Page 93 of Fake It For Glory

MERIDA

Isat in the plush leather seat at the ultra-nice steak restaurant, surrounded by the top writers at Full Disclosure. It was a moment I had longed for, a celebration of my supposed success in the world of journalism. But now that it had arrived, it felt empty and devoid of meaning. I shouldn’t have come, but I supposed there was still that girl that wanted her father’s attention. I had heard of the celebration dinners, but I had never been invited. I tried to be one of the cool kids for a long time. It was nice to finally be one of the people at the table—literally.

The restaurant was a culinary haven, and everyone around me raved about the amazing food. I had been here with my father before, but it was a father-daughter thing, not an editor and his top writer thing. Food flowed from the kitchen to our table. The steaks were perfectly cooked, the sides were gourmet delights, and the wine flowed generously. But to me, it was as if the flavors had vanished, leaving behind only a bitter taste of guilt.

My father beamed with pride as he toasted my latest article. He spoke of my talent as if it were a commodity that he had acquired and was now showing off to his colleagues. I smiled and thanked him, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong here, that I had somehow cheated my way to this table. My father’s praise did nothing to dispel this feeling. If anything, it only made it worse.

I forced a smile and clinked my glass with those around me, but inside, I was wrestling with my conscience. The article I had written, the one that had brought me this moment of glory, was based on deceit and betrayal.

As I glanced around the table at my colleagues and mentors, I couldn’t help but feel like an imposter. They saw me as a rising star in the world of journalism, but I knew the truth. My success had come at a cost, and I was carrying the weight of my choices.

As the night wore on, the conversation turned to gossip and office politics. I tried to participate, but everything felt so shallow and meaningless. These people were supposed to be the best of the best, but all they cared about was who was sleeping with whom and who was in line for the next promotion. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of superficiality.

The laughter and chatter of the dinner conversation swirled around me, but I was lost in my own thoughts. I wondered if this was the price of ambition, if climbing the ladder of success meant sacrificing one’s integrity. I realized I wasn’t missing much when it came to being in the cool kids’ circle.

As the evening wore on, I knew I had a decision to make—to continue down this path of deception or find a way to make amends for the choices I had made.

I was nursing my glass of wine, with Dalton sitting beside me. His enthusiasm was usually infectious and something I admired, but it grated on my nerves tonight more than usual. He was talking about how my career was on the cusp of a massive transformation, and all I could think about was the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed me since that article had been published.

“Merida.” Dalton leaned in closer, his voice honeyed with charm. “You have no idea just how big this is going to be for you. This is your moment, your ticket to the big leagues.”

I tried to smile, to appreciate his support, but it was hard when all I felt was a sense of dread. “I don’t know about that,” I murmured.

“I do,” he said, smiling. “I’m having a party at my place. I want you to come over for drinks.”

Dalton’s parties were the worst kept secret at the office. Only the really cool kids got an invite to his parties. I was jealous of the others that got invited. I always felt left out. I had aspired to be one of the regulars at his parties and now that I had the invitation I’d been coveting, my stomach revolted.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think I’m in the mood to party.”

“Merida,” he said with his voice low as he leaned in. “I’d like you to be there. You’ve never been to my place. I think you would like it.”

His eyes lingered just a little too long on mine as he spoke. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I didn’t miss the leering look at my chest. I wasn’t in the mood for socializing, especially with my name plastered all over the media for the wrong reasons.

He was hitting on me. That confused the hell out of me. “Dalton, I don’t think that would be a good idea.” I said firmly, trying to stifle the irritation in my voice.

“Why not?” he asked, his hand inching ever closer to my thigh.

I leaned back, out of his reach. “I’m really not interested.”

“Come on, Merida,” he said, his tone turning insistent. “It’ll be fun. You deserve to celebrate. Let’s go back to my place and we can have our own party. I’ll tell everyone I changed my mind.”

I knew where this was going, and I didn’t want any of it. I had always thought Dalton was cute, but I had never been interested in him that way. And now, with everything that was going on, I definitely didn’t need any more attention.

It was disappointing. I looked up to Dalton. I thought I wanted to be like him, but now, after what he had done, I didn’t even want to be near him. He kept finding ways to touch me. I was surprised and a little disappointed my father didn’t intervene. I would have thought he would be disgusted to have an older man pawing at me.

Unfortunately, Dalton seemed unbothered by my discomfort. The server approached, bringing a fresh bottle of wine. Dalton, in his usual theatrical manner, told her about my newfound fame. “This is the woman who spent a month with Jensen Loxley,” he bragged. “She’s the one that finally broke through the dude’s veil of secrecy.”

I could feel the eyes of the people around us on me, and it made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t ready for this kind of attention, and I certainly didn’t want to be the center of anyone’s gossip.

The server looked at me like she thought Dalton was lying. I knew exactly what she was thinking. She didn’t believe the gorgeous billionaire would look twice at someone like me. It made me want to crawl under the table and hide.

As the evening wore on, Dalton’s attempts at charm became increasingly unbearable. I knew he meant well by constantly talking me up, but I needed some space to clear my head and make sense of the mess I had unwittingly created. I made an early getaway, much to everyone’s disappointment, slipping out of the party like a phantom.

The night air was cool and refreshing, a welcome relief from the suffocating atmosphere of the party and the overwhelming smell of rich food and wine. I needed time to think, to figure out how to navigate the storm that was brewing in the media. My life was changing, that much was certain, but whether it was for better or worse remained to be seen.

On one hand, I finally had the career I had been fighting for. On the other, I lost the only man I ever loved.

I had spent hours wandering the city, seeking solace and answers to the chaos my life had become. I mulled over my options. What could I do to make things better? I had to apologize again. I hoped that with a little time to cool down, Jensen would give me a chance to explain what happened.