by Nikki Chase
We all know this is just warm-up. None of this is going to make it into whatever article she’ll write. Still, we pretend it actually matters.
Then, Melanie bares her teeth—metaphorically, of course. We’re civilized people. We don’t actually assume aggressive stances to threaten one another with physical violence. We just smile while we secretly stab one another in the back.
“Have you heard any feedback from the local community about your property in Northdeer?”
“Before we start any project, we always have extensive conversations with the local elected officials and community leaders,” I answer, recalling the words from Eliza’s talking points.
“I see. There are allegations that local businesses and property owners have faced intimidation from Hunter Corporation. Are you aware of these allegations?”
“Yes. I try to keep abreast of any new developments related to my business. With the size of our portfolio, you understand that I can’t possibly keep track of every single thing that happens, but Eliza here is great at bringing the more important issues to my attention.” I glance at Eliza, who gives me an approving look that tells me I’m doing great at sticking to the script.
I don’t like having someone tell me what to do, but dealing with the press is not my area of expertise.
A couple of years ago, Hunter Corporation got hit by a ton of bad publicity, and my honest responses weren’t helping. It got so bad that our profits were hurt. At that point, I had to swallow my pride and hire a PR expert.
I can’t jeopardize everything I’ve worked so hard for, just because I can’t control what I say. Control is key. And if it takes a PR expert to take back that control, then so be it.
“How have you responded to these particular allegations in Northdeer?” Melanie asks.
“As I’ve already stated in many other interviews, Hunter Corporation used to subcontract the acquisition of land and construction of structures to another company. We have severed all business relationships with this company.” I don’t need any notes to answer this question. I’ve answered it eighty-three times. It seems to be a favorite among journalists.
“Are you talking about Primaland?”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” I answer.
“You’re the CEO, Ethan. Surely, you can say anything you want?”
“I’m sorry, Melanie. This is not something I can discuss with you.” I smile at her. I’m being friendly, but also making it clear that I’m not going to let her push me into a corner.
“Okay, let’s move on to something lighter, then.” Her lips curl up, but the way she stares at me leaves no doubt in my mind: she’s going for blood now. “You’re often photographed with your daughter, Penny. You’re shown picking her up, taking her for ice cream… It’s adorable.”
“Thank you. My daughter is the most important person in the world to me, and I enjoy spending time with her.” This is the most genuine statement I’ve said so far in this interview.
“That’s really sweet, Ethan.”
“I’m sure I’m not the only dad who feels that way about his daughter.” I smile and brace myself for what I know is about to come.
“Not every CEO has the time to pick up his daughter from school every day.”
“I can’t comment on how other people parent. This is the only way I know how to be a dad.” I shrug. I wish she’d just get to the point, rather than act like she cares.
“I have some questions related to the way you parent, actually. I’m sure you know people are talking. They say you’re only pretending for the cameras,” Melanie says, finally getting to the heart of the matter.
“People say all kinds of things.”
“Are you picking up your daughter today?”
“Well, no. But today is an exception. Penny’s school let out early today, and I wouldn’t have been able to make this interview if I picked her up.”
“I see. So sometimes business comes first after all, huh?”
“Well, no. It’s just a minor scheduling issue,” I say with a practiced smile.
Bitch, I curse in my head. You don’t think I’d rather be eating ice cream with my daughter than sitting here getting grilled by you, a stranger and a nobody?
“I’m sure you’re also aware of how your ex-wife, Ashley Hunter, has gone public with her story, saying that you’ve been keeping her away from Penny, her own daughter,” Melanie says.
“Yes. It’s what the court decided. The presiding judge gave me full custody of Penny.”
“Your ex-wife is contesting that decision. In fact, she has teamed up with Primaland to call you a liar and a bully in the media,” she continues.
“And a monster, too. Let’s not forget that.” I chuckle.
“You seem to find it amusing. Aren’t you afraid of losing your daughter?”
“The media may be able to influence public opinion, Melanie. But ultimately the courts make the final decision.”
“Your ex-wife accuses you of using your money and influence to gain the upper hand in court. What do you say to that?”
“I say I haven’t done anything illegal.”
“Not illegal, I agree. But judges are members of the public, too, Ethan. The shift in public opinion may affect your custody arrangement.”
“I’ll let the courts decide,” I reply calmly with a smile as I lean back in my couch, even though my blood is boiling inside.
“Your ex-wife also alleges that you’re keeping Penny away from her out of spite. She claims you’re putting on a show when you’re seen with her in public.”
“That’s just not true, Melanie.” I stick to short answers as she comes up with one infuriating statement after another. I can’t risk saying something out of anger. It will only become fodder for the press.
“I want to believe you, Ethan. But you just told me yourself that you’re not picking up your daughter because of this interview. Is it more important to you to present a certain image to the public, than it is to provide good care for your daughter?”
“Not at all. I don’t think it’s fair to judge my parenting from the little slice of my life that you see.”
I inwardly curse at Eliza. She has been telling me what an important interview this is, and how I can’t miss it. Well, maybe it is. But I really can do without this woman’s attacks and negativity. I should’ve skipped it altogether.
