Bad Influencer by Kenzie Reed
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Elliott
August is the month of our company’s 125th anniversary celebration, and I can barely focus. Rather than send my grim, angry self up on stage to kick off the festivities and introduce the entertainment at our Washington park, we’ve been featuring multi-generational employee families.
It was apparently Jillian’s idea. She messaged Edith, who passed it on to our publicity department. And it’s genius. We trot out several generations of families who’ve worked for us, with retired grandads and great-grandads cradling babies in their arms, and they give short speeches about how much the park means to them, and everyone goes “Aww!” and the media goes crazy over it. Then they introduce the bands, world famous magicians, and acrobatic troupes that we’ve booked for the events.
Is it enough to cover my public absence? I don’t know yet, and the investors’ meeting is in a week. I’ve barely been eating or sleeping. Everyone at the company tiptoes around me like I’m a landmine about to go off.
I know I’m being unbearable. Hell, I can hardly stand to be around myself. It’s been ten days, and the grief of Jillian’s betrayal remains a heavy weight on my shoulders. And I miss her, and I miss Trevor. My mother’s so upset by what’s been happening that she grabbed my father and they hopped on a plane to go hide out in Paris for a few days.
So the last person I want to see bright and early on a Monday morning is Cameron. Ever since he showed me the folder on Jillian, he’s been on paid leave. I just can’t deal with his increasingly nasty attitude. Unfortunately, I had to summon him to work today. His actions left me with no choice.
The door flies open, and Cameron stalks into the conference room.
“Come to your senses?” he says sulkily, flopping down in the chair facing my desk. “Or you could just keep paying me to stay home. That works too.”
I slam a newspaper down in front of him. It was published this morning and shows Jillian in her gear, climbing our billboard. “Who’s That Girl?” the headline screams. And the news story speculates that it looks a lot like the possibly estranged girlfriend of the CEO of Bradford Family Amusement Parks, and goes on to mention that she was recently seen at an anti-fur protest, brushing off questions about her relationship.
He glances at it, brow furrowing in annoyance.
“So?” He shrugs and leans back in the chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.
“So, what in the actual fuck?”
“You automatically assume it’s me,” he snaps. ”Trevor also had access to those pictures. And he’s got every reason to be pissed at you, since you fired him.”
“I didn’t fire him.” I massage my temples. “He quit. So you’re saying this wasn’t you?”
“Why would I do something like that?” Which isn’t an answer. He looks away as he says it, frowning out the window.
“I actually have a very good friend who works at the newspaper,” I lie smoothly. ”I can find out who sent them those pictures.”
Cameron looks uneasy. ”It would be illegal for them to reveal their sources,” he says.
“What difference does it make? Since you had nothing to do with this.” I stand up. “I’ll go make the call from my office.”
“Wait!”
I sit back down.
He glares down at the floor like a chastened little boy. “I did it to protect you,” he mutters angrily. ”I’m sorry, but you’re just weak as shit when it comes to women. You were going to give her a second chance, I know it.”
“You’re wrong, but that would also be none of your damn business.” I glare at him. “And this puts the company in a bad light at the worst possible time, do you realize that?”
His shoulders hunch defensively. “No, it doesn’t. It only makes her look bad.”
“You’re wrong there. We’ve got another board meeting coming up. And you publicly announced, in violation of all the confidentiality agreements that you signed, that a person who dated me and who worked for us was also trying to sabotage us.”
“Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Hot lava bubbles of anger burn inside me. “Did you hear a word I just said?” I yell. ”I don’t know if I can have you work for us again. I’ll make a decision this week, but I’d also suggest you get your resume in order.” Another old friend gone, another empty space in my heart.
“Already on it,” he sneers. He leaps to his feet.
“Then consider this your two-week notice. And kindly remember the non-compete clause you signed. I can be a real bastard when necessary, Cameron.”
“Oh, I’m well aware.” He stalks out of the room.
I head back to my office with a heavy heart.
“Cameron is out of here permanently,” I say to Edith. “Tell security. Revoke all of his accesses, including his online accounts.”
“On it.” She nods in understanding. “It’s for the best. I know he was your friend, but he’s been moody and erratic, and what he pulled with the newspaper today was unacceptable. Frankly, if you didn’t get rid of him, it would hurt us with the investors. You can’t be seen as keeping on bad employees out of friendship.”
“At this rate I’ll have no friends left.” I smile wryly and reach for her chocolate dish. She smacks my hand. “Hey! I’m wallowing in self-pity here!”
“Too bad. You’re in a hell of your own making.”
“How?” I challenge her. “Trevor made a fool of me and Jillian screwed me over. Is that my fault?”
She just looks at me. Then she picks up a chocolate, slowly unwraps it, and pops it in her mouth.
“Mmm, tasty.”
Wow. Old ladies can be mean as hell.
“Anyway,” I say, annoyance lacing my words, “I’m going to call the newspaper, and demand that they print a retraction. I’ll tell them that Jillian was actually going to do a stunt for our company, but it had to be called off because high winds made it too dangerous for her to reach the top.”
“You think they’ll buy it?”
I shrug. “I’m the CEO. Why would I lie about something like that?” I reach for the chocolate dish again. And I get my hand smacked again. “I mean, unlike some people, like Jillian Fletcher, I don’t believe in lying.”
“You have no idea that she was lying.”
I scowl at her. ”Whose side are you on?”
“I’m on the side of you not being a dumbass,” she says. She pulls the bowl out of my reach and makes a big show of unwrapping another chocolate. “From the way you described it, you didn’t even give her a chance to talk.”
“You know, I’ve always looked on you as something of a mother figure, Edith. And today I’m about to go look for a nice orphanage to take me in.”
“Start making better decisions and you get access to the chocolate again. Now go call the newspaper. Shoo.” She flaps her hand at me.
With a sigh, I go into my office and straighten things out with the reporter. Then I call up Jillian’s home number and speak into their answering machine. Hello, 1990s.
“This is Elliott. Cameron released that picture to the newspaper today, without my permission, and he is no longer working here. I’ve called up the newspaper and explained that it was a publicity stunt, and you were in on it.” I keep my voice stiff and formal, hiding all the hurt that’s bubbling up inside of me. ”If you have any other problems, or if this causes any issues for your father, please call me and I can issue whatever kind of written statement you need.”
I hear the sound of someone answering the phone. My heart leaps in my chest. I want to hear Jillian’s voice again. She royally screwed me over, but a part of me doesn’t care. I just want to hear her talk. Even if she’s yelling at me and cursing me out.
But I’m in for a disappointment.
Oh, there’s yelling and cursing, but it’s not Jillian. It’s her roommate Bronwyn.
“That’s what you’re sorry about?” she shouts at me. “Kiss my ass, you miserable pile of dog turds!”
“Can you please just pass the message on to her?” I force my voice to remain calm.
“Can you please just roll in barbecue sauce and take a swim through a shark tank?”
“Very mature.”
She answers me in a high-pitched voice. “Very mature.” Then she slams down the phone.
I stare at it. “Very mature.”