Page 7 of One Pucking Secret
She wraps one long arm around me, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might be listening, then leans in close. “You didn’t hear this from me, but Janelle’s office door was cracked open a while ago, and I overheard hertalking about a new assignment. She said it’s a big client, and whoever takes them on will be a shoe-in for VP.”
My attention snaps to full alert. “She did? Did she drop any names?”
Lainey nods her head, her expression serious yet tinged with excitement. “Only your name was mentioned.”
“Thanks for the heads up. If I’m lucky, this is what our meeting is about.” I try to keep my tone even, but my heart is already beating a little faster. This could be big.
“Anytime, girl. But if you get that promotion, you’re taking me with you. Or else,” she teases, her smile breaking through.
I chuckle. “You know I’d refuse to move up without you.” Lainey’s loyalty and support mean more to me than she probably knows, especially since she’s my eyes and ears around the office when I’m not here.
I check the time on my phone. “I should get going. My meeting with Janelle is in a few minutes.”
She shoots me a wink, her blue eyes shining bright in the natural light that pours in through the windows. “Good luck.”
Meeting unexpectedly with Janelle would be enough to make anyone’s stomach do a seriesof Olympic-level backflips. She runs a tight ship at Luminous Communication, but for good reason—our company is known as the best entertainment PR firm in the city.
We’re the ones celebrities and public figures come to when they’re in dire need of cleaning up their image. The job is high pressure, but I’m used to it, having worked my way up from junior publicist to my current role as Accounts Director.
It’s my job to manage certain client accounts and oversee the teams implementing our strategies and running campaigns. As much as I love my current role, I would give anything to become vice president. I’ve had my eye on it ever since learning that our current VP is retiring.
Reaching Janelle’s office, I pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. I’ve always admired Janelle—her sharp intellect, her no-nonsense approach. Whatever this meeting is about, I remind myself, I’m ready for it. With a final composed exhale, I knock softly on her door.
“Janelle?” I begin tentatively as I enter her office. “You wanted to see me?”
“Chloe, have a seat,” Janelle motions to the chair in front of her desk, her tone businesslike yet carrying an undercurrent of urgency.
I sit, straightening my posture. Janelle looks at me, her expression serious. “I just got off the phone with Mark Turner. He’s an agent friend of mine. His client is in a bit of a bind.”
I lean forward, intrigued. Clients in trouble are where I shine the brightest. “You know that’s my specialty.” I can’t help but let the hint of pride slip into my voice. “I love clients in a bind. Un-binding is my thing. The bindier, the better.”
Janelle nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “Which is why you were the first person who came to mind.”
“I’m on board,” I reply instantly.
“Knew you would be.” Janelle’s expression turns grim. “Here’s the situation. We have some problematic photos of the client with his former partner at a social establishment. They surfaced online last evening. The imagery is… compromising. It portrays the client in a potentially aggressive light while his ex appears visibly distressed. Now she’s leveraging her influence online, insinuating that he struggles with anger management and was verbally abusive during their relationship. Given herstatus as a popular influencer, this narrative is gaining traction rapidly.”
I process the information, my mind already turning over potential strategies. “And the client? Is he culpable in this?” I ask, knowing full well the complexity of such situations.
“He denies any wrongdoing,” Janelle responds. “He insists it’s a gross misinterpretation of the facts. He was with some teammates that night, and they all backed up his version of events.”
I lean back in my seat. “So, who’s the client?”
“Wyatt Banks. He’s an—”
“Wyatt Banks?” I interrupt, my voice rising in disbelief. “As in the 29-year-old hockey star? From the LA Knights? Who just joined the team last month?”
Janelle raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Wow, Chloe. I didn’t take you for a hockey fan.”
My mind whirls. Wyatt Banks—the name sends a jolt through me, stirring memories I thought I’d long buried. Memories of that one night, the connection I thought we had, and then… nothing. He ghosted me. Left me wondering what I’d done wrong.
“You want me to work with Wyatt Banks?” I manage to keep my voice steady, but inside, mystomach churns with all the emotions I’ve tried to suppress.
“Is there a problem?” Janelle’s tone sharpens, picking up on my hesitation.
I need this promotion. More than anything. And if that means working with Wyatt Banks, I’ll just have to swallow my pride and push through. “Of course, there isn’t,” I reply, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. “You’re right. I’m… a fan.” I better stop talking before I throw up in my mouth.
“Then I expect you’ll put your all into this contract,” Janelle says firmly. “Mark is a good friend, and he came to us because he knows we’re the best in the industry.”
