Then I remembered what my sister had said. You’re famous, Tori. People love you. They’re hailing you as a hero for the people who have been wronged by the conglomerates of the world.
With my stomach in knots and my heart in my throat, I clicked out of the video before fully understanding why she’d said what she had. The video already had a million views, and the number was climbing right before my very eyes.
Comments were rolling in underneath it, and although most people were on my side, it still made my nausea worse to read some of them. A million views and counting in one night? How could that happen?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Kari said, “but there’s no point in trying to get it taken down. It’s all over social media and some television stations have already picked it up. I wouldn’t be surprised if reporters start calling you for a comment.”
I groaned loudly, folding my arms on the table and then gently bringing my head down to rest on them. “Who could’ve uploaded it? Do you know? This is a complete mess.”
“Why? I think it’s amazing. Do you have any idea how many people are in the same boat as you? Maybe they didn’t get screwed by the same company, but there are tons of people who’ve said they felt like their hands weren’t even just tied, but totally cut off.”
“I’m sure people feel that way, but I did it as a laugh.” Slowly but surely, pieces of the night were coming back to me. “When I got there, I was upset with him. People noticed I wasn’t being myself and they obviously noticed I was dressed like an elf. We plied ourselves with alcohol, and the more we talked, the more we wanted to stick it to the man somehow.”
“Okay, but I still don’t get why it’s a problem. It might even serve as a deterrent for other companies to do the same thing. Especially at this time of year. You stood up for a lot of people by doing it.”
“I also let the world know about my beef with Benjamin because I basically just laid down a diss track about him. It’s embarrassing.”
Just imagining how many people had, and still were, watching my drunken rant made me want to crawl into a hole and disappear. Kari kept trying to make me feel better, but there was no taking back what I had done.
A sliver of fear crept through me when I realized he could probably sue me for this. I didn’t have much for him to win if he did, but it would be hell. My name would be dragged through the mud by an army of expensive lawyers, and I’d get blacklisted by every company for here to Timbuktu.
Everything I’d worked so hard for would’ve been for naught if that happened, and for what? A few laughs I only vaguely remembered. My stomach couldn’t handle the thought, and I clamped my hand over my mouth as I ran for the bathroom.
After very ungracefully saying goodbye to the coffee and whatever alcohol had remained inside me, I pressed a cold compress to my head and went back to bed. A few hours later, I woke up again, and this time, it was because my phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
The video and all the possible consequences slammed into me all at once, and I contemplated letting it ring until whoever it was gave up, but I couldn’t do it. I hadn’t even realized I’d dozed off, but my eyelids felt like they’d been glued shut, which meant I’d been in a pretty deep sleep. My phone had to have been ringing for ages to rouse me from that.
When I finally managed to pry my eyes open, I lifted my phone from the nightstand and noticed my battery was critically low. Rummaging around for the charging cable, I swiped the green bar to answer the unknown number while plugging it in.
“Hi. Is this Tori? It’s Melissa from Candy Dancer Incorporated. We met on the day of your audition.”
My mouth went dry all over again. Melissa was my boss, and although she didn’t sound angry, it couldn’t be a good sign that she was calling me herself. Perhaps she’s worried that my next outburst will be about her.
“It’s Tori,” I confirmed. “Listen, about the video—”
“That’s why I’m calling,” she practically squealed, making my brain want to cave in on itself instead of dealing with the increased severity of the headache I was already suffering. “We’re so excited about it. You were wonderful.”
“Excuse me?” I croaked, my eyes screwed shut.
“We’ve been inundated with phone calls requesting you all morning, girl. You’re a star. Everyone and their mothers want to hire you. You’re going to make a fortune off that video.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t really know what else to say.
“You’re welcome.” She giggled. “It’s not me you should be thanking, though. It’s yourself and whoever thought to record and upload that video. We’re proud to have someone of your talent working for us, Tori. We loved it. You’ve got some great pipes on you, lady.”
Only when I’m drunk, I wanted to say but didn’t. After this, I wasn’t drinking so much ever again and I didn’t want her thinking it was something I did often.
“Thank you,” I offered again lamely. “I’ll appreciate whatever jobs you book for me.”
After assuring me that I’d have my pick of upcoming jobs, Melissa said her goodbyes. She sounded even more excited by the end of the call than she had at the beginning.
Tossing my phone down on the bed and not even caring that it got swallowed up by the bedding almost instantly, I slammed my back down on the mattress and covered my face with my pillow once more.
It was difficult to believe that a month ago, my life had been dependable, monotonous, and there hadn’t been a whiff of scandal to be found. I was comforted by Melissa’s call and grateful for the job I had now, but I couldn’t help wishing things would just go back to the way they used to be.
If I could’ve had a do-over of the last month of my life, that would’ve been great. But I knew there was no such thing. I just had to figure out a way to adapt to my new normal. Oh, and to defend myself when Benjamin Reed inevitably came calling.
Shots had been fired between us before, but I’d upped the game to a whole different level. And I suddenly wasn’t so sure I wanted to play anymore.
