by G. , Whitney
“Would you like some coffee before we begin?” I asked.
“No, not at all. I don’t plan to be here that long.”
“Excuse me?” I raised my eyebrow. “Did you need more time to read over my terms?”
“No, I read them all just fine.” She slid the yellow folder to me. “Here’s the non-disclosure agreement you asked me to sign, so no worries. If another firm calls to ask me about you, I won’t dare tell the truth or let them know that you’re practically a borderline psycho.”
This better be some type of joke... “Come again?”
“You heard me.” She opened another folder, a blue one. “I spent all night researching you and your issues before I read over your terms, so I find it quite ironic that you’re the one who needs a firm to help clean up your public image and work on your behalf, but the things you’re demanding make that completely impossible. In fact, most of what you’re requesting is worth far more than three million dollars, and I can now see why you paid it upfront.”
I started to ask what the hell she was talking about, but she continued to speak.
“First of all, you demand that we don’t book you for any interviews, and you refuse to practice getting any better at them?” She flipped a page. “This is coming from the man who said he can’t live without ‘fucking’ on live morning television last year? I don’t think so.”
“Furthermore,” she said, talking a mile a minute, “I’m not sure why you think you’re above attending strategy sessions with the team, but I’ve never allowed any client to skip those and you won’t be the first. Huge bank account or not.”
“Okay, Penelope, Rachel—whatever you want your name to be today.” I’d had enough of this shit already. “You can get the hell out of my office now.”
“I can get the hell out when I’m finished.” She glared at me, parting her sexy ass lips and I lost my next words.
At that moment, Leo stepped into the room, but he didn’t make his way over. Instead, he simply stood by the door and stared at us, staying far out of Penelope’s view.
“Second of all,” she said, looking down at her folder once more. “You demand that someone from my team be available on a twenty-four hour basis to personally make your coffee, ensure your dry cleaning is handled, and fetch your breakfast and lunch whenever you ask for it. That is never happening at Penelope Lauren & Associates. We are not interested in being a second branch of personal assistants for you.”
“Did you miss the part where I said you could get out of my office?”
“Third...” She ignored me. “You have some nerve to make a list of over fifty ridiculous demands that must be met on a weekly basis. They’re so beyond realistic that I’ll be surprised if any firm agrees to this.” She tossed the folder onto my desk and narrowed her eyes at me. “Even though this has made me see that you are unbearably cocky and impossible, I’ve done you a favor and made a list of things that I think will help soften your image over the next few months. I’ve also printed out the definitions of a few important terms you should know whenever you start searching for your next PR victim.”
I wanted to interrupt her never-ending rant, but I was aroused with every word that fell from her ruby red lips.
“Finally,” she said, standing to her feet. “I wish you all the best in your search for a publicist, Mr. Dalton. And so we’re clear on the last checkbox of your term sheet, I’ll verbally confirm it as you require: No, I will not represent you, and no, I will not agree to agree to any of your outlandish rules. Also, for the record, no I did not receive your handwritten note.” She finally took a breath. “I’ll be sending you a refund of your payment later this afternoon.”
“I personally think you should keep it,” I said, standing. “Maybe you can use it to buy some actual office space.”
“I’d prefer if you used it to buy some damn manners.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I liked you a lot better in my apartment, when I didn’t know who you were.”
I liked you a lot better when my cock was buried inside your pussy...
Before I could get a chance to say those words aloud, Leo walked toward us—clapping as if he’d just witnessed a real-life drama.
“Please don’t go, Miss.” He extended his hand to Penelope. “My name is Leo Dalton and I’m the CFO here. I’m also, unfortunately, Ryan’s brother.”
She looked back and forth between us before shaking his hand. “I’m Penelope Lauren.”
“Well, nice to meet you Penelope,” he said. “I’m sorry you’re not having a better introduction to Dalton International Estates & Realty. I would love to give you a formal tour and talk to you about our company if you’re up to it. I would also really appreciate it if you allowed us to start over.”
“There’s no need to start over,” I said, pulling out the business card he’d given me earlier. “Miss Lauren clearly doesn’t want to play by our rules and we have another option we can call.”
Leo snatched the card from my hand and ripped it to pieces. “Miss Lauren, if you don’t mind, can I speak to you alone so we can try to agree on some new terms? I’ll gladly welcome your input and I’ll be very gracious for the opportunity.” He looked at me, daring me to interrupt his words. ‘The tour will only take fifteen minutes and we can talk briefly afterwards in the board room. Just me and you.”
“I would love a tour,” she said. “Can I step outside and make a phone call first?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled at her. “Thank you, Miss Lauren.”
“Goodbye, Miss Lauren.” I couldn’t help myself.
“Mr. Dalton.” She gave me a look and left the room.
When the door closed, Leo picked up one of the folders she left behind. “You’ve been taking your own terms and stipulation contracts to the PR firms? I don’t recall anyone here helping you draft these.”
“That’s because I drafted them myself.”
