Page 11 of Ms. Fortune

“Eve’s been arrested.” Her voice is flat and lacking any emotion whatsoever. A chill runs down my spine at her words. So, it’s started, then. I knew this was coming, but I thought the SEC would give me a head’s up. Perhaps they did try to contact me, but my phone’s been off all damned day. Shit.

“Okay…” I’m not sure what else to say. I thought I was prepared for this , but I misjudged myself. “What’s the fallout? I’ve been off the grid all day.”

“It’s not good, Brandon. The press and the public are starting to turn on you. Generally, we have one or the other, but never both like this. The socials are going berserk.”

“Wait, what? Turning on me? Why? I didn’t have anything to do with this. I fucking helped the SEC figure out it was Eve in the first fucking place.” I jump up, startling Taylor, and start pacing the patio, making a circuit around the pool, not caring how fucking cold it is away from the fire pit. My blood is boiling at this point, and I need to cool off.

Maggie goes silent, letting me process the news for a minute.

Once I have my temper under control, I ask, “So what’s next then? Should I care about this? The truth of everything will come out soon, no?”

“Should you care? Brandon, you do realize the shareholders’ meeting is in two weeks, right? The Board could propose a vote of no confidence against you. This is something we need to get ahead of. First and foremost, call an emergency Board meeting to fill everyone in on the investigation. After consulting with Legal, I’ll prepare press releases and a speech for the press conference we should have right after the Board meeting.”

“Right. Okay. That sounds good.” I’m still shocked this has all turned on me somehow. I never in my wildest dreams saw this coming. My brain has again switched to damage control, which I’ve been doing way too much lately. “Have Legal get back with me too. If we've somehow misstepped here, I might have a bone to pick with them.”

“Will do.” Maggie hesitates for a moment. The skin on the back of my neck prickles. I have the feeling I’m also not going to like what she says next.

“What is it, Maggie? I can tell you’ve got something else. Spill.”

“Do you have a date for the charity gala the night before the annual meeting this year? I really don’t think you should go stag again. You need to separate yourself from Eve as soon as possible, and a new love interest or companion would help tons.”

My mind goes to Normandy Blake, but I cringe, remembering her blatant dismissal of me earlier in the day. I’ve asked her out twice and been shot down each time. I don’t know if I can survive a third time. Or, maybe the third time could be the charm?

“I’ll need to think on that one, Maggie. Thanks for the insight, though.” I’m not comfortable recruiting a date just to improve my optics with the public. That’s not me. I’ve never done it, and I don’t see myself starting now. I can appreciate Maggie’s point, however. Distancing myself from Eve needs to happen. Fast.

The following day I’m up before the crack of dawn, preparing for a video conference with the rest of the Board of Directors. Since we’re all scattered around the country, scheduling last minute is a nightmare, but Diane manages to nail down a time in the early morning. I have our attorneys join the call to help put everyone’s mind at ease that things are under control and there’s nothing legally we need to worry about. The only issue we’re genuinely facing is the court of public opinion, which has been spun out of control. But, I assure everyone, it's fixable. I hope to God I’m right.

I spend the next few hours doing press interviews with various business news outlets, reassuring the public of the same thing, and those responsible for any crimes will be punished with my blessing and cooperation. I sidestep the relationship questions as smoothly as I can.

The next thing I know, it’s the end of the day, and Sophie, who has been hovering outside my office door on and off all day, finally bursts in with a plate of food for me.

“You skipped lunch. You shouldn’t do that.” Sophie is an older woman, a former nightclub owner during the halcyon days of Vegas, who never stops caring for other people. I’ve heard stories of all the girls she picked up off the street and gave jobs and temporary shelter until they got back on their feet. She earned the nickname “Saint Sophie” during that time and still deserves it. Her nightclub closed years ago, but when she’s not working for me, she’s volunteering at the youth homeless shelter downtown. She’s a ball of kinetic energy. I don’t know where she gets it from.

“Well, I didn’t have much choice today, unfortunately.” I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples to fend off another oncoming headache. “The world needs saving.” I glance up at her and grin.

“I’m telling you. You are Bruce Wayne, and I’m your Alfred. I swear I will find your bat suit one of these days.”

I knew that was coming, but it still makes me chuckle. “And I keep telling you, I am no superhero. Quite the opposite. I’m somebody’s arch-nemesis, I’m sure. I just haven’t met them yet.” I instantly think of Normandy and her clear dislike of me. Or maybe I already have.

Taylor knocks on the open door. “Mr. Carmichael, we’re making the arrangements to pick up the cars you purchased from Mischief Motors…did you want to come along? Or just have us retrieve them? We’re leaving shortly.”

I don’t need to be asked twice. After today, I could use some hot rod therapy and maybe even a glimpse of Normandy to top it all off. I jump to my feet. “I’m in.”

“But your dinner….” Sophie calls after me, disappointed at another skipped meal.

“Keep it in the fridge. I’ll heat it up when I come back. I promise.”

Food is currently the last thing on my mind.

Chapter 8

SMILE

NORMANDY

I shut my office door and am heading toward the exit when Chelsie calls me from behind.

“Where are you going?”

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