The Choice

by Alice Ward

  Throwing the paper down on the passenger seat, I hit the gas, pushing the engine to bleed out my anger on the car instead of my innocent employees waiting for me at the office.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  My company’s entire reputation rested on our commitment to fair trade and exemplary business practices with developing nations that profited both our economies.

  Crave.com had been my childhood dream. I wanted to create a company that didn’t inflate prices or pad the pockets of only one side of the retail exchange. I wanted fair prices for all, prosperity for all.

  We saved people money, and made other people money. My employees also enjoyed good salaries. But we didn’t traffic in people. Just the opposite, we were advocates against such practices.

  Now, with this popping up, if someone found out I’d been to Jewel it would finish off my reputation. Embarrass my family. Affect how Adara was welcomed back into the world when she went.

  Not to mention that my entire business model was built on the company’s reputation. A story like this, especially if it demonized me, would absolutely ruin us.

  The saddest part of all this was, despite the rumors that I was an absolute asshole, I really cared about what we did at Crave. We elevated the quality of life for so many people who’d otherwise be living in poverty. For people living in those small villages, we provided education, healthcare, housing, and infrastructure.

  I myself made sure these changes were made in the places we worked with. I was stunned and unable to believe that someone on my team had taken advantage of this incredible resource. Our moto was “Crave what you believe in.” Our beliefs and our reputation were our brand.

  When I got into work, the looks on everyone’s faces made me think that I’d already died and come back as a zombie. There was such a mix of shock and horror as I passed through. But I couldn’t let it daunt me.

  “Adam,” I barked. “No calls.” Being pleasant wasn’t on my priority list. “And book me a trip to Brazil, ASAP.” I walked into my office and slammed the door.

  At my desk, I looked over the article and what was popping up online. I would need to call in someone who could get to the source of this and turn it around. A detective slash publicist.

  I made a call to the company attorney, and he was already on it. So far, he hadn’t been able to find record of a lawsuit anywhere. Something wasn’t kosher.

  I could hear Adam outside my door fielding calls from reporters, saying I wasn’t offering any statements at the moment. He was a good assistant. I didn’t expect anyone to bang down my door with him out there, which was great. When this was all over, I needed to reward him.

  My door was slung open, and I’d jumped to my feet before I focused on Peter standing there, looking like a ragged Bear Grylls.

  I groaned, mourning the peace and quiet that swiftly died with my brother-in-law’s presence.

  “Broooo!”

  My eyes rolled back in my head, and I flopped back down in my chair. I hadn’t the energy for him right now.

  “What the fuck, dude? USA Today is smoking crack. When did you become a slave owner?”

  It wasn’t a real question, so I didn’t bother to answer.

  “No worries, Roman, I’ll help you get to the bottom of this nonsense. A competitor is probably out to get you. People will believe anything, don’t sweat it.”

  “That’s okay, Pete. I’ve got it handled.”

  Pete strutted into the room, running his fingers through his now even shaggier beard. “You shoulda come with us, let loose. We had such an amazing trip and you’d be high on fresh air and wouldn’t be trippin’ on any of this.”

  “I’m not… trippin’,” I spit out, “and if you are—”

  “No, no, haven’t tripped on anything other than wine for a long time. Hey, you want some good news?”

  On top of what I was dealing with at the moment, a Pete-good-news-fest was all I needed, but I bit down on my tongue and nodded because he was my brother-in-law and Lil would be pissed if I blew up on him. The last thing I needed was for her to start a campaign for anger management.

  “We met this guy on our vacay. He’s one of the creators of the Coachella Music Festival in the California desert, and he wants you to be one of their sponsors. They never have sponsors, cause they’re a ‘for the people’ kinda thing, but your company is so in line with their philosophy, he wants you.”

  I tapped one of the newspapers. “I’m sure he won’t touch me with a ten-foot pole now.” I wanted to close my eyes and let the world fall to pieces around me. I was tired of having to construct and manage everything.

  “Some douche set you up with that article. This’ll all blow over by then.”

  I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Tell him no. I don’t need any more public humiliation right now.”

  “Sorry, Romy, I already agreed for you. He was there when we heard the news. We have total faith you’ll find the asshole who’s making all the bad press. The festival isn’t until April. We assured him you were the real deal, and he’s gonna hold judgment, so he’s solid.”

  I rolled my eyes and leaned back farther in my chair. “You can’t just agree to a business transaction for me, Peter.”

  He was being supportive, and Coachella would be great publicity for us. However, the taste of defeat was still sour in my mouth.

  On any other day, this would’ve been great news. I usually didn’t let shit get to me, but this wasn’t just a rumor. Someone was at work here to ruin my company. No, not someone. It was Jack Marshall, the bastard. And if I could prove it, I was going to ruin him.

  Adam knocked on the door, which was still partially open.

  “What?” I answered, irritated.

  “Sorry, Mr. Wellington, the earliest flight I can get for you to Espírito Santo is tomorrow. They don’t have anything available before that.” His eyes were wide and fearful.

  I didn’t want to make any more enemies, so I nodded, adding a tight smile. The look of surprise on his face was priceless.