Chapter 18
BEN
Over a month after the video had first seen the light of day, my brand was still suffering from the torpedo Tori had fired into it. Steven, Carl, and I had all underestimated just how much damage one little viral clip could do.
The story about me firing my workers right before Christmas had built up a lot of ill will toward the company, and the share prices had taken a hit because of it. I wasn’t happy, and neither was my board of directors.
And to think, it’s all because of the woman I asked out once upon a time.
As much as I knew I’d been a monstrous dick to her the night she made that video, I really didn’t feel like I deserved the hatred of the entire working class that had been raining down on me. I was bitter about it, but that wasn’t even what pissed me off the most.
The worst part of it was that every night when I was trying to fall asleep and couldn’t, I thought back to the dance she’d done that night and how fucking sexy she was. Not only had she blown a huge hole into the profits of my company, but she’d also burrowed herself nice and fucking firmly into my mind.
As a result, she was everywhere. For more than a month now, I had heard her name at the office, in my board meetings, on the television, and even in my very own dreams. She’d taken me over, and she didn’t even know it.
I didn’t know when it would end—or how—but I needed it to. The fervor about the video itself had died down in recent weeks, but the attention was still very much on Reed Global and companies like it. There had been tons of interviews with people who had been fired by others, and the limelight was being shone on so-called ruthless company practices.
My peers in the industry didn’t appreciate the microscope on our policies any more than I did. Once everything was said and done, that video had done a lot more than just name and shame me as the asshole I’d been to her that night.
To make matters worse, my lawyers had contacted me saying that t
hey needed to discuss Nic’s motion to have our pre-nup voided. As I sat in one of the meeting rooms at their firm, I felt the same undercurrent of frustration stirring in my veins that always seemed to be no more than a few seconds away these days.
Professional frustration, personal frustration, sexual frustration. My word for the fucking year was going to have to be frustration. And it’s only goddamn January.
“I don’t know what she wants from me anymore,” I snapped at my lead counsel, an older man named Henry with graying hair but a mind as sharp as a tack.
He lifted his hands, his twinkling eyes imploring me to stay calm behind his round glasses. “Mrs. Reed is insisting that you’ve been hiding assets all along. She’s using that allegation to make a case for misrepresentation. Believe it or not, she’s even brought duress into it. On paper, it doesn’t look good for us.”
“That’s why we asked you in today,” his sidekick, whose name I never remembered, chimed in. “Just in case you’re asked to provide a full and thorough accounting of all your holdings.”
“My accountants will easily be able to do so, but it shouldn’t matter because Nic signed a pre-nup. She’s not entitled to any more than she’s already gotten, and seeing how much there is left for her to try to get is only going to encourage her.”
“We know that, Mr. Reed,” Henry said, “but we have to anticipate any move that might be thrown at us. Given her latest allegations, it’s very possible we’ll be asked to account for absolutely everything from the day you married her to date.”
“That’s bullshit,” I muttered, gripping the hair at the nape of my neck after running my hands through it multiple times. “When is it going to end, gentlemen? And what are you doing to end it?”
“We anticipate a win in these proceedings, but we have to prepare for the worst. Once we have this motion in the bag, it should take Mrs. Reed and her team some time before they come up with their next plan of attack. As you know, however, there’s nothing we can do to prevent her from instituting legal proceedings.”
“Yeah, sure.” It had been made clear to me that it wasn’t as easy to bar people from litigating as it should be. Surely, if you strike out against a certain person based on essentially the same thing enough times, the courts should keep you out.
Apparently, our legal system didn’t work that way. Great. Now I’m even frustrated with the principles of legal fairness.
Henry had taken the time to explain it to me once, so I had a basic idea of why I kept having to face Nic in court. I couldn’t say I didn’t feel like someone should come up with a better solution, though. Especially when it came to drawn-out divorces. There had to come a time when lawyers or a judge or someone should’ve been allowed to take the whip out of a person’s hand so they’d stop flogging the dead horse.
It seemed I was the only one who felt that way, though. Sighing as I resigned myself to having to go through the numbers with them all afternoon, I pulled out my phone and dialed my lead accountant. I placed the device down on the table, pressing the button to put him on speakerphone.
“Jason,” I said once he’d picked up. “You’re on speaker with me and Henry’s team. We might need to keep you on the line for a while. Unless you can come down here and bring proof of everything I’ve ever fucking made with you.”
“It might take me some time to gather all the paperwork,” he replied, “but I’d be happy to answer whatever questions you’ve got in the meantime, Henry.”
The lead counsel looked happy that I was cooperating, and he and his people jumped in to question my accountant. Jason had been working for me for years, so he was able to answer most of their questions without skipping a beat.
I could hear his computer clicking in the background and the clacking of his keyboard as he verified information before relaying it. Surprisingly, it only took a few minutes before they’d asked most of what they needed to.
Once Jason had hung up, I pocketed my phone again. “What else are you going to need from me? I’m not hiding anything in the Caymans or anywhere else. Let’s just prove it and get it over with.”
