Page 3 of One Taste
Low blow, Madison.She’s not holding back the punches this morning. I still don’t know what she's sobent out of shape over, but whatever it is, she means business because she pulled the dad card.
Three months ago, my father had a major heart attack. It was touch and go there for a minute when he had the bypass surgery. I thought my mother was going to giveherselfa heart attack during the longest seven hours of her life.
As soon as he was awake and we knew he would be okay, she demanded he retire. The only thing my father loves more than this firm is his wife and children. I’ve been holding down the fort since. This hasbeen the plan for when Dad retired for as long as I can remember. I would take the helm ofMidtown Advertising.The only difference is we thought Dad would be here for a couple more years. He’s barely sixty.
It makes Madison’s little tirade strange. She’sbeen a commanding, spoiled princess since birth, but it’s not as if I’m some idiot who has no idea what he is doing. I’m superb at what I do. Dad has always said I had an interesting way of conveying messages. My concepts have been the design behind many popular ads and slogans. Business is thriving, not being run into the ground.
“Madison.” I sigh, running my hand over my too long brown hair.I need to get a haircut.“Can you get to your point? You’re not making any sense. Business is fine. What’s the problem?”
She grabs the paper she droppedon my desk when she walked in here earlier and thumbs through the pages. “Your face cannot continue to be on the gossip pages. Being a drunk womanizer is not a ringing endorsement for anyone who wants to do business with you. People want a professional, and this picture is not professional.”
She gets to the page she’s searching for, and sure enough, my mug is taking up half the page along with the blonde I took to a hotela few nights ago. It’s not a flattering photo of either of us. She has mascara streaked down her face, and my eyes appearhalf open and crossed. Thank God the picture is black and white. Both of our faces were beet red at this point of the night. The club was hot as hell that night—in multiple ways.
“Who gets that drunk on a Tuesday?” Her voice is incredulous, and she jabs her long pink manicured nail into the picture of my face. “This makes it seemas if you’re irresponsible. That your priorities aren’t in order.”
Now, I stand, pushing my chair back from my desk, and staredown at my sister. “That’s bullshit. My priorities are ordered just fine.”
She shakes her head, and a stray piece of her brown hair falls from her bun. “But this makes it look otherwise. Week after week new photos of you are popping up in the gossip columns, not to mention the garbage they’re printing in the tabloids. Dad's becoming worried. He’s concerned our accounts may choose to find another company with a less infamous CEO. He cannot afford toworry about this so soon after his surgery.”
I concede with a huff as I sit back in my chair. The last thing I want is for my social life to affect my father. “Okay, I’ll tone it down. I can live low-key for a while—for Dad.”
Madison looks at me with sad eyes. “It’s too late for that, Sebastian. We needdamage control at this point. The papers have you pegged as a drunk, sometimes drugged-up, super slut. Do you even read the headlines that typically accompany your face in the paper? Christ, if Dad hadn’t paid off that sleazy-ass pap last week, your ass would have been in the paper along with the girl’s knees, which were clearly visible between your legs.”
Not all of that is true.“I haven’t done drugs since college.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re bringing in an interim CEO. Dad has put me in charge of hiring someone to run things while you make yourself appear to be a choirboy to the public. You will work with this CEO until Dad, me, and the person we hire agree it’s time for you to take back over.”
What the actual fuck?
“You can’t be serious?” I argue. “What the hell would you know about hiring someone to run an advertising firm? You don’t see me trying to hire lawyers to assist you, do you?”
“I’ve grown up in this building too. I know a thing or two about advertising, and as the firm’s counsel, it makes sense for me to do it since Dad can’t.”
“This is ridiculous. It makes no sense. By hiring someone else, you’re confirming their suspicionsI can’t do this when I can. Iam.”
“It isn’t a suspicion, Sebastian.” She frowns. “And, to be honest, you’re not doing anything for this company with the negative press this kind of exposure brings. This isn’t a debate. This is me telling you we’ve contacted a few recruiters for potential hires and interviews will start tomorrow.”
Rage consumes me as I slam my hands on my expensive mahogany desk. “This is fucking bullshit, Madison. All of this—bullshit! How I live my life has no bearing on my abilities in this office. The only people it affects are me and the women Igo home with.”
When I think I’m the only one who feels rage, Madison walks toward me, almost knocking me back a step with her tone. “We’re not continuing this argument, Sebastian. Dad and I have already decided we’re hiring an interim CEO. We can’t keep having to pay off the gossip rags to kill off your stories. You will cost Midtown more money than you bring in with all this stupid shit you keep pulling.”
The simple fact of the matter is Madison is right.I hate when she’s right.Without a doubt,I cost Midtown money. While my father was able to kill off one story, he can’t get them all. He shouldn’t have to. He’s supposed to be recovering and avoiding stress. This is without a doubt stressing him out.
It’s not like I’m out doing things to purposely draw attention to myself. I frequent popular places, and those places happen to have paps outside waiting to get pictures of anyone they can coming or going. How is that my fault? I didn’t ask to be on the city’s most eligible bachelors list two years in a row or featured inForbes“Thirty under Thirty” list earlier this year.
As for the chick on her knees, I don’t know how the press got that photo or the one they released three weeks ago. The blow job happened in the back banquet room of the hotel hosting a fundraiser for childhood cancer.
The only photographers who were inside were the ones hired to take photos at the event. I’m pretty sure I would have noticed one of them with their big ass camera in the dimly lit room.
Why does anyone but me get a say in how I live my life?
You only get one, and I like to live it without rules—wild and on my terms. Sometimes, that means partying a little too hard and spending a few hours with a woman, or three, and making sure they remember my cock between their legs when they wake up.
“Sebastian, I need you to say you understand everything I’m telling you.” Madison’s voice shrinks the hard-on I was getting thinking about last night faster than an ice bath.
I stareat my twin sister standing before me, all brown curly hair and ice-blue eyes like mine. Except,I’m the better looking one, of course. I’m older by three minutes, and I’ll never let her forget it. It’s a twin thing, I guess.
“Stop trying to be thebigsister, Madison, even if you think you’re more mature than me because you don’t get drunk and laid on a Tuesday night.” I remind her with a grin, trying to lighten the mood despite the fact she’s more of a bitch than usual. It’s too early in the day for this much contention.
