“I want you to leak a few of these pictures onto your clients’ accounts tomorrow.” He passed over his phone, and I swiped through images of clients of Starr media in very compromising positions. Positions I’d need at least ten years of yoga and a bottle of wine to even attempt.
My cheeks heated, and a wave of nausea washed over me. “This would be social suicide for these people.”
He grinned. “Yes.”
My lips curled in disgust. A father trying to ruin his only son’s career? Sick. “That would go against everything Brogan stands for. This company means everything to him. What makes you think I’d do that to him?”
He sneered. “Because I have something you want.”
I half expected him to pull out a horrible Italian accent and tell me “I have an offer you can’t refuse.”
“And what would that be?” What could possibly be worth ruining someone’s career, including my own? Nothing.
“I heard your mom is sick.”
I sat there, unable to move. This man had serious connections if he’d found out my mom’s medical history and who I was just by having someone follow me.
“I will pay for all of her medical bills.”
I glared up at him, working to keep my mouth firmly shut. The one thing I desperately needed, and he was dishing it up on a silver platter. Mom wouldn’t even have to worry about paying off the bills. What would it be like to actually be able to buy things I wanted? Splurges on a new wardrobe, accessories, eating out. Things I ached to do. All for the small price of killing Brogan’s dream.
I folded my hands in my lap and stared at a tree in the distance, unable to look this man in the eyes. “Hell no.”
“I’ll let you reconsider that.” He pulled an envelope from inside his suit jacket and handed it to me, true mafia style. “A position with your name on it is ready at my firm, if you so choose.”
I tentatively opened the envelope, and my eyes about popped out of their sockets when I caught a glimpse of the amount on the check. There were more zeroes than I ever could expect to have in my bank account before I reached retirement age.
I bit back a growl and pushed the envelope aside, sick I’d even contemplated this for a second. Even if the money would mean everything to me and Mom, I could never do this to Brogan. I—cared for him. No, I more than cared for him.
Caring for him didn’t explain the spine-tingling sensation that came with his every touch. It didn’t explain the trust I put into him with every kiss. And it sure as heck didn’t even begin to describe how I fell harder with every soft look from those gorgeous brown eyes.
I loved him. Completely.
Jesus. I just had an epiphany that I loved the guy after I’d just been offered millions of dollars to destroy him.
Before I could make myself sick over this, my fingers found the center of the check and swiftly ripped it in half. “As I said before—hell no.” I stood and walked away before my words came back to me and I really dug into this guy. Not worth it—he was slime, just as Brogan had said.
Just as I neared the edge of the park, I thought I saw Bruce being walked by someone, but they turned a corner before I got a good glimpse. Really, I was feeling paranoid from the whole situation. I half expected someone to come out wielding a machine gun and threatening to send me to sleep with the fishes. Maybe Brogan was right—Netflix was rotting my brain.
At home, I sunk into the couch and turned on the TV. Zoey had left a note on the counter saying she was out with a coworker and she’d be home late.
I frowned, thinking of all that money I just gave up. But what good would it do if I felt guilty for the rest of my life? It wouldn’t be worth it. Nothing was worth hurting Brogan.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lainey Taylor Rule of Life #57
Have Clorox wipes handy for when the shit hits the fan.
I should have known the second I stepped into the building that something was wrong. Jackson was at his desk, actual beads of sweat dripping down his face.
Coworkers caught my eye on their way to their cubicles and grimaced. Each one shook their head, their expressions pained.
I’d had this reoccurring dream when I was younger that I’d come to school and the entire student body would suddenly hate me, whispering to friends right in front of me, calling me names, keying my car. Reality was so much worse.
“What the hell did you do, Lainey?” Jackson shrieked.
“What?”
Before he could elaborate, Brogan’s voice boomed over the intercom on my desk. “Lainey, get in here now.”
My heart lodged in my throat.
Jackson shook his head in disgust. “Might as well start packing up your shit.”
“What?” Seriously, this had to be a nightmare, and I was going to wake up in a cold sweat any minute.
“Really? You’re going to play dumb? Even I didn’t think you were that stupid.”
What the hell was he talking about? And what had I done since I left the office last night that could possibly elicit such a reaction from all my coworkers?
Everything was happening at whirlwind pace. Without realizing it, my legs had propelled me into Brogan’s office, and I stopped in my tracks as soon as he turned around.
He looked at me as if I were—nothing. Like I was less than nothing. The corners of his lips curled into a sneer—what I’d assumed I looked liked when I met with his father last night.
He turned his computer monitor around to face me, and I gasped as one of the pictures his father had shown me yesterday was plastered across the screen. To make matters worse, they were posted from the client’s account—my client’s account. “Did you do this?” His soft tone had an edge that could pierce through steel.
“No,” I matched his whisper, a full body shiver striking through my body. I couldn’t do it, no matter how much I could gain. “I’d never do this to you.”
He let out a heavy sigh, and momentarily I thought he would accept my word and we could discuss a game plan for damage control. “I stared at this all morning, wondering how someone I care about more than anything could do this to a company that means everything to me.”
