Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Carson’s back suddenly goes ramrod straight, and his eyes pin me in place. “Yes, I know. I appreciate it. Thank you, Ellie.”
He hangs up the phone and then turns back around. His jaw is clenched tight and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Instead of looking at me, he scans the room. “That was Ellie, our night security guard for the admin building, reminding me that conference rooms are considered public spaces, and as such, they have security cameras that she’s unable to turn off.”
“What?” I yelp, hopping from the table and straightening my clothes. “Oh, my God. No!”
I look around wildly, searching for a camera. Maybe I can destroy it? I bet a good hit with the heel of my shoe would do it. I spy the small globe in the corner of the room and rush to move a chair over, climbing up with my shoe in hand. But Carson is there to stop me.
“What are you doing?” he asks, concern etching his brows as he holds me steady in the wobbly, rolling chair. Okay, so maybe I should’ve thought this through a little more, but desperate times call for fast and decisive measures. And if risking a broken neck is what I have to do, then so be it.
“Destroying it. You of all people know how much damage a video can do.”
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Carson says evenly.
“It doesn’t matter. You know that. You didn’t do anything wrong with Abby either, but look what happened!”
Okay, not my best moment. I might be losing it a little. But I’m having mental flashes of our almost-sex tape getting out and going viral just like the Abby Burks video did. I can’t be a PR consultant if I can’t manage my own image.
“Get down from there,” Carson orders, his tone no-nonsense and hard. Even if I wanted to disagree, he picks me up and lowers me to the floor like I weigh nothing.
“Carson,” I argue.
He puts his hands on my shoulders, stilling me. “Jayme, we didn’t do anything wrong. And destroying the camera now won’t fix it. There’s no way to undo what Ellie saw.” He lets that sink in, having to wait an embarrassingly long time for his logic and rationality to sink into my panicking brain.
I sag, finally admitting that he’s right. “Shit.”
“Wave to Ellie?” he jokes, waving at the small camera globe I just tried to destroy. His smile is easy, as if nothing potentially reputation-ruining happened.
“Are you serious?” I say, shaking my head at his craziness. “This is why you need me.” I soften the dig with a teasing smile.
“Oh, I could fuck up a lot worse if that’s what it takes to keep you around,” he offers. “But I’m hoping I can find some other way to keep you coming back for more.”
How is he flirting with me at a time like this?
Brrring—brrring—brrring.
The phone rings once again, and I look at it with irritation. I think Ellie is concerned we’re about to hop back on the table and give her a show. Not that I haven’t considered continuing what we were doing, but I’d at least have the decency—and brains—to go somewhere camera-free.
But I wave at the camera above me. “Hi, Ellie. Thank you,” I tell the camera, and I imagine that somewhere in the Steen building, Ellie waves back.
CHAPTER 11
CARSON
“Thank you so much for coming in for a status update meeting, everyone,” I tell my team as they shift around in their seats, filling the conference room. “Although I hate that I caused all of this, I do think we’ve found the silver lining in this particular situation. I do want to say again . . . thank you for saving my ass.”
Jayme scowls. “I think Carson meant to say ‘reputation’, not ‘ass’, because one is the truth and the other warrants a call to HR.”
I can read the warning she’s basically shouting at me with her face and offer her a teasing wink in response.
“Right. My reputation . . . and Americana Land’s reputation,” I correct myself. “That’s what’s at stake. Who’d like to go first with updates?”
Stephanie, one of my analysts, raises her hand. I’ve told her she doesn’t need to do that. We’re not an elementary class, after all, but old habits die hard and it’s sort of become her ‘thing’ now. When she holds her hand up, it’s because she’s got something important to say, and we all listen carefully. I nod, giving her the floor.
“I’ve been working on recruiting vloggers for directed marking. Timing has proven to be an issue for some of my prime targets, but I found two locals who highlight regional attractions who are on board. One already did his visit and sent me his videos for approval. Jayme, would you like to see them before they go live?”