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Because they aren’t good.
And I still need time to articulate them in a professional nature.
Once the face of my company has ended the call, he kicks his chin at the head of security. “What’s goin’ on, Park?”
“Is this about Lauren?” Dropping my shark pen on top of the booklet precedes me leaning back in my seat. “Do you finally have a suspect in mind?”
“Not at this time, sir.”
“Then what is it?” J.T. pushes for him to continue in tandem with me, hitting ignore on Evie’s call again.
“The main cyber security office for Wilcox Enterprises contacted our inhouse cyber security office to report what was initially suspected to be a stolen photo-”
“Photo?” There’s no stopping my brow from furrowing. “Photo of who?”
His pause seems to last an eternity. “You.”
“What?!” the other male erupts and launches onto his feet. “You’re fucking kidding!”
My lips firmly press together as I do my best to remain calm.
Collected.
Chances are it’s not nearly the level of catastrophic the world is making it out to be.
It’s probably the side of my masked face or mismatched eyes captured by someone’s shitty cellphone camera while I was picking up or dropping off Bryn.
It’s most likely not worth a stroke level spike in blood pressure.
“What photo?!” shouts J.T. in tandem with grabbing the tablet he just abandoned. “Where’s it posted?!”
“Everywhere,” Park unhappily retorts on a step forward, his fair skinned, athletic frame fighting to remain calm. “It’s literally everywhere.” Wisely, he doesn’t continue to approach. “Wes is trending.”
A twitched glare is given during a long, deep, groan of displeasure.
“It is the top story of every major social media outlet.”
His description further harshens my narrowed stare.
“How is that fucking possible?!” J.T. barks again. “And why hasn’t Pham or Evie called?! Why has no one from their department tried to make contact?!” Moving my mouth isn’t even something I have time to consider courtesy of his grunted, “Shit.”
I shift my attention to him and ask, “What do they have? Back of my head? Profile? Both of my eyes?”
Irrefutiable panic pierces his hazel at the same time he wordlessly meets my glare.
“What?” His lack of response forces me to return to Park who is struggling to keep an unmoved expression. “What type of photo is it?” Still receiving nothing from them both prompts me to bellow. “Answer! Me!”
My best friend reluctantly turns the device to display the find.
“Th-th-that’s my face…” The picture of Bryn kissing my mutilated cheek knocks all the air out of my lungs, turning the rest of the proclamation into practically nothing but air. “My…whole…f-f-face…” Disbelief collides with dread inspiring my palms to dart upward. Cover my complexion. Minimize the volume of the next exclamation. “Fuckkkkk!”
“How did the media get this photo, Park?” J.T. rushes to investigate. “How did they fucking steal it?! Isn’t that what all the cyber protocols are fucking for?”
“It wasn’t stolen.”
The asinine statement shoots me to the edge of my seat. “Of course it was fucking stolen, Park!”
His hesitation to remain silent is instantly noted.