“I wouldn’t.” My lip quivered, and my knees felt like they would give out at any second. I braced myself against the back of the chair and tried to meet his gaze, but he refused to even look in my direction. To see him so disappointed, so hurt…it was a million tiny paper cuts to my heart.
“I want to believe you. I really do.” His expression was a swirl of emotion, and I could tell he was at war with himself over this.
“But…” There was always a but. I’d seen it in every show where someone gets screwed over.
“It’s from your account. I don’t know what to trust anymore.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair and leveled a distant gaze at me. “I have to follow my code of conduct that I wrote, Lainey.” His lips mashed together, and he looked absolutely pained when he said, “It’s the rules. I have to fire you. Ever since I started breaking them, it’s been a distraction. Now this happened and…” He trailed off.
He didn’t believe me. He thought I could do something this monstrous, cause him this much pain.
A cold, dark mixture of emotion swirled inside me—a blend of fish hooks ripping open my organs, a pair of Italian loafers smashing the remains, and a dash of salt to really amplify the pain.
I didn’t know whether I wanted to add a few dents to his desk with my foot or ugly cry in my car with Bad Day blaring.
This man who I’d given my heart to was taking away the one thing that meant the most to me. His trust.
The spear of betrayal morphed into hot anger at how screwed up this whole situation was. He had to fire me? What the hell was that bull crap response?
Hell. No.
Screw him and the holier than thou shit he spouted. Screw the progress we’d made in the past few weeks, learning to open up to each other. Obviously it was all complete crap just to get in my pants. If he really trusted me,
my ass wouldn’t be on the chopping block. We’d be working to combat this as a team.
That was it. I’d never be able to compete with his company. His stupid rules would always win over feelings and relationships. I should have known. He’d been clear about it from the beginning, but did I listen? Of course not.
“Fuck your rules.” I threw my hands in the air. “How about you find the person who did this? The person who posted it on my account.”
Brogan’s brows furrowed at my outburst. “I don’t know who it is, but I can’t keep you employed here. This is my entire world. My company might not make it through this as is. You’ve been a liability from the start.” He didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eye. He’d completely shut down. Game over. Brogan was back to the closed off CEO I’d met months ago. The Brogan I loved wouldn’t do this.
“A liability,” I repeated. “Really? So forget the fact that the crap clients I was given when I started here now have more than a hundred thousand followers. Or that four of the ideas I came up with to increase productivity have shot your numbers and your client list through the roof. No. You’re right. I’m just a big fat distraction. I’m glad we have everything cleared up. I’ll make sure to get out before I jeopardize your company any further, Mr. Starr.”
“It’d be best if you were out by lunch,” he said, staring at the door.
The coldness of his words crushed my insides in a slow painful twist.
I bit the inside of my cheeks and really looked at him—and it finally dawned on me. He would never change, and I was deluding myself thinking I could ever have a fighting chance with him. Work would always come first, and his trust issues ran too deep.
“You know what, Brogan? This is good to know. I’m glad I found out early on just how fucked up you are. I hope you and your rules have a happy life together.” The loss of everything in that moment wrung my heart in my chest, and my lungs squeezed tightly, barely letting in any air.
I bent down to Bruce, who was laying on his doggy bed next to Brogan’s desk, and scratched behind his ears. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
Bruce whined and dragged his chubby little doggy paw across my arm, and I almost lost it. I straightened and wiped a stray tear from my cheek.
A box was already waiting on top of my desk when I walked out of Brogan’s office. Jackson’s face still held that look of disgust. “Figured you’d need it. Don’t let Betsey bite you on your way out.”
He walked into Brogan’s office and the frosted glass door whooshed shut with finality.
A moment later, Zelda came rushing through the hallway and threw her arms around my shoulders. “I heard you were fired.”
I nodded, numb. The mountain of pending debt came tumbling down on me faster than a lost game of Jenga.
Jobless. Rent-money-less. Brogan-less. This was all too much to process.
How was this even happening? Why was I losing my job for something I hadn’t done, and yet getting none of the benefits from the act that I’d supposedly executed.
“I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do, I’m here for you.” She squeezed my shoulder. I couldn’t even look her in the eye—first, because my eyes were clogged with tears, and second, because I didn’t want to see any other people disappointed with me.
Again I nodded, and continued piling my pictures and stash of food, toothbrush, and other toiletries into the box.
“I’ll miss you,” she said.
“Me, too.” My pulse hammered in my temples at the thought of this being the last time in Starr Media. I’d miss everything about this job—the people, the feeling I got every time I posted something that was well-received, the way Brogan made me feel both in and out of the office. I can’t believe I trusted him.
Sorrow quickly bubbled to anger as I debated how this happened to me. How did Brogan’s dad have the power to post from my account? How did he get past our security? If he did have that power to do these things, why bribe me? It just didn’t make sense. Too many questions with zero answers.
With my box stuffed past capacity, I was almost ready to leave the building. All I needed was to clean off my runny mascara, straighten my pencil skirt, and walk out with at least part of my dignity.