“Unfortunately, Ethan, a slice of your life is all I get to see, and it’s all the material I have for my article,” Melanie says.
Before I can open my mouth to answer, the door opens. No knocking, no warning.
I’m sitting with my back toward the door, so I twist to take a look. This is highly unusual, and I don’t like it. I don’t like not knowing what’s happening.
Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. All conversation grinds to a halt. The only sounds are the soft tapping of sneakers on the tiles, and the sharp clicking of high heels not far behind.
“Hi, Dad,” Penny says casually, waving as she enters the room.
Megan follows behind her, looking distraught as she shuts the door behind her. Her gaze flicks wildly between Eliza, Melanie, and me.
I frown at the two of them.
What the fuck do they think they’re doing?
Megan
“You have to do something, Megan,” Penny repeats. The blood has drained from her face, and her dilated pupils darken her blue eyes.
“What’s wrong, Penny? Calm down.” I don’t even know what the problem is, so how am I supposed to do anything?
“They’re going to take me away. I can’t…” Her sentence hangs in the air as she hyperventilates, pumping air into her small lungs.
What could be going on inside Mr. Hunter’s office? All I know is there’s an interview right now, but I have no idea what it’s about, or how it affects Penny.
All I know is it’s important enough for Eliza Dahl from PR to join him today.
She’s this talented, hard-working young woma
n who always seems to know what to say. She always looks professional in her fashionable blazers, and she can smooth out any difficult situation—it’s like a superpower.
Sometimes, Mr. Hunter does smaller interviews that he doesn’t even prepare for. But for this particular one, he’s been emailing back and forth with Eliza for days.
“Penny, just sit down for a minute. Come on.” I get up and put my hands on her shoulders, intending to gently guide her toward the waiting area, where the couches are.
There’s nothing she or I could do. As much as it sucks, we’re powerless, so we might as well just sit back and relax.
“There’s no time!” Penny insists.
“Penny.” I bend down to level my gaze at her. “What is it that I’m supposed to do? What is going on? I need to know if you want me to help you.”
“They’re going to take me away,” she repeats. She looks so desperate it breaks my heart. “You need to do something.”
“I don’t know how to help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Tell me, how am I supposed to help you?” I ask, getting worried and frustrated.
Damn it, I think I might like this kid after all. Why do I even care about her? She’s the daughter of my enemy.
“I don’t know,” Penny snaps. “You’re the adult here. You’re supposed to know what to do. You’re almost twice my age.”
She even remembers what I said in the cab, even in her panicked state. She may be a kid, but she’s smart and perceptive. Maybe something really bad is really going on in there.
But what can I do? I may be an adult, but I’m also just a personal assistant.
Penny stares at the floor. Her eyebrows are taut, her gaze focused. She’s thinking. Concentrating.
“Okay. I know what to do. Just follow my lead,” Penny says.
Before I can react, Penny pushes her dad’s office door open.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
I’m supposed to babysit her. Now she’s entering Mr. Hunter’s office—which is already off-limits, even under normal circumstances—during an important interview.
What do I do?
Penny glances back at me, imploring me to back her up with her eyes.
Damn it, I can’t say no to those eyes.
Besides, I’m already in trouble anyway for letting Penny enter Mr. Hunter’s office. I might as well commit to whatever this is.
“Hi, Dad,” Penny says casually as she enters the office, all traces of panic or uncertainty gone from her demeanor.
Jesus. I have to say I’m impressed. She’s good.
I trail behind her, not sure what’s happening or what I should do. I’m completely out of my depth here.
For the few months that I’ve been working here, I’ve been playing it safe. I’m not supposed to be pulling this kind of stunts.
Mr. Hunter glares at Penny, then at me. I avert my gaze and act like I’m busy with the door, like it takes all my concentration just to push it closed.
“Penny!” Mr. Hunter exclaims. To my surprise, he doesn’t sound angry at all. If anything, he sounds happy to see her, even if his eyes are still shooting darts at her.
I wonder if this father-daughter ruse has to do with the woman sitting on the couch right now.
She looks professional in her beige business suit. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a neat bun. She’s smiling, but her expression remains somewhat stern. She’s probably the interviewer.
I smile at her and Eliza, who is staring at me with her eyebrows raised, as if to ask me, what the fuck is going on?
Even if I could speak freely, I’d still have no answers for Eliza.
“How was your day? It’s nice that they let you off early, huh?” Mr. Hunter asks as he welcomes Penny into his arms.
I slowly, awkwardly approach the sitting area, where everyone is, and stand politely off to the side, right by the couch where Mr. Hunter is sitting. I figure it’s probably best to stay close to Penny.
“Yeah, but I missed you, Dad.” To my surprise, Penny slides onto her dad’s lap. For some reason, I never expected Mr. Hunter to get this affectionate with another human being, even if the human in question was small, adorable, and shared his DNA.
“Aww, I missed you, too, honey.” Mr Hunter kisses Penny’s forehead as she leans back in his chest.
“Hi, Penny. My name is Melanie,” the interviewer says as she shoots Penny a smile.
