by Amelia Wilde
Who thought as a kid that they would be working in an office, bored out of her mind? To be honest, Thea had wanted to be a unicorn when she’d been little. Then, when she’d realized that she couldn’t exactly get a job as a unicorn, she’d decided to become an artist. At least that way, she could draw unicorns to her heart’s content.
Even now, she still wanted to become an artist who actually got paid for her art (although she no longer drew unicorns), but that would also mean showing her work to other people. That was something she still couldn’t do.
“Oooooh, he is so hot. Thea, come look at this.” Nicole popped her head over the wall of her cubicle like a groundhog. “Your favorite guy is talking again.”
Thea shouldn’t give in to temptation. She had work to do. Receipts to log, schedules to create… just the thought of both of those things made her get out of her chair to hang with Nicole in her cubicle instead. She’d never claimed to be the greatest worker in the world. Besides, the day was almost over.
Thea’s lip curled when she saw who was on Nicole’s screen: none other than Anthony Bertram, CEO of Bertram, Sons, and Co., the worst company in the history of forever. Not only were they a multibillion-dollar company whose CEO drew an obscenely huge salary, but they continued to do animal testing for their cosmetic and cleaning products even though there was no reason to do so. They basically tortured animals for money. It was disgusting.
Thea hated Anthony and everything he stood for.
“Look at his stupid, smug face,” she hissed.
“Shh!” Nicole turned up the volume on the livestream, obviously not caring if they got caught. Such was the lure of the handsome and rich Anthony Bertram.
Thea could admit that he was handsome, in a rich, smug, stupid, arrogant, selfish kind of way. His hair was dark, his jaw strong; he had one of those smiles that made a woman all weak-kneed. He clearly worked out, his suits fitting him perfectly, emphasizing his muscular shoulders and wide chest. He wasn’t bulky, though, but tall and fit. At the moment, he wore a dark gray suit with a blue tie; his cufflinks winked in the light of the news studio. They probably cost more than Thea’s annual salary.
“How has the company dealt with the social media controversy?” the news anchor asked Anthony. Thea barely restrained a snort when the perky and busty anchor licked her bottom lip as she asked Anthony the question.
“These things come and go,” said Anthony without any change of expression. “There were a lot of misrepresentations and outright lies in that campaign, and unfortunately, these kinds of things tend to spread like wildfire on the Internet. It’s best to wait for it to blow over than to address it directly.”
“Can you comment on the controversy itself? Will Bertram, Sons, and Co. continue to do animal testing?”
Anthony’s lips turned upward, but it wasn’t a smile. Not really. It looked like a predator spotting its prey. Thea shivered at that look in his eyes.
“I can’t comment on that,” he said, “but as we have said in our statement earlier this week, we pride ourselves on the products we sell, none of which contain parabens or toxins and all of which are one hundred percent organic. We were one of the first in the industry to do so.”
“Yes, but the allegations against you—”
“Are ludicrous,” interrupted Anthony. “It’s nothing except unfounded rumors and salacious gossip. I applaud activists who want to make the world a better place, but when doing so hurts other people, who are they saving? Or what are they saving? Nothing. They’re only patting themselves on the back for doing what they think is right.”
Thea turned red with anger at that comment. She wished she could strangle Anthony Bertram through the computer screen. What an arrogant asshole! That viral campaign had been about exposing the truth and showing consumers where their money was going.
Thea would know: she’d been one of the primary people behind the campaign.
It had been her best friend Mittens’s idea. Milton Haverford III, more commonly known as Mittens, was always the instigator in their circle, while Thea would take on ideas and make them into reality. This time, though, Thea had come up with original idea of a viral social media campaign against Anthony’s company.
Other members of their activist group had soon joined in. The social media campaign against Bertram, Sons, and Co. had grown slowly, and then a huge celebrity had shared the photos of suffering animals—rabbits and rats, primarily—and it had exploded.
Within the last two weeks, Bertram, Sons, and Co. had had to address the allegations, and apparently their stock had plummeted. People were boycotting their products. When Thea had gone to the grocery store just yesterday, she’d seen the company’s cleaning products sitting on the clearance shelves, collecting dust.
Seeing that had filled Thea with pride. She’d done that. She’d made a difference. If they kept pushing, Bertram, Sons, and Co. and other companies like it would have to make changes if they wanted to stay in business. Simple as that.
The news anchor began asking other questions unrelated to the controversy, and Anthony looked bored. He checked his watch at one point. You’d think after everything that happened, he’d at least attempt to be apologetic, thought Thea.
“God, he’s hot,” Nicole repeated. She sighed dreamily.
“He’s a terrible person,” countered Thea.
“We’re all terrible people at the end of the day.” Nicole rolled her eyes. “Besides, he’s rich. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t ride that train to Pound Town if given half a chance.”
Thea scoffed, although to her annoyance, she felt her cheeks redden. She hadn’t ridden anyone to Pound Town in way too long.
“I prefer my men to have morals. Ethics. A conscience,” said Thea.
“You mean you prefer men who are boring and you can dump without getting attached? I’ve known you long enough to know what makes you tick, Miss Thea, dear. And I’ve seen the dudes you’ve dated. They’re like warm tapioca: pointless and bland.”
