by Hannah Ford
On the way, Nicole brought up what he’d said earlier about her changing positions at the company. “I don’t want to leave the creative group,” she said, as he flipped radio stations, finally landing on some British sounding person discussing the stock market.
Red swore as they hit traffic. “How is it possible that we’re hitting traffic at this time of morning?”
“Red, did you hear me?”
He glanced at her and pursed his lips tightly. “I liked it better when you called me sir.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I,” he quipped.
“I’m not quitting my job,” she said, tilting her chin proudly.
“I never said you should quit, but you’re my fiancé now, and it’s not appropriate for you to work as an intern. It’s not fitting, it’s a lowly position and I won’t stand for it.”
“What would I be doing instead?”
“There’s a public relations position that’s perfect for you. You’d be working directly under me,” he said, a glint in his eye.
“That’s kind of a big step up from being an intern, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps it’s skipping a rung or three on the ladder.”
Nicole shook her head. “I don’t want special treatment. Nobody will respect me if I get preferential treatment as your girlfriend—I mean, fiancé.”
His hands tightened on the wheel. “I’m starting to get annoyed, Nicole.”
“I haven’t earned that position,” she snapped back.
He seethed for a moment, and luckily the traffic broke so he could speed down the highway and let some of his anger out on the road instead of her. Finally, he appeared to have collected his thoughts. “You’re not drawing a salary right now,” he said, his voice even, if a little strained. “Do you want to get an allowance from me, instead of a decent wage and a job you can be proud of?”
He had a point there. Her parents had cut her off financially and she needed to make money. Red had billions at his disposal, but she didn’t simply want to glom on to him, it wasn’t her style.
“I don’t know what to do about my money situation,” she admitted.
“Good,” he said. “I’m glad you’re seeing the light. So you’ll take the PR job, and we’ll pay you a very nice salary; something on the order of ninety-five to start.”
“Ninety-five what?”
“Ninety-five thousand a year.”
She guffawed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“It’s not a lot of money for New York City,” he replied.
“Well, it’s too much. And I’m not taking that job.”
“Then you’ll take an allowance.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I suppose I’ll keep working with the creative group, but I’ll need to make a little money for it. Just enough so that I can pay my few bills and help Danielle out with rent.”
“Danielle. Your old roommate?”
“My current roommate.”
Red breathed heavily through his nostrils. “You live with me now.”
“I’m going to have to give her some money, at least a month’s rent to help out until she finds a replacement for me.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he told her, turning onto 5th Avenue, where traffic was getting congested once again. He slowed to a crawl.
“I can’t let you do that, Red.”
“You’re being ridiculous, now.” He glanced sideways at her. “You don’t have any money, and I have more than I know what to do with.”
“I can’t let you just take over everything. I need to still have some kind of independence. I need to earn it.”
“Oh, you will,” he smirked.
“Not like that.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “I suppose you’ll have to learn the hard way then.”
“I always do.”
“I’ll speak with Edward this morning and let him know that you’ll be added as a permanent member of his team. You won’t be an intern anymore, you’ll be Assistant to the Art Director, Remi Danvers.”
Nicole clapped her hands together. “That’s perfect. I love Remi.”
“How wonderful for you,” he said, sarcastically. “You’ll only make about thirty-six thousand a year,” he told her.
“That’s too much.”
Now he was truly annoyed and it showed in his voice. “It’s the absolute lowest salary for that position. We don’t pay any lower.”
“Oh. Okay then.” She was humbled, realizing that she was negotiating with her fiancé, and also the CEO of the company.
Red smiled ever so slightly. “I think you might find that it would have been better to come work for me,” he said.
“I love my team.”
“But after today, will they still love you? That’s the question.”
***
It was strange walking into the building as Red Jameson’s fiancé. She was wearing a huge rock of an engagement ring, for one thing. It was also bizarre to think that in a short while she’d technically own half of this company.
Red had made it clear he wasn’t interested in a prenuptial agreement—she would be his true other half.
The knowledge made her both giddy and frightened all at once. She felt powerful and dangerous and suddenly regal. It was as if her spine had lengthened by two or three inches. Now, when she walked down the hall to her cubicle, she held her head high, smiled and nodded at the other employees as they passed by her.
After grabbing a cup of coffee, Nicole sat in her cube and got to work on Remi’s latest project. She’d finally completed the dancing cowboy assignment and now it was onto bigger and better—or at least different—tasks.
About two hours into her workday, she received a rare email from Edward. Usually she communicated with Glen or Remi, and almost never with Edward. This was an invite to the Monday morning creative team meeting. As an intern, she’d never attended it previously.
With butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Nicole accepted the invitation.
An hour later, she made her way to the conference room with its long, dark mahogany table and intimidating, black leather chairs. Everyone was sitting there already, talking—and their voices died down when she came in the room.