I sat in the bathroom stall to collect myself, my hands still shaking and my lip in a constant state of quivering. My teeth raked over my lips and I pressed my palms to my eyes while sitting on the toilet. Just as I was about to flush, the door to the restroom opened and Zelda’s familiar voice flooded in.
“—according to plan.”
I decided to stay perched in my spot, lifting my feet so she wouldn’t know I was in the stall.
“Hold on,” she told the person on the phone, and she was silent for a moment, most likely making sure the bathroom was empty.
“I can’t talk long. I need to get back to work, but he totally bought that it was Lainey.”
What the hell? Who was she talking to? Was it Brogan’s dad? Had he decided to go to her when I wouldn’t say yes?
My anger quickly turned to rage at the fact that the one person who I hung out with at the company was the one to screw me over. She was my friend. Well, obviously not. I continued listening, stewing in the stall, wondering if I should barge out there and scream at her, or keep listening to get the whole story. Inner Nancy Drew won out, and I stayed perched on the seat.
“When do I get the cash? It was difficult to make it look like I did it under her account, that should mean I get a bonus.”
I couldn’t hear who was on the other end of the call, but I was ninety percent certain it was Brandon. How could someone want to hurt his son so much that he’d resort to destroying his business and credibility? My dad may have earned a spot on the Worst Dad List, but he’d never do anything like this to me, no matter how badly he wanted me to go the lawyer route.
“I’m not greedy. It’s not every day I commit company espionage.”
She argued a little more and then gave a clipped, “Good-bye.”
As soon as she got off the phone, I opened the stall and our eyes met in the mirror’s reflection. Her eyes widened a fraction, but she kept the rest of her expression motionless.
If anyone in the company had the capability to hack into my account, it would be the tech guru. Why hadn’t she been the first person I thought of when this happened? Oh, yeah, because friends didn’t set each other up to take the fall for espionage—obviously rule number five in the friendship manual. “How could you?”
She gave a pitying look. “Money’s money, Lainey. I couldn’t pass that up.”
All I could do was stare. How could she be so cold to a boss that gave her a job, a damn good one at that. “You could. I did.”
“Then you’re stupid. Didn’t you say your mom was sick? Why not use that for her?”
I scoffed, disgusted. “Because I’m a decent human being. I’m not willing to screw people over because of money.” I shot her a look through the mirror. “And next time, you should really check to see who is in the bathroom before you talk about corporate espionage. Pretty sure there’s something in the rule book about that.” I gnashed my teeth together, keeping anything else I had to say safely pressed behind my lips. She didn’t deserve to be chewed out. She deserved handcuffs and a jail cell. Never in my life had I wanted to punch someone, but I so did.
I shook my head. Someone who’d be willing to throw someone under the bus obviously wouldn’t understand anything else I had to say. I walked past her in silence and left her in the bathroom alone.
This whole company was backward today. My boyfriend/boss/whatever thought I was a liar and a life-ruiner, and my only friend here screwed me over. The real world blew.
I strode over to my desk and took one last look around me. Good-bye to the stupid set of rules that I failed to follow. Good-bye to the first assistant who thought I was lazy and incompetent. Good-bye to the one person who shredded my heart into confetti-cut pieces.
I grabbed my box and headed for the
elevator.
Just as the doors opened, Brogan came rushing out of his office.
“Lainey, wait,” he said, out of breath as he sprinted toward me.
“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it. I’m done with you. Oh, and you might want to check Zelda’s computer and call log. I think you might find you’ve got it way wrong.”
I clutched the box’s cutout handles and lifted my head proudly as Betsey’s doors zoomed open. I walked into the elevator and pressed the first floor button for the very last time, then turned to face Brogan. I blinked away tears and managed to fix my features into something that remotely conveyed the proper amount of screw you. His face fell, and it took everything in me to stay put and not run to comfort him. Our eyes locked, and I took solace in knowing that nothing could quite possibly hurt worse than this.
“Good-bye, Mr. Starr.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lainey Taylor Rule of Life #13
No one’s there for you like your mom.
By the time I got back to the apartment, Zoey was already there with a carton of rocky road ice cream and store-bought brownies sitting ready on the counter.
She ran to me and wrapped me in a hug. “What the hell happened?”
“I was framed.” I burrowed my head into her shoulder, wishing I could escape from this whole day. Seriously, I thought only people in lockup said this crap. I grabbed the bowl of ice cream and flopped down on the couch. “By Zelda.”
“What? Why would she do that?”
“Money.” I stabbed my spoon into a chunk of chocolate. “Brogan’s dad got to her, and she set me up to take the fall. She even used my login. My clients. The evidence was stacked against me.”
“He really didn’t believe you?”
I shook my head and swallowed past the thickness in my throat. “No. Not initially.” That was what hurt the most. Not being fired and having zero income now. It was that Brogan and I had finally gotten to a place where we trusted each other. I could see myself with him. A future. My bright future now felt like sand sifting through my fingers—gone, and impossible to pick up the pieces.
The Rule Book (Rule Breakers #1) Page 22