“Hi, Melanie,” Penny says with the sweetest smile on her face.
To me, though, she looks like she has a plan and is feeling smug about it. I may have only spent a little time with her, but I recognize that look from my own reflection in the mirror.
“How was school today?” Melanie asks.
“Good.”
“That’s good. I’m sorry for keeping your dad busy so he couldn’t pick you up.”
“That’s okay. He picks me up most days.”
“And if he can’t make it, I suppose his assistant is happy to do it?” Melanie briefly glances at me before returning her attention to Penny.
“Huh? Who are you talking about?” Penny asks, putting on a clueless face. What is she planning?
“This nice lady, of course.” Melanie turns to me and smiles.
I return her smile, feeling self-conscious about having her attention on me, knowing I’m not even supposed to be here.
“Oh, Megan is not my dad’s assistant.”
“She’s not?” Melanie asks.
Thank you, Melanie. I was just about to ask Penny the same question myself.
“No, Megan is my new mom,” Penny says casually.
My jaw drops, and I can only stare at Penny in shock.
What the hell is happening?
I’m not the only one who’s surprised.
Melanie twists toward me so fast I thought her neck was going to snap. She eyes me up and down, sizing me up. Then, she picks up her pen and scribbles furiously on the notepad in her lap.
Meanwhile, both Mr. Hunter and Eliza can’t seem to decide where to look. They stare at me, then at Penny, then at each other, then at Melanie, who’s still busy taking notes.
“Ethan, I had no idea you’d gotten married. This is huge news,” Melanie says as her hand finally stops moving and she raises her head back up to observe Mr. Hunter. “You seem surprised.”
“Oh, no,” Penny says, feigning innocence. “I’m sorry, Dad. I forgot I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”
Eliza is the first one to jump in to save the interview. “I’m sorry, Melanie,” she says with a calm smile. “Mr. Hunter is just surprised because he—well, the whole family—they intended to keep it a secret. Only temporarily, of course.”
“Oh, any reason why the public is to be kept in the dark about this happy news?” Melanie asks. Now that she thinks I’m part of the family, she looks at me, too, when she asks a question.
I finally regain enough composure to return Melanie’s smile, but I still can’t find the right words to say. I’ve never been the focus of a media interview before. I’ve only ever been on the other side.
From what I can tell, even Mr. Hunter gets briefed before an interview. Right now, I’m supposed to come up with answers to a fictional situation that I’m not even aware of. This is like some kind of a weird improv skit.
“Please excuse Miss Jones,” Eliza says. “She’s not used to being in the limelight, as you can probably tell. With the media storm surrounding Hunter Corporation and Mr. Hunter’s family right now, you understand why we’re careful about this.”
“Oh, I understand,” Melanie says. “But, Miss Jones, if I may say something, sooner or later you’re going to be the focus of some huge news articles. I’d try to get used to it if I were you. There’s really no escaping it.”
“Tha—” My voice sounds weird and squeaky, so I pause to clear my throat before I continue. I make a second attempt and say, “Thank you.”
“I notice you just called her Miss Jones, Eliza,” Melanie says. “Is there a r
eason why? I’d think Mrs. Hunter would be a more appropriate way to address her. Don’t you agree, Ethan?”
Quickly, Eliza answers, “Until we decide how to approach this, we’d like to keep everything exactly the same. We don’t want anybody finding out by accident because of a slip of the tongue, like we just witnessed together,” she says with a small laugh.
“That makes sense. But you understand that, now that I’m aware of this, I can’t just sit on the news,” Melanie says.
“We’d appreciate it if you could omit this part of the conversation for now,” Eliza says. “No other news source is aware of this yet, so you’ll still be the first to break the news. We’ll even give you an exclusive interview if you agree to keep it quiet for as long as you can.”
“An exclusive interview and a photography session with the whole family,” Melanie negotiates.
“Deal.” Eliza smiles. Glancing at her watch, she adds, “Now, I believe we’ve hit the one-hour limit for this interview. Mr. Hunter has another meeting scheduled in a few minutes, so I think we should end this session. We’ll continue on another day, when we’re ready for that exclusive interview and photography session.”
“Oh, I’d like to get a few more details before I go. Like, Miss Jones,” Melanie says as she turns toward me, “What is your first name?”
“Meg—”
“Miss Jones, please, let me.” Eliza cuts me off, her expression friendly but firm. To Melanie, she says, “Miss Jones would like to maintain her anonymity for as long as possible, so I hope you understand if we withhold her full name. Mr. Hunter, Penny, and Miss Jones—they’re just a family like any other family. Privacy is very important to them.”
“Of course. I understand.” Melanie’s face falls, but she forces a smile.
Obviously, the journalist still wants to dig more information. She stares at me, like she’s memorizing the way I look so she can describe my appearance to her readers.
For a second, I consider crouching under Mr. Hunter’s couch, just in case Melanie pulls out her cell phone and starts taking pictures of me. But that would be downright crazy.
In a smooth social maneuver, Eliza gets Melanie to stand up and follow her to the door. She glances back at Mr. Hunter before walking out, seemingly to let him know she’s coming back soon.