Thea shoved Nicole lightly, not willing to admit how right her coworker and friend was. So what if she preferred her men to be a little unexciting? At least they weren’t evil.
“Do you have anything else you’d like to say about all of this?” the news anchor asked.
Anthony straightened his cuffs. “I’d like to address the people who instigated this.” He gazed straight at the camera now. “Your actions have consequences and will hurt real people.” He didn’t say anything else, but those words settled in Thea’s stomach like a rock.
They’d done this to help animals and people. How could they be hurting anyone? He was the one at fault here. But was Anthony just posturing, or was there truth in his words?
Thea put that out of her mind. She just had three more days, and she would be on vacation, enjoying the beauty of the woods, the open air, and not worrying about smug rich assholes like Anthony Bertram.
Anthony Bertram, billionaire CEO of Bertram, Sons, and Co., was having a very bad day.
It had started a few weeks ago. A few innocuous posts on social media—nothing new there. The Internet was a vast cesspool of nonsensical opinions. Anthony never paid attention to people blathering about shit they knew nothing about, especially in regard to Bertram, Sons, and Co.
Until one post had suddenly caught fire and been shared over fifty million times, making the company out to be some evil villain intent on animal torture. Newspapers and blogs and news stations had been calling the company nonstop. And Anthony had watched, rage pulsing through him, as his company’s stock had slid down, down, down, and the boycotts against their products had only intensified.
Anthony wasn’t about to let some hippie freaks who conflated animal testing with actual torture destroy what he’d built. He would go down fighting, and by God, he’d take those bastards down with him, too.
By midmorning, Anthony already had a headache. He’d been dodging email after email, phone call after phone call, about this PR nightmare. His board wanted a meet
ing immediately to discuss what to do.
Anthony was already on edge when Bruce Weaver came barreling into his office. Bruce was a member of Anthony’s board and one of his first shareholders. Although they’d once had a respectful business partnership, things had soured after Anthony had fired Bruce’s son Ryan a year ago. Anthony hadn’t regretted the decision one bit, but Bruce had made a point to make Anthony’s life hell as a result. This new development had given Bruce plenty of ammunition.
Anthony motioned for Bruce to sit, a thoroughly ironic gesture. “You wanted to discuss something?”
Of course Bruce would just come barging into his office, as opposed to sending a reply to Anthony’s email like a normal person.
“Once again, I would advise you to do nothing about this kerfuffle,” said Bruce, ignoring Anthony’s invitation to sit. “You’ll be making a huge mistake by giving these people the satisfaction of being noticed.”
“Considering I’ve already talked about it in the media, I fail to see how another interview would hurt.”
“You think you know everything, don’t you? You may be the CEO, but that doesn’t make you a dictator, either. You’re going to hurt this company irrevocably with your actions.”
“And I say that the current strategy is the reason why we’ve lost millions already.”
Bruce pointed a finger at him. “Don’t think that you’re immune, Bertram. The same people who made you CEO can take you down. Remember that.”
Anthony didn’t rise to the bait. Shrugging, as if Bruce had just suggested they go golfing, he replied, “Do as you wish. You aren’t the board.”
Bruce scowled before marching out of Anthony’s office.
Anthony’s assistant Cara, whose desk was right outside Anthony’s office, stood up when Bruce stormed out. Her eyes widened.
Coming to stand by Anthony’s door, she opened her mouth, ostensibly to ask a question, when he cut her off. “Has Society sent over the draft yet for the article?”
“Oh, oh, yes. They just did,” she stammered.
“Send it over. I want to get this out.”
Cara was smart enough not to comment on Anthony’s choice to continue against what the board—aka Bruce—thought the PR strategy should be. If Bruce wants me out, then he’ll have a hell of a fight to get there, Anthony thought.
After Anthony, Bruce held the most shares in the company, but Bruce would need more than half the board to agree before they could vote Anthony out. Bruce would have an uphill battle to manage that particular coup.
Anthony was just glad that he was going away from city for a while soon. He’d rented a cabin up in the woods months ago before all of this had started. He was tempted to leave right now, and hell to everyone who thought they knew better than him how to run his own company.
It was late in the afternoon when Anthony’s office door opened. “Have you heard of knocking?” he barked, thinking it was another rogue board member.
“Is that any way to greet your ex-wife?” a dulcet voice asked.
Anthony smelled her floral scent before he saw her. He’d always know that scent. Elise still wore the same perfume he’d bought her for their first wedding anniversary even though they’d been divorced for two years already. Anthony had a feeling she did it simply to irritate him.
This shit day’s going from bad to worse, he thought sourly. He didn’t get up at Elise’s entrance, and he didn’t offer her a seat, either. She didn’t deserve the courtesy.
Cara burst into his office. “Mr. Bertram, I’m sorry, I told her you were busy—”
“I’m sure you did,” he interrupted. “Cara, please close the door behind you.”
When his office door closed with a click, Anthony returned to the documents on his desk, not remotely interested in giving Elise the attention she craved. If she wanted something—which she most certainly did—she would have to tell him herself.
