia let herself into the apartment she shared with Becca, a bag of takeout food dangling from each hand. “Honey, I’m home,” she called out. It was the first joke she’d made in hours. Today was almost too awful even for gallows humor.
She kicked off her evil high heels and staggered into the living room.
“Finally!” Becca squawked. “I’m dying!”