A sudden burst of music from the hallway interrupted whatever Henry had been about to say. Turning my head, I looked out the strip of vertical window that lined the door and saw a few people scurrying down the hall as the music got louder.
“Oh dear,” one of Henry’s colleagues murmured. “Was it Monroe’s birthday today? I thought it was tomorrow.”
I didn’t understand what the music had to do with someone’s birthday, not until I saw a familiar figure walking past. She was dressed up in a tight, sparkly blue jumpsuit carrying a bunch of balloons. There was a powdered wig and a hat on her head, but there was no mistaking who she was.
Angry flames licked at the insides of my veins when I recognized her, my frustration ramping up several more levels when I realized she’d now infiltrated even my goddamn lawyer’s office. Jumping up, I yanked the door open and stuck out my head to see Tori, all decked out in her presidential finest, knocking on the door of another office.
When it opened, she started performing a dance to an upbeat, sexy version of “Happy Birthday” flowing from a small speaker on the floor behind her. My blood boiled, the intensity of emotions ripping me up inside at seeing her again surprising the hell out of even me.
Thankfully, the song wasn’t very long. It ended about twenty seconds before I lost my shit all over the law firm’s expensive carpet, and the small crowd gathered applauded her. She gave the office occupant the balloons and a card, along with a smile I’d certainly never been at the receiving end of.
If I was being honest with myself, I’d admit that it made my knees weak to see it. In the limited interactions we’d had, I’d only seen her smiling once and that had been that day in the restaurant—before I’d fucked up for the first time with her by sending over the dessert. I still didn’t know what had pissed her off about that so badly, or who had ended up eating the darn thing.
After posing for a few pictures, she started back down the hall but missed a step when she saw me looking at her. She acknowledged me with the slightest of nods when she walked by, but I wasn’t about to let that slide. Not after everything she’d done.
Before I could stop myself, I was going after her. I caught up to her in a few strides, closing my fingers firmly around her wrist before guiding her into an unoccupied conference room. Kicking the door shut behind us, I let go of her but blocked her exit by folding my arms and staying in front of it.
Her lilac-blue eyes flashed with something between surprise, fear, and uncertainty before she crossed her own arms and met my gaze without wavering. Of everything I’d been expecting, fear certainly hadn’t been on my radar.
Have I been so terrible to her that she’s actually afraid of me? No. That couldn’t be possible. I had to have misread that.
Dismissing the thought from my mind, I tried not to notice how good she looked and got on with it instead.
“Tori. It’s been a while. Has business been good?” At the expense of mine, I didn’t add. There was more than enough hostility between us as it was.
She nodded once, her expression guarded. “It’s been especially good actually. Thank you for asking.”
“You must have your little video to thank for that.”
Freezing before letting out an awkward laugh, she widened her eyes at me before shrugging. “Oh, you saw that. I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
“You were hoping I wouldn’t?” I repeated dumbly. “Are you serious? That video has cost me several million dollars in share prices dropping. Trust me, I saw it. Several times actually, since it was waved in my face by every fucking reporter in the city for a couple of weeks every time I set foot outside.”
“I’m sorry, Benjamin,” she whispered, seemingly having lost her voice to shock over my admission. “I didn’t post it and I never intended for it to happen.”
“Ben,” I replied irritably. “You’ve fucked me hard enough. Why bother with form
alities after all that?”
“I said I didn’t mean for it to happen. Although I take back my apology since you’re still being an ass. For what it’s worth, I didn’t even know it was being recorded.”
“Is that supposed to make it better?” I huffed out a dry laugh. “I get that I embarrassed you, and I’m sorry about that, but were a few stupid comments in front of my friends really worth millions?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask yourself that question,” she retorted, eyes flashing with anger. “It doesn’t look like you’ve learned anything from it. You certainly don’t treat people any better.”
I scoffed. “Like you’d know. You don’t know the first thing about how I really treat people.”
“You’re right. All I know is how you treat people you consider beneath you. That’s all I really need to know.” She paused, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving underneath her skin-tight jumpsuit. “I don’t have time for this.”
For some fucked-up reason, our argument and the fire in her eyes kicked my libido into hyperdrive. Seeing her again, dressed like that and just as fiery and sassy as ever, did things to me I probably needed to see a therapist about.
When she tried to brush past me to reach the door, I grabbed her and caged her body against it with my own. “You know, usually if someone screws me the way you have, they buy me dinner first. Also, you don’t know the first fucking thing about how I treat the people I get beneath me. Anytime you want to find out, let me know. I’ve never had any complaints before.”
“If you want dinner, you’ll have to settle for a birthday-cake flavored candy bar.” She produced just that from a hidden pocket. I took it and tossed it aside.
Her head was tilted back, her eyes fixed on mine. I felt her chest rising and falling fast against my own and saw how her pupils dilated as she swiped her tongue across her lower lip in a lightning fast move.
Love Your Moves: A Billionaire Valentine's Romantic Comedy Page 11