Page 10 of Lucky Star

But I wasn’t angry only for myself. Charlie was amazing. What’s more, James was my friend, and I was upset on his behalf, too. Because of Cameron’s sudden fame, James’s two-year relationship with Charlie was casually dismissed.

I felt terrible for all of us.

When a few minutes later, a friend who had once met James and Charlie texted to ask when she and Cameron had gotten together, I considered going full-on Hulk Smash.

While I might have been in the midst of a personal meltdown, professionally, I recognized the implications of the gossip weren’t ideal either. Seeing those I knew to be sane, level-headed people believe the rumors was startling, not the least of which was because Broderick had put me in charge of wrangling PR. I was on a runaway train that was on a collision course with failure when I had no business driving. This could land me in the unemployment line if things didn’t start looking up.

At nine-thirty, I sent James and Charlie a quick note telling them I would make sure the situation was taken care of. I had no idea how I was supposed to make good on that promise, but I refused to let my friends end up as fodder for the gossip machines.

Mostly though, I didn’t want Cameron linked with someone who wasn’t me. Jealousy was such an ugly emotion, but I was firmly in the grip of my worst case ever.

By ten o’clock, I was near to breaking.

I texted Broderick.

Sarah: You have to pull in the PR team.

When fifteen minutes had elapsed, and I hadn't received a response, I texted again.

Sarah: I’m serious. It’s out of control. I am not equipped to handle this. Doesn’t the studio have someone who can do it?

By the time eleven rolled around, I was dying of hunger and in desperate need of a stiff drink. As I walked back to my desk, having raided Broderick’s supply of scotch, he finally responded … and it was not at all helpful.

Broderick: I trust you, not them. You care about this more than they do.

“Fucking Broderick.” I slammed the glass onto my desk and watched as the liquid sloshed over the edge. I didn’t bother cleaning it up.

Yes, I cared more than your average PR person, but Broderick was taking advantage of how much I was invested in one particular aspect of this whole operation. No amount of caring in the world though would erase the fact that I didn’t know shit about handling PR for a major movie release. Hell, I didn’t know enough to manage it for a minor release.

The studio had a whole team of people waiting for Broderick to pull the trigger. Why it was taking them so long to get their asses on this disaster was beyond me.

Ten minutes later, Broderick followed up with another text.

Broderick: I’ve been informed someone’s coming on Monday. They’re going to want to talk to you. Tell them everything you did was at my insistence. They’ll probably yell at you and stomp around a bit, but you did wonderfully. Just ignore them. I do.

Shit. Not only had he circumvented the established process, but he’d also unwittingly made me his co-conspirator. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, he’d brought the scrutiny of the studio’s PR department down on me, and that was not a position I wanted to be in. The woman in charge of publicity was an egotistical maniac who only felt good about herself when she made others feel bad. I’d been spared her ire thus far, but now I would be firmly on her radar.

Sarah: You better make sure they don’t yell at me.

Or what? Or else I’d … do nothing, that was what.

Broderick: Of course. I take full responsibility. They won’t dare yell at me.

Somehow, I wasn’t assured.

After exchanging a few more messages where he promised to have my back, I felt better. I was still nervous about what would happen come Monday, but he’d promised not to let me take the fall for what the studio was sure to say was a major PR catastrophe.

Not my problem anymore, I thought, shutting down my computer.

Completely drained and exhausted from my harrowing day, I exited the building at ten minutes after midnight.

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