There were a few other faces present at the meeting besides the usual cast of characters, people who worked with the creative group that she wasn’t as familiar with. An older, salt and pepper haired man dressed in an impeccably fashionable suit. And a gorgeous younger woman that seemed to be only a year or two older than Nicole herself.
“Should I shut the door?” she squeaked, all of her earlier confidence dissipating like early morning fog did when the sun came up.
Edward nodded curtly. Then he turned to Glen. “So, now that the whole team is here, why don’t you start us off?” he said.
Was it her imagination, or did his comment about the “whole team” being here sound slightly bitter? She decided it was probably just her imagination. She didn’t even know if Red had told him anything yet.
Nicole took a seat next to Remi and tried to make eye contact with her friend and soon-to-be new boss, but Remi didn’t even acknowledge her presence. Maybe it was too early in the morning, or perhaps it was that things were more formal in the meeting.
Nicole opened her notebook and held her pen at the ready.
Glen blinked at everyone. “There’s been a slight change to this morning’s agenda,” he said. “As you may have noticed, we’ve got an addition to our weekly creative team meeting.” He smiled tightly and blinked three times, rapidly, as if using Morse code. “Miss Nicole Masters,” he said, gesturing grandly toward her, “who, I might add, has moved more quickly from intern to permanent placement than anyone in the history of Jameson International.”
Nicole felt her cheeks burn hot as everyone turned to look at her. To say the looks were less than friendly would have been an understatement. Remi didn’t even move a muscle, her eyes remained still and focused on Glen.
“Con
gratulations, Nicole,” Edward said softly. “Nicole will be the new assistant to Remi Danvers, and we welcome her to the team.”
It sure doesn’t feel like a welcome, Nicole thought. “Thanks so much,” she mumbled.
“Moving on,” Edward continued, and his voice seemed to fade into the distance, replaced by a high pitched buzzing in Nicole’s ears. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but she couldn’t.
Her heart pounding, her ears ringing, Nicole was suddenly dizzy.
She was having trouble catching her breath, and her heart was going so fast. She tried to sit up, adjust herself in the chair, anything to break this awful sensation that she was fainting or dying. Her hands were trembling. “Ah—excuse me,” she said, her lips numb as she spoke too loudly. “I need to run to the bathroom.” Standing and moving as fast as she could, Nicole hurried out of the meeting.
Once she was in the hallway, she was immediately less frightened. Her heart was still racing but she was less convinced she was dying.
Nicole walked to the bathroom and went into the stall, sat with her head between her legs for about a minute. She’d read somewhere that sitting in that position could help you get over a panic attack, and she was pretty certain that’s what this was.
Now she was even more embarrassed. How was she going to walk back into that meeting with everyone staring at her, hating her, thinking that she was totally unqualified for this new position?
Besides, she was unqualified. Red had forced her to take something she didn’t deserve, simply because he was embarrassed at her being a mere intern at the company he ran. Of course, she needed the money too—she couldn’t stay in the city on nothing, and Nicole wasn’t about to start taking an allowance from her fiancé.
A few moments later, the door to the ladies room opened and two female voices floated in. “…Can you believe it? With her? HER?”
“It’s beyond the pale.”
“Speaking of pale…have you gotten a look at that girl’s skin? Casper’s got nothing on her.”
Nicole put her face in her hands and huddled in the stall, knowing that somehow, for some unfathomable reason, these two women were talking about her.
They went to the sink and the water started to run. “I swear, I’ve given Red Jameson the look since the day I started here—“
“What look?”
“The come fuck me look. It works like a charm, usually. But with him? No dice. I come in dressed sexy, I give him the come fuck me look, he acts like I literally don’t exist.”
“You’re so bad.”
“Apparently I’m not his kind of bad. Apparently he likes Miss Vanilla with her fake smile and her fake goody-two-shoes act. I’ve got her pegged.”
“Maybe he’s not as smart as everyone gives him credit for.”
The water stopped running and Nicole could hear them fussing with their makeup, teasing their hair, wiping their hands on towels. “I can’t believe The Rag actually got pictures of it.”
“If The Rag ever does a story on me, I’m going to move to Gwam for a few years. Peace Corps time.”
“Point is, they went to a crappy little barbeque out in the sticks, Darlene. Red Jameson is losing all sex appeal for me after that stunt.”
“Shhhh…Don’t say it so loud.”
“Let’s go, I need to get back to my desk. I’m expecting a call from Granger anyway.”
“Oh boy.” Giggles.
The voices floated out as the door opened and shut again.
Nicole sat in the stall for another few minutes trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t imagine how they knew the things they knew. And those awful things those women had said about her—she didn’t even know them.
What was that magazine they’d referenced—The Rag?
She needed to find out how everyone seemed to know about her and Red and even the party at her parents’ house. As she left the bathroom, she realized that finding out about whoever told her personal business to the world would have to wait. Nicole had to go back to the conference room for the team meeting.
