Page 42 of I Did Something Bad
“Are you fucking?”
A mortified scoff escapes me. “No, Clarissa, we’re not.”
“Then why the hell—” She pauses, as though she’s also trying to temper her reaction. “Did a hundred cameras catch Tyler literally lying on top of you on the floor?”
“Clarissa, hetripped.” My tone is right on the edge of snappy, but the more I think about this, the more ridiculous this line of questioning is. “Has nobody seen a person trip before?”
This time, she’s the one to scoff. “Nobody’s seen Tyler Tun tripon topof a woman before, I can tell you that.”
“Clarissa, come on, those tabloids are chasing clicks.” Remembering that she is technically my boss here and has the ability to kick me off the job faster than I can say “Action,” I force myself to take a deep breath and hold it for three seconds before I speak again. “I know it doesn’t look good. But what happened was he tripped and I tried to catch him and then we both fell over. That’s literally it. I’m not dating Tyler. I don’twantto date Tyler.” To my left, I catch Tyler give another shoulder roll, but I can’t focus on him right now. “Clarissa,” I say. “You gave me thisjob because of my professionalism and because I am good at what I do. Why on earth would I jeopardize the biggest assignment of my career?”
IthinkI can hear a rhythmic tapping from her end, as though she’s clacking her nails against a laptop or tabletop as she considers my answer. “Khin—” She doesn’t say my name so much as she sighs it. “I have a board to answer to. We can’t be giving our biggest cover story to a journalist who might have a… personal bias. HR alone will be a nightmare, and I don’t even want to think of how much overtime PR is going to have to put in. And on a personal level,Iwill not be accused of being unprofessional and handing this story to you simply because you are Tyler Tun’s girl—”
I can see it slipping through my fingers like oil-coated grains of sand: this assignment,Vogue Singapore,my fresh start in a new city, my new post-divorce plan. “Clarissa, this is sexist bullshit.”
“Oh?” she asks, staggered into silence.
“People already assume that every time a woman interviews a male subject, we’re secretly hoping that they’ll ask us out. Screw the board! Why dowehave to pay because a group of old men can’t stop hyper-sexualizing every single movement that a young woman makes? Since when did ‘tripping in the middle of a restaurant’ become a valid reason to fire someone?” Did I just tell her to screw the board ofVogue? I push myself back into the leather seat, wishing I could melt into it and out of existence.
“Tell her we’ll release a statement.”
I fling open my eyes and turn toward Tyler. His stern frown is aimed not at me, but at my phone. “What?” I whisper, covering the mic with one hand.
“Tell her we’ll release a statement,” he repeats. “If the board fires you afterthat—”
“Khin—” Clarissa’s voice takes on an even firmer texture. “Is hethere with you right now? Has he been listening to our conversation this whole time?”
Widening my eyes, I make a shushing motion with one finger at Tyler, and then to really drive the point home, also make a zipping motion across my lips. “No,” I lie. The absolutelastthing I need right now is a statement from Tyler, because it would simply be more proof to Clarissa that I’m getting some sort of special treatment because I’m his girlfriend. “We’re on the way to the set, but he’s talking on his phone. He’s… talking tohispublicist about all of this. He’s telling her what I’m telling you, that it was an unfortunate series of accidents. But that’s all it was. An accident.”
This time, the sound of her nails rapping is undeniable. “Fine,” she says at last, but the tension on the line hasn’t decreased a millimeter. “But Khin, don’t let this happen again.”
I nod frantically even though I know she can’t see it. “It won’t,” I confirm. “I’m grateful for this job, Clarissa, you know that.”
“Good.” For some reason, I can see her giving me a curt nod. “That’s also good to know because you’re working next Sunday.”
“Of course!” I say. At this point, she could’ve said,Make me the sole benefactor of your will,and I would’ve started texting my lawyer immediately.
“It’s for the photo shoot. Sunday was the only day Tyler was available. We’ve rented a studio. I think it’ll help you to start framing the story if you see what direction we’re taking the photos.”
“Absolutely,” I say.
“I’ll email you the details. We’ll speak soon,” she says, and hangs up as briskly as she started the conversation.
“Ready?” Tyler asks. “Or do you need a moment?”
“Huh?” I respond. My whole body is jittering, and I feel like I’ve lost my spot in the space-time continuum.
I look out when he nods toward the window. We’re at the lot already, although how long we’ve been parked here I have no clue.
“Icanget my team to release a statement,” he says quietly. I turn back to him to make sure I heard correctly, and find him looking at me with complete seriousness.
“No, that’s okay, let’s just let this die out,” I hear myself saying politely.
Internally, though, my veins are pulsating. How can he be this ignorant? I was seconds away from losing this job and very possibly having my entire professional reputation tarnished as the girl who slept her way to getting this assignment—all because he wanted me to come to that stupid brunch to show me that he is the perfect son and brother. And that is, of course, on top of the fact that my coming to brunch also allowed him to keep tabs on me even outside of work.
“We should get going,” I grumble, and, ignoring the way his smile fades, open the door.
“Tyler!” Yasmin’s voice greets us before I’ve even come around to the other side of the car. My features freeze and tighten into something painful once she is in my line of sight, and I see who’s behind her. “You remember Detectives Zeyar and Htet, right?”
