Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
STEFAN
The sun was on the horizon by the time we stumbled out of the club and into a twenty-four-hour diner. Hours had passed between the dance floor and the table, between alcohol and cocaine, between day and night.
Despite the late hour—or was it early morning?—I was lucid. It was probably the cocaine, or perhaps it was meeting Ruby Sarafina, Kai’s mystery friend who wanted to pitch a work collaboration.
How was this my life? I was the president of a multimillion-dollar magazine, and I knew Ruby fucking Sarafina. Fifteen-year-old me was out there somewhere, screaming at the top of his lungs.
After the initial shock wore off, the guys welcomed Ruby into our group with open arms. They partied with her and treated her like a regular human being, while I was still starstruck. I couldn’t brush it off, even as we packed into a booth to eat and sober up.
“Should we discuss the collaboration at some point?” I asked her when she squeezed in beside me. Shop talk had slipped through the cracks between the alcohol and drugs.
Will grinned. “Look who has embraced the presidency.”
Ruby laughed. “Businessmen can never turn it off, even when drunk.”
Was I drunk? Perhaps a little, but not enough to fuck up my first task as president.
The server stopped by to pour coffee, breaking our conversation. Once she left and the boys drifted into their own discussion about their expedition, I seized the brief lull to shift my focus to business.
“We should talk about your pitch,” I pressed Ruby. “What did you have in mind?”
Ruby took a sip of her coffee. “A singing competition.”
“Like American Idol?”
“More like World Idol. I’m launching a contest where we scout twenty-five countries for the next big rock star.” She jabbed a finger at her chest. “And yours truly will be on the panel of judges.”
“That’s great, but Obsidian’s a travel mag. Wouldn’t your show do better on a reality channel like Bravo?”
She slanted her head thoughtfully. “A few networks have expressed interest in picking up the show, but I need to create hype while taping it. You and your crew could follow us to different countries, photograph the entire journey, and write an eight-installment series featuring a different country in every issue. The ratings will skyrocket if we can generate buzz before the show airs.”
Ruby might call herself one of The Cobras, but she was a shark at business. She had partied with us but remained sober enough to articulate her hefty demands. Her suggestion would take away precious article space. It would give her show exposure, but it wouldn’t propel the magazine’s ranking.
Our server set down a hangover burger, jumbo pretzels, and French fries.
She paused, eyes lingering on Ruby. The blonde bob wig Ruby wore was ingenious.
The guys didn’t recognize her either without her signature fiery red hair.
It was only after I made introductions that they leaned in for a closer look and caught on.
I snatched a fry, slanting my face toward Ruby.
She had a hypnotic quality about her with her radiant face and bright eyes.
Her red cocktail dress was adorned with a gold chain coiled around her neck and a serpent cuff bracelet.
I had idolized her in my teen years, and even now, I couldn’t believe I was sitting beside her.
Nevertheless, my new role required business savviness.
My subordinates would question my qualifications if I couldn’t prove myself.
“People turn to Obsidian to find their next destination or to read about exotic locations,” I said. “It’s highly unorthodox to cover a reality show.”
“We can host the auditions at famous landscapes. You’ll get tons of material to expose your readers to new destinations.”
“I don’t know. We may lose credibility for covering a singing competition. That’s too huge a risk.”
She didn’t bat an eye at my rebuttal. “With huge risk comes huge reward. This isn’t your typical singing competition. It’s a singing and travel reality show, and you’ll be the only magazine covering it. Since it’ll be run in installments, readers will follow the series and pick up the next issue.”
“It’ll take away too many pages. It’ll cost us advertisement space, cutting into our revenue and diluting the travel narrative. The benefits of exposure won’t be worth the financial and reputational trade-off.”
She smiled. “Did I forget to mention we already have five sponsors? They committed to running ads in whichever magazine covers our journey. You’ll be walking into your new job with five advertisement contracts.”
It was my turn to smile. “Why didn’t you start with that?”
We exchanged toothy grins and started ironing out the details. It wasn’t until the server opened the blinds that I realized it was bright outside instead of the pink and orange hues of a sunrise.
“What time is it?” I asked, suddenly nervous.
“Eight.”
Eight! It was eight. I jumped out of the booth. “Fuck. I gotta go.”
Ruby frowned. “What’s going on?”
“I have to see my wife.”
The boys looked confused. “What’s the emergency? Don’t you see her every day?”
“I don’t have time to explain.” I opened the Uber app on my phone. No goddamn cars for the next fifteen minutes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I tried Amelie’s phone, but it went straight to voicemail. It must be dead.
I had never stood my wife up, not once. How could I have been so careless?
Ruby took pity on my frantic nature. “Calm down. I’ll drive you, I’m sober.” Her voice was that of an angel, my savior. “But I didn’t bring my car. Who drove last night?”
“Matt,” we answered in unison. He was in no condition to drive, none of us were, despite eating to sober up.
I threw down cash to cover the bill. With no time for pleasantries, I hurried out, the group hustling to keep up as we rushed to find the car, burning another five minutes in the process.
I gave Ruby my address as soon as we piled into Matt’s car, but she had it pulled up on her phone already. I forgot that she was friends with Kai.
The drive was less than ten minutes, but it felt like hours.
I kept asking her to speed up, and we almost ran into a pole.
Ruby swerved and barely avoided it at the last minute.
Everyone kept asking me about the life-threatening urgency, but I didn’t know how to explain it.
Others wouldn’t freak out over a missed breakfast with their wives, but our relationship was different.
As soon as we arrived, I flung open the passenger door before Ruby could fully stop the car. I unlocked the front door and sprinted inside to find Amelie at the dining table with an untouched breakfast spread before her.
Fuck.
“Amelie—” I started, but was interrupted by a voice following behind me.
“You forgot your jacket,” Ruby announced, with the guys in tow.
Amelie’s red-rimmed eyes darted from me to the woman following me inside. The sight could not have looked more suspicious. Worst of all, Amelie had long accused this woman of being my dream girl.
Double fuck.