Page 16 of The Price of Scandal
“I should have at least checked with your brother. I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault,” she said, reaching for another chocolate. They cost $40 apiece.
“It’s not your fault,” I said again, watching her unwrap the chocolate. In the end, whatever happened within or to my company fell on my shoulders. I was responsible. And I needed to figure out how to best move forward.
“Well, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to help everyone forget about this and move on. I told Helen that this morning,” Lita said.
“You spoke to Helen?” I asked wearily. Helen Krueger was Flawless’s publicist, an artist at “reframing” and “staying on message.” She was also responsible for forty percent of her bicoastal firm’s billing.
“She mentioned that I might need to step up and take on some public events and outings. Do some interviews. Show that things are still running smoothly. That kind of thing,” Lita said, examining her nails.
“Okay. Makes sense,” I said. At least there was one female executive at Flawless that wasn’t mired in drama.
There was a headache brewing at the back of my neck that was threatening to get much worse.
My desk phone beeped. “Ms. Stanton? I have your brother on hold for you,” Valerie said.
I checked my watch. Four minutes until my next meeting. Not enough time to close my eyes anyway.
“Thanks, Valerie.”
“Say hey to Trey for me,” Lita said, patting my knee. “We’ll get through this. You can count on me.”
“Thanks, Lita.”
She took another chocolate out of the bowl and headed for the door. There went $120.
I sank down behind the desk and hit the speaker button. “Hey, Trey. I’ve only got a minute.”
“How was the slammer?” My brother’s voice filled the room with mirth. Trey would be the only Stanton to find the scandal hilarious.
“Nice to see you so concerned for your sister and your friend,” I said dryly.
Trey never had to be concerned with things like responsibility and reputation. He’d unapologetically forged a path as the family screwup. Nothing was expected of him. And I hated him just a little bit for it in this moment.
“Please,” he scoffed. “This will slide off you like tanning oil on a Brazilian bikini model’s ass. You always come out fresh as a daisy.”
“Here’s hoping,” I said, taking a swig of water.
“Anyway, next time you try dating one of my frenemies, tell me, and I’ll spill the tea. Can’t have my big sister edging me out of the family fuckup role.”
“You’re not the family fuckup,” I lied.
“Sure I am. That’s why I need to stay with you when I get back.”
I did not need my brother as a roommate. The last time he stayed with me, I had to give the cleaning staff a bonus and make a generous donation to the HOA to make up for the noise complaints.
“Does this mean you can come back for the gala?” Surely my mother wouldn’t want me to show my disgraced face there now.
“Ha. Hilarious. That’s all you. I’m working on developing a music festival in Malta.”
“Since when are you into the music scene?”
“Don’t you follow me on the ’gram?” he scoffed “Catch up, sis. I’m a high-end event coordinator now. Me and my partners are signing the biggest names in rock, pop, and rap for this thing.”
“Good for you, Trey.” He’d been a DJ in Rio. A model in Italy. A club promoter in Vegas. Now a music festival organizer.
“Let me know if you want me to save you a luxury beach condo,” he said. “I’ll get you VIP tickets.”
“Thanks.”