“I see...” He put on his glasses and read my words aloud. “Clause Four: The representative company for the client will ensure that he is not subject to any bullshit meetings. Bullshit meetings include, but are not limited to: strategy sessions, interview preparations, or press readings.” He tossed the folder to the floor and looked at me. “If those are your terms, what’s the point in hiring a PR company at all?”
“You tell me.”
“You really are a piece of work,” he said. “But you know, I really like Miss Lauren—small firm or not. She’s the first person I’ve ever seen stand up to you.”
“She’ll also be the last.”
“We’ll see.” He picked up the folder labeled, “Ways to Better Mr. Dalton’s Image” and headed to the door. “Wait, one last thing. She mentioned something about you leaving her a handwritten note. What is she talking about?”
“A note she definitely read and received. She’s fucking with me by denying it.”
“Forget I asked.” He walked out of my office and I grabbed the last of Penelope’s folders. The one that read “Definitions for Mr. Dalton.” I flipped it open and saw she’d written definitions, but they were her own interpretations in regards to me:
Mr. Dalton,
There are three terms and definitions you need to know before you start your next search for a publicist and I’m happy to spell them out for you below:
PUBLICIST
This is what you need, Mr. Dalton. This is a person who can HELP you look like less of a cocky asshole to the press and your peers. This is also a person who you have to take direction from, not vice versa. (They run YOU. You don’t run THEM.)
MAGICIAN
This is what you need to FIND. This is the only person who can honestly help you right now...
COCKY, IMPOSSIBLE, ARROGANT CLIENT
No words are necessary for this one. The picture below should sum it all up for you.
My picture...
THE PUBLICIST
PENELOPE
“Here is where you’ll be free to bring your staff to the property fo
r onsite staff meetings whenever necessary.” Leo Dalton showed me into a massive meeting space that was at least three times the size of our entire firm. “If you follow me across the hall, I’ll show you our world class spa and fitness facility that you’ll be free to use whenever you’re here as well.”
I smiled and tried my best to look like I was giving him my full attention, but all I could think about was Ryan. How when I first stepped into his office, I had to completely resist the urge to tell him to take me against his desk and fuck me again. How my panties were instantly wet the second his dimples gave way with his smile.
How his jaw clenched when he realized I was going to reject his offer...
Despite the fact that the man was practically walking sex, his contract was nothing but red flags from the very first page. I knew the moment I read over it last night that there was no way I could agree to it. Three million on the line or not.
“Do you have any questions for me, Miss Lauren?” Leo led me onto the elevator.
“Not at the moment,” I said. “I really appreciate the tour.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He took off his reading glasses and let out a breath. “I have to be honest with you for a minute, Miss Lauren. I didn’t have much faith in a small firm handling Ryan well, and I figured you’d be out the door within minutes of meeting him. But, before I walked in on you two, I’d called around this city to get references from both your current and former clients. They all had nothing but great things to say, and a couple of your former ones even admitted that they regretted leaving you.” He paused. “That said, I’m assuming you’re looking to become a larger, full service firm in the future?”
“Yes, definitely.”
“Good.” He led me off the elevator and into the glittering lobby. Then he glanced at his phone. “I tell you what, Miss Lauren. I’ll draw up exactly what me and the board are going to need to see from Ryan over the next ninety days, and then I’ll send a temporary contract to you tonight. You can email and call me with your concerns at any time, but I’ll need an answer about the job in a week. Fair?”
“Almost,” I said honestly. “If you’re going to insist on a temporary contract, we need to renegotiate the financial terms for tax purposes. He already paid us for the year, which I’ll happily refund. I just don’t want to keep more than what you’re willing to pay for a shorter time.”
“How much has he paid you?”
“Three million.”
“That’s it?” He looked offended. “We’ve spent more than that killing negative press. I’ll double that for the ninety days.”
“What?” I was certain I misheard him.
“I’ll double it.” He smiled. “I’ll be sure to get the first draft of the contract to you tonight. My apologies for not being able to sit down with you anymore. I have to go put out another fire.”
“I understand.” I shook his hand. “Thank you for the tour, Mr. Dalton.”
“I’ll accept your ‘thank you’ after you accept my offer.” He laughed and returned to the elevator.
When the doors opened, Ryan stepped off and immediately stopped walking when his beautiful eyes met mine. I tried to turn away from him and rush out of the building, but I couldn’t will my feet to move.
He made his way over to me, giving me a look that made me wet all over again. “I would say that I look forward to potentially working with you, Miss Lauren,” he said, “but that would be a goddamn lie.”
“I feel the same, Mr. Dalton.” I ignored my frantic heartbeat. “I can admit that it was a pleasure seeing you again, though.”
“It was a pleasure seeing you underneath me two nights ago,” he said, his voice low. “It’ll only be a ‘pleasure’ for me if that happens again.”
“I can promise it won’t.”
“Then that’s too bad,” he said. “Because once again, I think you’re lying to me. This time it’s about not receiving my note.” He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “I’d be more than happy to leave you another one...”
