My Best Friend's Brother(31)

"I know that," my boss said.


"I'm not making a statement on the picture, either. I'm just doing the interview."


"Just do your normal thing. That's all I'm asking."         

     



 


"Mac?"


"Yeah, Sarah?"


"Did you ever believe in me? In what I could accomplish with this show?"


In that very moment, I watched my boss of three years drop every single  wall he'd ever thrown up. I saw him become human for a split second, and  he finally realized what he was looking at. A scared little girl who  wanted to make a difference who was realizing that maybe she didn't.


Maybe this scared little girl didn't make a difference after all.


"I've always believed in your show. It's why I took a pay cut in order to work it."


"You what?" I asked.


"We'll talk about it later. Right now, I heard Angie running down the hallway to get you ready. You're on in forty-five."


"Come on, girl," Angie said. "Let's get you ready for your lunchtime debut."


But all I wanted to do was climb under a rock and cry. I'd never felt so  helpless in my entire life. The thing I'd been striving toward since I  was moved to the three o'clock hour was getting my show moved to  lunchtime, and it was happening.


But it was happening because of that picture, and not because of my hard work.


"You ready?" Angie asked.


I stared at myself in the mirror and sighed. I sighed for the revelation  I'd just come across. I sighed for the argument I'd just had with  Mason. I sighed for the argument to come with Emma. But most of all? I  sighed for my show.


I didn't know if I believed in it anymore.


"Sure," I said, shrugging. "I'm ready."





Chapter 26


Mason


What the fuck was wrong with her? Why the hell was she blaming me for  this shit? She wanted to keep doing this too. She wanted this  arrangement as much as I had, though it might have taken a little  coaxing. What the hell was so bad about it? Why was I so bad for her  reputation? She exposed her scum boyfriend over a month ago! Why was it  so hard to imagine her moving on with someone like me? I was better than  that fucking scumbag. I'd done many things in my life, but cheating on a  fucking woman was beneath me. I'd never pull that shit with Sarah, not  in a million fucking years.


Even playboys had their standards and their own moral codes.


I called Sarah back after I watched her lunchtime interview. She was  painted with makeup and a smile was plastered on her face, but it didn't  quite reach her eyes. She was rigid. Laid back. To the common eye, she  looked fine. She was laughing with the person she was interviewing, and  the entire segment was very humorous and respectful. But I knew better. I  knew she was pissed.


What scared me was the fact that she was also lackadaisical. Almost like she didn't care anymore.


That was very unlike Sarah.


I called her a few minutes after her show ended, but she didn't pick up.  I had to fight the urge to call her again, knowing if I pestered her  long enough, she would finally answer. But, I fought against my urges,  and I set my phone down. If I wanted any chance at garnering an audience  with her anytime soon, I needed to leave her alone for the day. Let her  wrap her mind around things and try to figure out what her next steps  were.


So that's exactly what I did.


I came and went from my house, ignoring the paparazzi that had managed  to find my secluded property on the outskirts of Dallas. I told them I  wasn't giving any statements on the pictures, and I left it at that.  Tony came over to field the press, trying to smooth things over without  talking on my behalf. I kept my sunglasses on all day as I ran from  place to place, still pricing out buildings where we could touchdown an  office of ours and build up in the Dallas area.


I wanted to have all these numbers and figures going in case I could smooth things over with everyone.


Just as I was walking away from the fourth building I was pricing, I  felt my phone vibrate on my hip. I wanted it to be Sarah. I wanted it to  be her calling me, even if she yelled at me even more. That meant she  hadn't completely written me off yet, and I could convince her to meet  me somewhere and have a glass of wine.


Just to talk about how we were going to navigate this.


But it was Tony, and I knew what he was going to say before I even put the phone to my ear.


"No, Tony," I said.


"Mase, think about this. You need to give a statement. Hold a press  conference and get out in front of this. The media will easily sway this  into another scandal, and I'm not sure if a rousing round of positive  interviews will fix this one."


"Shit," I said, groaning.


"You can keep it simple. You can keep Sarah's name out of it, but you  need to hold one. This is your image we're talking about. This could  tank the company."         

     



 


"I'm on my way to the house. Go ahead and set it up," I said.


I drove up the driveway to my house, and the press was already setting  up. Every single news station was there, and for the first time in my  life, I felt nervous. I was nervous about standing up in front of those  cameras and giving some sort of statement that would please them. If  there was one thing I'd learned in the year that this company bloomed,  it was that you could never fully please the media.


I had to understand that this didn't only affect me. It affected Sarah  and her career. It affected my relationship with Emma and whether she'd  let me back in.


Oh fuck, this affected Emma.


We should've told her. Sarah and I should've told her right from the  very beginning. We should've given her the benefit of the doubt instead  of keeping this from her. She was going to be so pissed if she wasn't  already, and I didn't know what I could do about it. We'd always had  such a hard relationship, one that was surrounded by familial turmoil  and Emma's desperate need to piece her family back together. Emma would  feel betrayed by the two people in her life she could trust, and the  idea of being lumped into the same category as that asshat ex of hers  made me sick to my stomach.


Instead of her brother and her best friend telling her about all this  shit, she had to find out like a common groupie through the tabloids.


She was never going to forgive me.


I wanted to call her. I wanted to turn this car around, get on the phone  with her, and meet her somewhere. I wanted to apologize. To beg for her  forgiveness. I knew Sarah would never forgive me. I knew, deep down,  she wasn't coming back, but I'd enjoyed what I rekindled with my sister  Wednesday night. The way she fell into me when I wrapped my arms around  her.


Right then, I realized how much I wanted my sister in my life, but I  knew she would screen my calls and probably ignore me like Sarah was  doing now.


I pulled up to my house, and Tony came rushing over. He opened my car  door, and I stepped out, buttoning up my suit coat as I turned toward  the seated press. They were all on my front lawn, waiting desperately  with their pens poised and their cameras ready. Tony patted me on my  back and murmured something in my ear, but I didn't catch it.


All I could think about was how I'd hurt Sarah and Emma in one fell swoop, and I felt helpless when it came to fixing it.


I walked up to the stand and cleared my throat. The cameras were  rolling, and everyone was waiting on the edge of their seats, and  suddenly, I knew exactly what I was going to say.


And I knew how to keep Sarah's name out of it.


"This is stupid," I began. "Every single bit of this."


Tony's brow furrowed slightly as he stood in the audience, but he didn't move to stop me.


"Just because I've had a couple of scandals in the past, which both  turned out to be lies, mind you, doesn't mean I should be judged for  kissing a beautiful woman outside of a restaurant. The first thing I  want to make clear is that the picture was taken on the grounds of a  restaurant that the city of Dallas has rendered a no-shoot-zone for the  paparazzi. I know who took the photo, and you can rest assured that I'm  coming after you."


Tony was smirking in the back, and the press was in a writing frenzy as I looked directly into the camera.


"The woman in question in the photo does not deserve your anger. She's  vibrant, intelligent, and has somehow managed to tame the playboy that  exists within me. I hear there are people calling her a hypocrite.  Challenging her moral code and her ethics. So, I prompt you with this  question. Why? Why is she a hypocrite? A woman who caught her  ex-boyfriend cheating on her tossed him to the curb and took a public  stance on how men should be treating women. With respect. With care.  With the dedication and love they deserve. How does her kissing a man  beside her car outside of a restaurant make her a hypocrite? Did she not  wait long enough for you until she had eyes for someone else? Is there  some book that outlines the proper amount of time a woman should grieve  the loss of an asshole before she dips her toes back into the waters  again?"