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I shook my head. “I’m not as famous as the celebrities, thank God.”
Erica and I sat down in my office and started to brainstorm a plan. We were very sure to leave the office door open so anyone walking past could see us working. The last thing I wanted was for someone to jump to conclusions when they knew we were behind closed doors. Things were bad enough already.
“I think we should go with the press release stating you forgot something when you brought me a couple of work files,” I said. “Like a purse or something.”
“Do you think they will buy it?” Erica asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s worth a shot.”
“I’m wearing the same clothes in both pictures. What about that?”
“You could have thrown on the same clothes when you realized you left your purse at my place. If you were in a hurry, it’s possible.”
“Maybe,” Erica said. “Are they sure I was going to your apartment and not someone else’s?”
“I thought about that. But Shane found out that someone bribed the front desk to release who you were visiting when you signed in.”
Erica groaned. “Is nothing sacred? I thought we had a right to privacy or something.”
I sighed and nodded. Erica fluctuated between irritated and freaked out, and I fully understood where she was coming from. I felt like a dick for dragging her into this mess. When I mentioned it, Erica shook her head.
“It takes two of us to do what we did. This is not your fault or my fault. We’re in this together.”
It was nice of her to be so straightforward and mature about it. I wished it was enough to make it all go away. Still, there was a chance the press release could work. Right now, it was all we had.
I did the press release at lunch. I had security push the media farther away, and we set out the podium and microphone. I stepped up and explained to the press that Erica had left her purse at my place after she had brought me important investors files. I was being recorded, and journalists scribbled furiously on the notepads. I was hoping this would cut us a little slack. When they hit me with questions after I stopped talking, I said again that I had no comment and turned back in to the building. Security held the reporters back until I was in the elevator. I took a deep breath and tried to let some of the tension bleed out of my shoulders. I was used to stressing, but this was on a whole new level.
The rest of the day was filled with phone calls and emails that flooded in from all corners of the country. Everyone who worked for me, and all those who worked with me, had something to say about what had happened. Some of my employees pledged their loyalty; others had no problem telling me what a terrible person I was. Now and then, my reputation as a playboy, something I had worked hard to put in my past, came to the surface again. Even though some people were positive about it and told me they would support me, I was aware that no one was buying the press release. Not even those who stated that they were on my side. It was more that they were agreeing to forgive me rather than believing I was innocent.
By the time the workday came to a close, nothing had died down the way I had hoped it would. In fact, it only seemed to have become worse. It was as if there was nothing else interesting in the world, as if our story was the only thing that anyone could focus on for entertainment. What about all the horrendous things that happened around us all the time? Why did something as ridiculous as a relationship with my EA take precedence? But of course, such was the nature of gossip. It always took the lead.
They weren’t only saying things about me—that I would have been able to handle. They were saying things about Erica too. Of all the people in the world, Erica deserved something like this the least. I was worried she would pack her bag and leave. There was nothing keeping her here if the stories were going to ruin her reputation. She had told me she was here to build herself back up after her previous boss had fired her unfairly. If I had done anything for her, it was only to make matters worse.
Chapter 14
Erica
When I left the office on Monday night, I had to fight the same crowd of journalists to get home. Didn’t these people eat or sleep? It seemed like they were vultures hanging around for the next story, for the next interesting thing to happen, and that nothing in your life mattered otherwise.
