Page 29 of The Passion

Rem is right. I need to find a way to fix this, and the only way our team can do that is with my help.

Man up and do what you do best, put on that fake public image you have created so well over the years and deflect the publicity away from Felisha as much as you can.

Marching into the boardroom that is fast becoming the war room, I hear Forrest say to Rem, “What the hell happened to him in the car? His stare looks like it could peel paint off the wall. The sad puppy is gone, and some raging bear just walked in here.”

Ignoring him, I walk to my normal seat next to Nic, which is one off the head of the table.

“One word: Felisha,” Rem mumbles his reply to Forrest quietly behind me so none of the other staff that are already in here working could hear.

“Roger that. Moving on.” Forrest just pats me on the back and takes his seat on the other side of the table, and Rem continues down the room, talking to his men and Rohan, our head of the PR team.

I slam my hand down on the desk to stop all the chatter. “Don’t talk like I’m not in the room. Start talking and tell me where we are at. It’s my mess, and I want to fix it!”

Nic gives me a nod as he looks around the room, then takes his seat at the table. “You heard the man, start talking.”

And that was the start of what feels like the longest night of my life.

Followed by the morning of no sleep, trying to get my head around a press conference I have to show up to tomorrow and visits from my friends who care, but I just need to be on my own.

The fight I had last night has left my body, and instead, all that’s left is a blanket of shame and embarrassment.

I’m a strong man, but today, I just can’t seem to find that strength.

Staring at my phone is not healthy, but all I see is the last text message from Felisha, and every time I read it, the pain gets a little bit sharper.

Lying on the couch and looking out the windows, the light outside is starting to dim at the end of the afternoon and exhaustion finally wins. My eyelids start to fall.

I need to sleep and hope like hell tomorrow is a better day.

Because today couldn’t feel any worse.

Something doesn’t feel right as I try to wake from the groggy feeling. The room is dark as I slide my eyes open, and I’m not sure what woke me, but I could easily go back to sleep. Then I feel it again and realize it’s my phone vibrating in my hand, and I’ve put it on do-not-disturb from everyone except my family and friends, but when I sit up and stare down at the name, it’s not who I was expecting, and my heart starts racing.

“Felisha,” I say, my voice gravelly as I almost yell down the phone at the relief of her calling me.

“Flynn, it’s Harper.” And although I recognize the voice, it’s not strong and confident like it usually is.

Standing, I’m already on my way into my bedroom to get dressed in proper clothes instead of the trackpants and shirt that I threw on when I came home after the press conference.

“Is she okay, what’s happened, where is she?” I knew I should have ignored her messages and gone to her anyway.

“I can’t console her. She won’t stop crying, and I’ve never seen her like this before… ever.”

Shit, it’s all too much.

“Can I get into your building without being detected?” I ask, pushing the shoes onto my feet.

“No! Don’t come here, please, you can’t come here. If her father finds out, that will be a disaster.” Harper is panicking, and I see red.

“What. Did. He. Do.” Looking at myself in the mirror, I feel like I could break down a wall with the pent-up tension. All the tired muscles in my body are long gone, and the adrenaline is pumping fiercely through me now.

“I can’t say, but I don’t know what to do.” It’s then I hear faintly in the background the sobbing as Harper must be getting closer to Felisha again.

My mind is racing as I try to think.

“This is what you will do. I want you dressed in some of her clothes, put on her sunglasses and a hooded jacket. Have one of your security team drive you out of the carpark in her car with you in the front seat. Make sure none of your hair is showing so they think you are Felisha. Do the whole performance of trying to hide from all the flashes of the photographers that are camped out the front of the building.”

“I can do that.” She is quick to reply, knowing there is more to come.

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