  “Great, book it,” I said, and ignoring Peter, went back to looking over the books for the coffee farm in the mountains near Espírito Santo, Brazil. I would get to the bottom of this, even if it killed me. I didn’t want to leave Adara right now, but maybe it would be for the best. It would give her time to get settled, rest, have some peace without me waving my dick at her every five seconds.

  “Adam, in response to reporters who call, tell them I’m looking into who is spreading lies about the ethics that we hold so dear to this company. Thanks.” I smiled again, and he backed into the doorframe before stumbling into the outer lobby.

  “You’re going to Brazil?” Pete’s eyes lit up.

  “To investigate. I don’t believe anyone in this company would commit the atrocities we’re accused of, but I won’t know for sure until I speak to the ones interviewed. But Adara’s at my house…”

  “The girl? You, no-second-date Romansky, has a woman staying at his house?” Peter’s eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open, making him look like a goofy cartoon character. “I’ll go to Brazil with you, dude. We’ll film the whole thing. And in the meantime, I may know someone who can get a line on Mr. Jack Marshall.”

  I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to take a trip with Pete, but maybe it was right. I needed to get this scandal under control. I couldn’t let its nastiness smear onto Adara. She’d been through enough.

  My cell rang. It was Thomas and I snapped it up. “Yes.”

  The detective exhaled a long breath. “Nothing on Jewel, but I wanted to share an interesting piece of news I’ve uncovered.”

  My balls tightened. “What’s that?”

  “I was putting our feelers and spoke to Adara’s manager, Neil Ferguson. Apparently, the manager, her record label, and about an army of people have been looking for her for months, and have kept it under the radar in the hopes they would find her unharmed.”

  “Seriously?”

  Tho
mas made an affirmative noise. “Seriously. Apparently, they’ve been looking for her because they have some big opportunity. They are wanting her to come back for some type of award, and they want to relaunch her career. But she’s been so well hidden away, even their damn PI couldn’t find her.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let her know.”

  “I’ll be going out to your estate to interview her tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow. The day I was leaving for my own personal crisis. She would have to go through the interview alone.

  As I disconnected the call, I stared at the phone.

  Adara was on the cusp of returning to stardom, and she didn’t even know it.

  She would soon.

  I called the contractor I used for all my renovations and ordered a sound studio to be built in the guest wing. I wanted it stocked with a fucking guitar and every damn thing a super rock ‘n’ roll star could ever possibly need.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Adara

  After I emptied my emotions out on the page, I’d wanted to play but didn’t have a guitar. So I put on my mask and another outfit of Roman’s sister’s and went downstairs, determined to do something to take control of my life.

  I hadn’t told Roman that I didn’t have access to my money from Jewel through a normal bank account. There was money in an account, but one that was only accessible inside Jewel so that no records could be traced.

  I needed my money, but I almost needed what little things I had more. Everything from my life before was in that one bag.

  Roman texted me that there would be a detective coming to interview me tomorrow and that he would give me the details later.

  I fixed a coffee and grabbed a couple of apples for Sissaleigh and went out to the barn. The smells there seemed to soothe my soul, and the company couldn’t tell me what to do.

  I fed the apples to Sissaleigh, who was actually as bossy as she could manage without words. The horse had a definite backbone, and I could probably take a few lessons from her.

  On my way back from the barn, Janis called. She was probably the only person from Jewel I had the stomach to talk to, so I answered.

  “Hey, Adara. How are you? I’ve been so worried. You just disappeared.” She sounded nervous, but maybe that was because she was worried.

  “I needed to get out of there.”

  “Well, everyone is looking for you. You have rehearsal in an hour, and Brandy’s been frantic.”

  My breath caught in my throat, and my heart rate spiked. Even hearing Brandy’s name made me feel sick to my stomach. I could never go back there. “I’m not coming to rehearsal today.”

  “Why?” Her voice held an accusing tone.

  “I’m no longer working at Jewel. Can you help me with something though? There’s a suitcase near the door in my apartment, it has all my important things in it. Can you grab it? I’ll tell you were the key is—”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t, Adara.” Her voice lowered. “Things have changed since you left, security is tighter. More cameras.”

  I couldn’t control my racing heart as my nerves sky rocketed. Something seemed off.

  “What do you mean? Are you okay? Is Brandy okay? You don’t sound right.” The Janis I knew would have tried to help me if it were possible.

  I hated this, hated these feelings, this worry. I felt so helpless, unable to do anything to stop all of the injustices at Jewel, to stop all the women from suffering there.

  With her next words, the toxicity of Jewel bled through the phone and tried to wrap around me, pull me in. “Brandy’s her usual self. She wants you to come back. She wanted me to tell you that if you can come back in time for your number tonight, they’ll negotiate you getting your money and possessions back.”

  Her words sounded rehearsed. Was there someone else listening?

  “No.” I swallowed hard, making my voice calm and steady. “Please tell her I won’t be coming back. But if anyone there wants out, I’ll try to help them get out.”

  I kept the tears out of my voice until I hung up.

