Page 15 of The Price of Scandal
My board of directors was made up of men and women who were retired executives from varied backgrounds. Most of them distrusted me based on my age. Thirty-six to them was still practically junior high.
There was a smaller minority that judged me on the fact that I came from money. My father had a respectable family fortune. His great-uncle owned one of the world’s most successful cruise lines, and my father was an executive in the company. But when I gave myself a free minute to enjoy absolute clarity, I knew that I had taken the Stanton family coffers and exploded them. My father was both aggressively proud of me and wounded by my success.
“Imani, I’m taking this seriously,” I assured her.
“I don’t know that you are. This is Code Red. I know that you like to have a hand in everything that goes on at Flawless, but now is the time to focus on priorities. And undoing this mess is your only priority. Whatever it takes,” she insisted. “You’ve been working toward this since you started the company. Don’t let one bad decision ruin it all.”
“I will fix this,” I promised.
“Good, because I know you won’t like it if the board decides to step in.”
No, I would not.
I disconnected with Imani’s uncertainty of my dedication ringing in my ears.
“Ms. Stanton, I have Alpha Group on the line again for you,” Easton said, hustling in with my mid-morning hit of caffeine. “And your friend Luna sent this over.”
“Not interested in calls from anyone other than board members,” I reiterated.
He put the special delivery green juice down on my desk like it was plutonium and handed me the note that came with it. “It smells like dirt and lawn,” he said, wrinkling his pert nose. “I’d drink the coffee first and hope it burns your taste buds so you can down the juice.”
Ems,
Fuel up with good vibes! Daisy’s Insta post is a hit!
Love and light,
Luna
I hadn’t left my office since arriving that morning. Assistant Number Two—Valerie, I’d discovered after remembering to consult the HR records—kept me fueled with lunchtime sushi from the cafeteria and a steady flow of smart waters.
No one in the entire building had said a word to me about last night.
I wasn’t sure if it was because they were terrified of me or worried I’d snap like the delicate crystal stem of a wineglass. And at this point, I wasn’t sure either.
My apologies weren’t reassuring anyone. Worse, they were pissing me off.
I had an emergency call with my publicity and legal teams in fifteen minutes. I hoped they had a miracle up their sleeves because I felt like I was making a bigger mess of things.
If I could close my eyes for five minutes—
My office door flew open, and Lita rushed in. “I am sick over this,” she said, rushing me. I rose and submitted to her hug. I wasn’t comfortable with affection, and Lita wasn’t the best hugger. She was too non-committal.
There was no solace to be found in the hug.
But there was no solace anywhere. I’d let her down. Everyone in this building. Everyone in warehouses and manufacturing labs and distribution centers around the country. I’d let every single one of them down, and I was only just realizing that I had no idea how to fix it. Just doing my job wasn’t going to repair anything.
“This is all my fault,” she said, releasing me.
She crossed to the sitting area and helped herself to an exquisitely wrapped chocolate truffle. I allowed myself one a day. Today’s had been ingested in desperation thirty seconds after walking in the door.
“It’s not your fault.” I sighed, taking a seat in the silk upholstered armchair next to her.
“I should have done more digging into him,” she said, shaking her head, popping the entire candy into her mouth.
“This was his first arrest,” I said flatly. There hadn’t been anything to dig up on Merritt. Jane had emailed me a creepily thorough dossier on the guy this morning. Sure, he was a shiftless, lazy playboy. A barnacle on his father’s fortune. But this was his first brush with the law. There wasn’t anything prior to last night that would have raised any red flags.
I’d spent thirty whole seconds wondering if someone had set him up or if he’d scorned someone close to him who’d decided to get a very public, very costly revenge. And then I’d had to get back to reassuring directors that I wasn’t spiraling out of control.