I stepped back once I realized I was on the verge of giving into him again. “I hope you find whatever person you keep talking about, Mr. Dalton. Have a great day.” I turned away and rushed out of the lobby before he could respond, realizing that new terms or not, the tension between us was going to make this job more than impossible.
***
Later that night, I sat on my couch with a glass of wine in hand—reading over the new terms for the umpteenth time.
The board of Dalton International Estates & Realty only want me to complete three main things over the next ninety days: 1) A successful press tour for Ryan without incident “since he’s the face of our company and everyone loves a ‘changed man’ story.” 2) A strategic and public reveal about his private charity donations as “Behavior aside, Mr. Dalton has donated over three hundred million dollars to various charities he holds dear over the past few years.” 3) An “atonement style interview” with one of the anchors at RMC-TV for “an incident that was thankfully never seen or revealed to the public, but an incident that has caused a huge strain between our company and one of our lead suppliers.”
I was certain I could get Ryan through a successful press tour, even more certain that I could make sure every person in this city swooned over his impressive charity record, but I was confused about the “atonement style interview.”
I’d asked every person on my team to see if they could find out more about the “incident,” but they’d all come back to me with nothing but confusion.
Curious, I sent Leo an email.
Subject: Atonement Interview
Good evening, Mr. Dalton,
I’ve read over the contract thoroughly and am close to making a decision, but would you mind giving me a bit more information on the incident you want Ryan to be forgiven for? I was unable to find any information on this.
—Penelope
His response was immediate.
Subject: Re: Atonement Interview
Penelope,
See the attached video and promptly delete it after viewing.
—Leo Dalton
I clicked on the video and saw a grainy image of Ryan standing in a green room. He was attaching a wired mic to his suit jacket, smiling as a female producer handed him a stack of notecards.
For three straight minutes, he simply nodded his head as the producer went over a few facts with him.
I was about to ask Leo if he’d sent me the wrong video, but in the final thirty seconds of the clip, a man in a blue suit entered the room. He extended his hand for a handshake, but Ryan simply stared at him.
Then he punched him in the face.
The tape ended as the man in the blue suit fell to the ground, and Leo sent me another email.
Subject: Re: Re: Atonement Interview
Penelope,
The man Ryan assaulted (i.e. the TV host who was supposed to interview him that day) is the son of AJ Aguirre, the CEO of Aguirre Bedding. They supply all our linens at every international property, and we begin negotiations for a renewal term soon. So, surely you can understand why Ryan apologizing for what he did is key to defrosting our relationship with Aguirre.
Let me know if you need anything else,
—Leo
I watched the video a few more times and did a quick info search on AJ Aguirre and his son. Then I looked over the final clauses in the contract once more, confirming that most of the terms were in my firm’s favor.
“I don’t understand why this is such a hard decision for you, Pen.” Sean plopped down on the chair across from me. “They’re offering to pay you double for half the work in half the time, all for one client. What part do you really need to think about?”
“The part where I’ve previously slept with this one client and there’s an automatic termination clause in the contract for any fraternization.”
“You only have to worry about that if you plan on sleeping with him again, and your first time together doesn’t count.”
He set his beer on the table. “You don’t want to sleep with him again, right?”
“Right.” The lie rushed out of my mouth.
“Well, problem solved. Besides, I highly doubt Ryan Dalton would continue to bring up the fact that you’ve had sex while you’re working for him. Hell, given the fact that he really needs good PR right now, I’m willing to bet he’ll be a complete professional.”
I poured myself another glass of wine and steered clear of that line of conversation. “You know, the terms of this contract are more than amazing, and six million is more than enough to keep my firm afloat for a long time. And with the money, I can even hire a few part time assistants and outsource some much needed research help for any incoming clients.”
“Six million will also allow you to buy me a much-deserved Tesla for Christmas, so thank you in advance.” He joked, but then his tone changed completely. “It would also help you get rid of a certain someone sooner rather than later.”
“Huh? A certain someone?” I shrugged. “Who are you talking about?”
“Did the two of you wipe off the bottom of your shoes before coming into the living room today?” Sarah stared at Sean with a panicked look on her face, wielding a tube of wipes.
“Yes.” Sean uncapped another beer. “I’m pretty sure I did that, Sarah. I also sanitized my hands before grabbing my beers from the fridge and wiped down every surface I touched in the kitchen. Would you like me to start taking showers in your guest bathroom before sitting on the furniture as well?”
“Would you really do that?” She smiled. “That’s amazing and so very thoughtful of you.”
Sean shot me a “What the hell?” look and I immediately emailed Leo.
Subject: Client Representation Offer
Mr. Dalton,
I happily accept the terms of your offer and I can start ASAP.
Penelope Lauren
THE CLIENT
RYAN
Subject: P. Lauren & Associates
Ryan,
Penelope has graciously accepted our financial package in exchange for representing you for a limited time. She will officially begin this morning, so PLEASE try to make this work. With the date now set for the global initiative launch, we don’t have room for any unwanted media attention.