Page 70 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

Ethan was busy opening up his laptop, then pulling up a chair next to his desk, indicating that we should all gather around. I couldn't figure out what was happening. Were they actually including me in some kind of conference?

It seemed a little late for a work meeting, and there was an excitement in the air that was definitely a bit much for any kind of meeting. David could hardly contain himself.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"You'll see," was all Ethan would say.

I glanced at David, hoping he'd fill me in but all he did was smile at me, his eyes lit up brighter than the neon signs of Times Square.

"Okay. Be cryptic. That's okay," I said with a laugh.

My smile faded as a chillingly familiar voice came out of Ethan's laptop speakers. Chase. Oh, God.

Ethan's hand landed on my thigh. "Trust me," he said.

"...and now I'll show you some of the features of our new program," Chase said.

"Is this a video or something?" I whispered.

"This is live," David said. "Chase is doing a presentation for potential investors in Japan, and we're listening in."

I remembered how Chase had been trying to land a meeting with some company there for a long time, a major dream and goal of his. To be honest, I'd mostly tuned him out when he'd spoken of particulars about his company, not really interested in the nitty gritty of social media engagement. But this was something that had stuck with me for once.

He went on and on it seemed like forever about stuff I didn't understand or care to understand, the graphics from his presentation taking up the entire screen, boring and even more boring, pie charts, bar graphs, diagrams and more diagrams.

The tone changed all the sudden with a long drawn-out silence. Chase's confident, cocky voice morphed into a panicked humming and clearing of his throat, muttering and mumbling something that sounded like the words, "It's stuck," over and over.

Narrowing my eyes at Ethan's laptop, I studied the stuck slide, trying to make sense of it. At first glance, it seemed like all the others, but if that were the case, why would Chase be so freaked out?

I read the words above the graph, letting them sink in: Empire Buzz's Catalog of Catastrophes.

Oh, my God.

The chart below it detailed the many ways Chase and his company had failed, the bars on the graph plummeting like a roller coaster, each one representing some misstep, a broken promise, or a breach of trust.

The details were all up there—decreased user engagement, data breaches, lost revenue, failed product launches and marketing campaigns, and worst of all, dwindling investor confidence. That had to be the nail in the coffin.

While my jaw dropped, Chase's panic increased, a frantic clicking noise as he tried to change the damning image amongst the backdrop of the astonished potential investors' whispering.

I turned to Ethan. "Did you... did you...?"

Smirk firmly in place, he shrugged. "They need to know what they're dealing with."

It was mean as hell, and I almost felt sorry for Chase. Almost. But the papers burning a hole in my bag squashed that feeling. And besides, Ethan had a point. He was doing the investors a favor, saving them from the epic mistake of partnering with an asshole like Chase.

"But how did you...?"

They both gave me the same look, almost a duh, don't you remember what we do?

"Right. Right." I nodded. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Ethan chuckled quietly as Chase continued with his struggle, finally pulling the plug on his visual presentation and stammering out some excuse about how he'd been hacked, how it'd been a joke from his competitors and there was no truth to it.

But the damage was done. If the investors were smart, which they most likely were if they were this successful, they'd do someserious digging and find out all the crap Chase was trying to hide.

With a satisfied sigh, Ethan closed his laptop. "Well played, David. Great work."

David practically blushed with pride as I watched the scenario play out, the easy praise given by Ethan, the satisfaction of a job executed perfectly.

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