He heard her sit down across from him in the same seat that Bruce had refused to use. Why is today the day everyone seems intent on bursting into my office? he thought darkly. He X’ed out some numbers on the paper in front of him with a bit more force than necessary.
Elise clucked her tongue at him.
Glancing up, Anthony couldn’t help but notice that despite everything, she was still beautiful. Damn her.
Wearing an emerald-green dress that showed off every curve yet somehow remained demure, Elise exuded sex appeal in a deceptively simple package. She never wore red lipstick—only pinks and pale plums. She preferred to put her hair up rather than leaving it down, the honey-colored strands soft as silk and the color completely natural. Her sweet façade had been what had attracted Anthony in the first place. It had only been later that he’d seen her capacity for inflicting pain.
“Is this how you treat guests?” she asked, amused. “I thought I’d taught you better manners than that.”
He set his pen down and waited, a dark eyebrow raised. Like he’d thrown down a gauntlet, Elise then set her purse, a small clutch with gold trim, on his desk. Anthony knew that he hadn’t bought her that purse, so Ryan must have. The thought made him want to punch Ryan Weaver all over again.
Not because Anthony still loved Elise. Far from it. The moment he’d caught her cheating on him with Ryan, who also happened to be his former vice president and best friend, his heart had turned to stone. He’d divorced her before she could explain why she’d decided screwing his then–best friend had been a good idea. No, he’d hated that the two of them had made him look like a fool, that they’d conducted their affair right under his nose.
He would never let anyone make a fool of him again.
He couldn’t help but notice the giant diamond on Elise’s finger along with the wedding band. She’d gotten Ryan to marry her quickly, that was for sure.
“Why won’t you answer my texts? I’ve texted, called, emailed. Is your phone dead?” asked Elise. She pushed her bottom lip forward in a pout.
Anthony laughed darkly. “I hate to break it to you, but I was ignoring you. Now, unless you have something you actually need to tell me, get out. I have work to do.”
To his immense annoyance, she laughed. “You’re such a brute, Tony. You always were.” Her eyes sparkled.
He gritted his teeth at the sound of her calling him Tony. She was the only one who’d ever used that name with him, and now hearing it on her lips only made him hate her more.
“You always were terrible at compliments,” he said.
“Only because you’re worse at them,” she countered. Probably realizing his patience was at an end, she said, “I want more money, Tony.”
He snorted. “Of course you do. The thousands I paid you already to keep your mouth shut wasn’t enough?” He gestured toward the giant ring on her finger.
She flushed, covering her left hand. “You know very well that your lawyer screwed me over, and it’s not enough to support me.” Her voice was stiff to the point of sounding prissy.
“Ryan doesn’t give you money?”
She stiffened. Anthony hadn’t meant to bring up her latest husband, but with Elise, his self-control tended to dissipate.
“He doesn’t give me money because he’s still out of work. Because of you.” Her eyes narrowed. “I want more money.”
“Or what? You’ll fuck another man while we’re married?” Anthony sneered. “Wait, you already did that.”
Elise’s cheeks turned bright red. “You ass,” she hissed, standing and grabbing her purse. “This is why I left you. You’re heartless. A brute, less than human—”
“I distinctly recall that I divorced you after I found you naked in our bed. With another man.”
The memory of that moment had forever seared itself onto Anthony’s mind. He pushed the memory away, refusing to allow Elise to sink her claws into him again.
“I want more money, or I’m going to the press and telling them everything,” she said.
Slowly standing up, Anthony rounded his desk and towered over Eli
se. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said silkily. “You don’t have the balls to ruin your reputation like that.”
“Do you want to chance it?”
Her voice wavered, and he knew she was bluffing. Disgusted, he pointed to the door. “Get out of my office. If I see you in my building again, I’ll have security toss you out.”
Her spine went ramrod straight. “Fine. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, then.”
Anthony didn’t even flinch when Elise slammed his office door behind her.
2
Thea shivered as she peeled off her sodden jacket, trying to find a light switch inside the darkened cabin. The rain continued to fall, pounding on the roof above. Thea finally gave up on trying to find a light switch and turned on her phone to use as a flashlight. Her bladder was about to explode, and it didn’t care one bit if she couldn’t see to find a bathroom.
Luckily there was a bathroom with just a toilet and sink on the first floor. After relieving herself, Thea ventured into the kitchen. She switched on the oven light, which provided enough illumination that she could get a better idea of her surroundings.
It was close to midnight. She’d planned on arriving earlier in the evening, but a late start coupled with a rainstorm that had turned the twisty forest roads into mud had slowed her down considerably. She’d almost thought about turning back, but her four-wheel drive SUV and her own stubbornness had forbidden her.
Her stomach growled, although fatigue pressed on her more than hunger. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for an entire day. Why was it that sitting on your butt in a car was so exhausting? Yawning, she went and brought in the groceries she’d brought with her and began to put them away.
It took her a long moment to realize that there was already food in the fridge. And food on the counter. Thea frowned. Had Ted, the cabin owner, not cleaned up after the previous people? Considering she’d had to put down a deposit in case she trashed the place, that hardly seemed fair.