Page 56 of The Southern Submission

We did some snooping and found dirt on Ainsley from her time at NYU with copies of her last story that was quickly retracted from the Washington Square News, the NYUstudent newspaper, that painted her out to be quite the lethal opportunist. However, a letter from the editor that followed refuted the story. It alleged thatan unnamed bitter individualhad hacked into the NYU journalism department’s server to post the unflattering story about Ainsley. It hinted strongly at the person being a disgruntled former lover. Ainsley was quickly forced out of her master's program and sent fleeing to Atlanta shortly after all this went down in New York. We’ll go ahead and name him if that editor wouldn’t. We’re disgusted by that allegation and wish all the worst to Archer for his part in that situation.

Archer in Atlanta now makes us believe he’s not too pleased seeing his former flame moving on. The bad blood between the Donovans and the Olsens probably doesn’t help, making Archer look more desperate and pathetic. Archer, honey, bless your heart. It’s time to return to New York, where you belong, leaving our billionaires and their relationships alone. We’re pro-Olsen on this blog and won't tolerate New York interlopers stirring up trouble in our city. As always, hit Like and Subscribe for all the Haute gossip.

Thirty-one

Payton

My phone vibrates on the boardroom table, drawing my attention from the meeting with the city planners for the arena project. Heads all around the table look my way and I smile disarmingly as I make a carry-on motion. Fuck. This is not a meeting I want to be interrupted by an errant notification about a new Atlanta Haute List story or something else I’m keeping tabs on. Hayes sends me a venomous look, letting me know the faux pas has not gone unnoticed, no matter how quickly I silenced my phone and slid it off the table. I look down to put the offending device on silent, only to see Ainsley calling.

My heart lurches. She never calls me during the day. She’s made a habit of rarely reaching out at all. I hatehaving to send her to voicemail, but this meeting is incredibly important, and I have another hour until I can call her back. I return my attention to the meeting, tapping a finger against my tablet in agitation. This could be an email, but we have to smooth over every little wrinkle with the city to stay on their good side so we can force through our building plans faster than they’d typically approve construction plans. Everything hinges on keeping them happy.

My phone buzzes in my lap and I look down, seeing a text from Ainsley.

Princess: I’m sorry to call. I know you’re working. I just got off the phone with my apartment manager. A water main broke and our whole floor is flooded. I don’t know what to do. You’re the first person I thought to call.

Fuck. She’s coming to me for help. She’s vulnerable and telling me shewantsmewhen she needs help the most. And here I am, a fucking asshole, not picking up her call. I run a hand through my hair and look around at the city officials and my brothers in the boardroom. They’re more than capable of handling this meeting without me, no matter the importance of the deal.

Ainsley needs me. She knows I can take care of her when she needs me the most, and I’m not about to disappoint her when she finally gives in and realizes it. I stand and collect my things.

“Going somewhere, Pay?” Zander asks with dangerous calm from across the table.

“Sorry to run out. I have an emergency. I hope you understand.” I direct my brightest smile at the city planners. “You’re in good hands with our team. I apologize for leaving like this.”

“Payton.” Hayes's voice carries a note of warning, like he’s about to grab me by the collar and yank me back into a seat. “I’m sure whatever it is can wait.”

I turn a lethal gaze on Hayes, letting him know there’s no arguing with me right now. I’m leaving, even if I have to bulldoze my way through both of my brothers.

“My girlfriend needs me.” I look at the faces around the table with calm resoluteness. “Here at Olympus, we put our family and loved ones before business. I hope you understand,” I direct the last bit to our guests, who nod in confusion, looking between me and my brothers.

Hayes and Zander are brooding and unhappy but not about to stop me now that I’ve pulled out the family card. Both of them have established that their families come before work, and if I’m using that rationale with them, they know this is serious. I get a nod of acknowledgment from Hayes and a hand wave from Zander, who turns back to the table and moves on to the next topic of discussion as if my interruption hadn’t occurred.

I pull my phone out as soon as I leave the boardroom, texting Ainsley on my way to the elevator.

Me: Where are you? I’ll be there as soon as I can.

She texts back almost immediately as if she’s been holding her phone, waiting for my reply. It breaks my heart that she had to wait even this long.

Princess: I’m headed to the apartment to see if I can salvage any of my things. Della says it’s bad. There’s a foot of standing water and it’s coming in from the ceiling.Most of our stuff is ruined.

Me: I’ll meet you there. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll replace whatever you need and we’ll pick up any necessities before we go home tonight. I’ll take care of you, baby.

Princess: I hate this so much ?? I don’t want your help.

Me: I know, Princess. Good thing you’re mine to take care of.

When I pull up to Ainsley’s apartment, restoration vans are parked outside, and crews of workers move in and out of the apartments, creating piles of soaked drywall and collecting rolls of sodden carpet on the sidewalk. I scan the area, looking for Ainsley before I head up to her floor and find her wearing a pair of pink rain boots, standing in a foot of water that’s collected in the hallway outside of her apartment. She looks lost, holding a duffle bag at her side as she stares inside.

“Ainsley,” I call as I close in.

My feet slosh through the water, ruining my Prada leather Oxfords in the process. It’s worth it when she turns and hope lights up her despondent face. I open my arms and she buries her face into my chest as I wrap her in a tight hug that I hope can hold her together when everything feels like it’s falling apart.

“Thank you for coming,” she says, finally pulling away from my chest but not letting me go. It seems she needs a lifeline in this flood, and I’m good at treading water for us both. “I’msorry to pull you away from work in the middle of the day.”

“Shh,” I say, kissing her forehead and stopping her apologies. “You needed me, so I’m here. What can I do? Anything inside that I need to grab?”

She shakes her head and tears well in her eyes. “I got what I could. My personal documents and my laptop from my desk that stayed out of the water, some clothes that didn’t get wet, and my toiletries. Everything else is destroyed. It’s bad.” Her voice breaks. “Who knew an apartment could flood that quickly? It’s insane the damage water can do.”

Just then, Della, Ainsley’s roommate, sloshes out of the apartment wearing yellow rain boots, looking just as sullen as Ainsley.

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