  They’d used the one friend I had left against me. I felt bad for not going back, for leaving them, but I couldn’t stay. I was disappointed in Brandy, but wasn’t completely sure she wasn’t being coerced. And Janis had a kid to think about… they were all victims.

  But what if I could help them somehow? What if, when the investigation was through, I could help them find themselves again? If I could get even one Jewel out of there and back on her feet, it wouldn’t matter that all I had left in the world that was mine was a mask. A mask I wasn’t willing to wear any longer.

  That night, when Roman came home, I was deeply involved in making plans and jotting them in my new notebook. I’d waited for him for dinner and given Martha the evening off.

  “Adara?” He sounded tired. “What are you doing in here in the dark?”

  It had gotten dark in the kitchen, and I’d barely noticed. I’d been writing by the light shining in from the hall.

  “Jewel takes everything from anyone who goes there,” I said in a voice that sounded like ice. “They want to negotiate to return what’s mine. I’m going to help the detective stop them.”

  “Sounds like your day’s been as shitty as mine.” He was as stiff as his starched suit, standing there in the doorway with his impenetrable gaze. “There will be someone coming with the detective tomorrow, someone who may be able to help you with that.”

  I slapped my pen down on the table. “Roman, I don’t understand you. You sound so cold and cryptic, when just yesterday we were having the time of our lives splashing around in the hot tub. So much for wine and candles.” I gestured at the spread Martha fixed earlier. It was very romantic. If I’d had the energy to laugh I would’ve.

  He carried the box he held over to the kitchen counter then opened it and stared at the contents long enough to make me wonder if something else had happened besides what I saw on the news today.

  “Why was your day so bad?” I asked, feeling bad for having jumped down his throat.

  “So bad?” He chuckled sardonically, reaching his hands into the box, and pulling out a mound of Krave Koffee bags. “It was so bad because someone is trying to ruin me. The press has accused me of ‘raping the underprivileged masses’ for my own gain. Add a million views just in the first hour after the latest story hit and over one hundred thousand comments calling me a fraud, liar, and a greedy piece of shit, and you have my day in a nutshell.” His face showed no emotion.

  “I’m sorry, Roman. I hope none of this is because of me.”

  Of course it was because of me.

  “It’s not your fault.” He stared out the window, even though all you could see was the dark. “I’m flying out to Brazil tomorrow. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

  A hole punched through my gut. “What? Why?”

  “I have to make sure none of what they said is true.” He looked haggard as he rubbed his forehead with his hand. “For the company.”

  “For the company? What if it is true, Roman? What if the Brazil government is telling you one thing and doing another? What about those people? Are they just going to have to remain that way while there’s an ‘investigation?’”

  I knew I was being unfair, but I couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming from my mouth. What was happening with his scandal felt similar to what had happened at Jewel.

  And Roman had possessed a membership to Jewel. A sliver of ice ran up my spine.

  “What are you saying?” he asked, his expression glacial.

  “What I’m saying is that I can’t figure out who you are. One minute, you’re this funny, charming man, the next you’re cold as ice. One minute, you want to save the word. The next minute, you’re taking your clients to brothels.”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s me. Cold as ice. A bastard and a contradiction. I only care about money. Money is the reason I took my clients to Jewel. Isn’t it the reason for everything?” His eyes dragged down my body when he said i
t.

  I felt my chest go very hot and my chin come up. “Your money doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. And don’t insinuate that your money is the reason I’m here. I didn’t go to get clothes today like you ordered, because this isn’t Jewel and you can’t give me orders. I’m not a whore.”

  “I don’t buy sex, Adara.”

  I lifted my chin. “So you’ve said. You can’t buy me either. Why do you even care about what people say about you? It’s not like you’ll go down the tubes if your business tanks.” I waved my arms wide.

  Roman’s eyes met mine across the kitchen and went from dark and dead to so full of emotion I was frozen in my chair. He turned back to the box, gripped the cardboard, and ripped it in two, throwing the contents in a heap on the floor. “Because I care! I care about my company and the people who work for me. And I care about the people who may have been abused because of it. I won’t hide behind money the way people seem to think I do, the way you hide behind that damn scar you think rules your life now.”

  I gasped. “I’m not hiding, Roman! You’ve been treating me like I was going to break, like I was a piece of fragile china since you laid eyes on me. But I’m not going to break, I’m not! I don’t need you and your money to hold me together.”

  But he was right. I was hiding behind this scar, acting like I was going to break. Hiding behind what had been done to me that night, and every night at Jewel since I set foot in the godforsaken place.

  Roman buried his fingers in his hair and turned away from me. When he turned back, all the emotions I’d seen in his eyes were carefully hidden. “I’ll take you to Jewel tomorrow. We’ll get some officers to go with us, and we’ll get your things. But then I’ve got to go to Brazil.”

  Without giving me time to answer, he walked out of the kitchen without looking back.

  What was left of my heart cracked in two, falling into the black well that was my hope. I’d thought Roman and I were building something, but I’d been wrong. There was no place for me here, and if anyone ever connected me to him and to Jewel, it would make what he was dealing with ten times worse.