Feeling like a prisoner walking to the gas chamber, Nicole made her way back to the conference room. She put on the most convincing smile she could—
“Her fake smile and her fake goody-two-shoes act”
--and walked into the meeting. “Sorry about that,” she said, as everyone’s eyes followed her to her seat.
Everyone, that is, but Remi, who continued to make zero eye contact with her.
“It’s fine,” Glen said with a small frown and a couple of irritated blinks. “Anyway, we were talking about product branding…”
***
When the meeting ended, everyone headed for the door and Nicole tried to get Remi’s attention. “Hey, do you have a sec?” she asked.
Glen and Edward were deep in conversation as they left, and soon it was only Nicole and Remi left in the room. “I’m really pinched, I have another meeting to get to…” Remi said.
“You seem upset with me,” Nicole said.
“Why would I be upset?” Remi still wouldn’t even glance at her.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I was promoted?”
This caused the older woman to grimace and make a laughing sound. “Is that what you call it?”
“I don’t know. What would you call it?”
Remi shrugged. “Payment for services rendered.”
Nicole tried to control her voice, but it was shaking and the tears were close to the surface. “I asked to stay with this team because I love working with you. Red was going to move me to Public Relations.”
Remi folded her arms and made another face. “You should have taken the PR job. I don’t see why you should stay with the creative team.”
“I thought you liked the work I was doing.”
“I did, when you were an intern. There’s certain ways things have always been done around here. I paid my dues in this business. You don’t just get to cut the line because the boss likes what you do between the sheets.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
Nicole caught her breath. She realized that maybe Remi’s anger and scorn were justified. She had cut the line, she was getting preferential treatment from Red Jameson and it was wrong.
“I guess maybe you have a point,” Nicole told her. A single tear escaped and dripped down her cheek. “I really enjoy working with you, though.”
As she turned and left, she thought she saw a pained expression briefly cross Remi’s face, but Nicole didn’t stick around.
She went back to her desk, opened up her Internet browser, and googled The Rag. It brought her to a celebrity tabloid website with literally dozens of stories all over the page, most of them with horrible, demeaning headlines.
Kim Kardashian’s Lip Injection Nightmare Continues!
When Will Miley Cyrus Fall off the Wagon Again?
James Spader’s Weight Gain…Beach Pics Click Here
And then the worst one, the one she’d been hoping against hope was not on the site:
Red “The Mogul” Jameson Goes Slumming!
And when she clicked the link (against her better judgment), it took her to a page with the full story, including pictures of her and Red together. A picture of Red picking her up at her apartment, stopping for gas, and even pictures of the party itself at her parents’ house.
She read every word with mounting horror.
We at The Rag were pleasantly surprised yesterday, when a lovely tipster alerted us that Red Jameson was back in action with a new lady on his arm. We’ve always admired his beautiful black curls and his even more beautiful six-pack abs.
So when we heard that he was now seeing a “special someone,” The Rag had to have a look for ourselves at just who this wildcat was! After all, Red’s been spotted canoodling with the likes of Jenna Jameson, Charlize Theron, Kate Hudson, and many more. We know the aloof adman loves his ladies and we were certain this new girl would be a sultry sex kitten.
Okay, fine. Maybe we at The Rag are just getting cynical in our middle age, but it was a little disappointing to see Red driving out to the wilds of upstate New York to get his BBQ on with a bunch of local yokels. If we want to see fat guys in Yankees caps grilling hotdogs and drinking Budweiser, we just go home for the holidays.
We want our celebs to be exciting! So Red, could you at least make a stop at Jay-Z’s crib next time? Or better yet, call Katy Perry up—we hear she’s a fun date on a Friday night!!
When Nicole finished the piece, she felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach repeatedly. She was sick—sick from shock. They’d made a mockery of her relationship as well as her family. And how on earth had they even known about the party in the first place? For god’s sake, Nicole had only told her parents.
She didn’t know how the tabloids had found out, and she supposed it didn’t really matter. The bottom line was that this was going too far. Her family couldn’t be made to be a laughingstock because of Nicole’s relationship.
Furious, Nicole hurried to the private elevator and was taken up to the top floor. She stomped to Red’s door and knocked loudly. “It’s Nicole,” she said.
“Come in.”
When she opened the door, he was alone at his desk, and he greeted her with a wide smile. “This is unexpected.” And then he saw her face and the smile died on his lips. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know where to start, actually.” Her fists were clenched and she was sweating, clammy, and shivering. “I’m pretty upset right now.”
“I can see that.” He rose from his chair and came toward her.
“No. Stay there. I can’t be close to you right now.”
She saw the look of hurt cross his features momentarily. “Fine. What seems to be the problem?”
“The tabloids know about us.”
He shrugged and walked towards the bar. “I guess it was only a matter of time before they caught on. I’m surprised they found out so quickly, but, it’s what they do. Their specialty, I suppose.”