Chapter 39
CHAPTER 39
CHARLOTTE
“You have another meeting with your PR team at eleven,” Eric says. His glasses are red today, wire-framed, and rest perfectly on his slim nose.
“Got it,” Aiden says. The composed, competent man is back after the other night. His eyes are sharp and focused on Eric as the two of them go through the rest of the day’s schedule.
Me? I’m sitting on the couch in Aiden’s office, my laptop balanced on my thighs as I’m sorting through a few chapters. My agenda for today includes shadowing most of Aiden’s meetings and attending some kind of gala tonight.
But first, the morning’s briefing with Eric.
It’s been nearly a week since I was last at Titan. Two days since Aiden had given me the car and I rode his hand on the living room couch. We’ve barely spoken since then. He’s been too busy with the latest round of allegations. I’ve watched him work himself to the bone to crush them into dust.
“Lunch with your sister,” Eric says. “I’ve booked a table for two at Fork your keynote is at nine.”
“I’ve got that covered.” Aiden looks over at me. “Has Ms. Gray received an invite?”
Eric nods. “I sent her one just this morning.”
“I’m also in the room,” I say.
Aiden’s lips curve. “Yes, you certainly are.”
Eric looks over at me. “I’ll send a car to pick you up, too. Do you have something to wear?”
These men with all their questions about clothes. It feels like the only thing they want to talk about. “Yes,” I say. “I have something to wear. What is this gala exactly?”
“Titan Media’s annual event. Actors, news personalities, and reality stars will all be there. Awards are given out, people network,” Eric says.
My hands tighten around the thick plastic frame of my computer. “Stars will be there?” I repeat woodenly.
Aiden lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “‘Stars’ in the loosest possible definition of the word. The higher profile actors don’t come to this event. You’ll mostly see tons of industry people, newscasters who are full of themselves, and vapid reality personalities hungry for anyone to cast them in the next embarrassing show.” His voice is dismissive.
His words land right beneath my breastbone, so sharp it feels more like a knife than a punch.
Of course he feels that way.
Many people do. He just profits from that kind of entertainment—here in his fancy office, with his pedigree, elite schooling, and historic family business. But the actual shows are beneath him.
The people are beneath him.
“Those shows make the company a lot of money,” Eric says. His eyes stay focused on his tablet screen. “The stars are assets.”
Aiden looks at his assistant for a long moment. So do I. But Eric is the picture of competent ease. No smile on his face, but no scowl, either.
“Yes. I suppose that’s true,” Aiden says.
I take a deep breath. This is what I can never forget. The kind of man Aiden is. The same type I’m always drawn to. One who will burn me in the end—too hard, too fast, too consuming. And, definitely, not someone I can open up to or be vulnerable with.
Not like that happens often anyway.
I learned early on what comes about when you give someone everything. They take it and leave, or worse, laugh at the offer. And you get nothing back.
“You’ll come tonight?” Aiden asks.
I give him my professional smile. The one I’ve used too often in the past. Armor. “I’ll come.”
As soon as I’m back in the little conference room I’ve been using, the panic rises. Every image I see online from past events draws out additional horror. There are people I recognize. Famous reality stars, producers, industry people. In one picture from a few years ago, I see Blake.
I hadn’t realized this gala would be… that kind of event. I had thought it would be attended by boring investors. A dry shindig, much like the last one I accompanied Aiden to when my zipper broke.
I can’t go.
I haven’t liked crowds for years. Avoided them as much as I could. And when I couldn’t, I wore a cap pulled low on my head.
But tonight wouldn’t be safe for me.
I wait until Aiden is at lunch with his sister. Then I quietly pack up my things as if I’m heading out to grab a bite to eat myself. Cough a few times as I walk through the office hallways, and then slip out of the giant building that Titan Media considers its own.
I get back to the house around the time Aiden should be back in the office after having lunch with Mandy. I shoot off an email to Eric, and then one to Aiden.
I’m so sorry, I’ve come down with a migraine. I don’t feel great. Will just work on the book at home. Please cancel my car for tonight.
To Aiden, I add something extra.
Good luck tonight!
He replies within a few minutes.
Do you have everything you need?
It should be easier. Telling this little white lie, just like the others I’ve said so many times before to hide the year of my life that The Gamble had consumed. Glossing over it, avoiding it.
But it’s not easy, lying to Aiden.
I do, yes. Thanks for asking.
I order food and work on his book instead. There are plenty of chapters I could write from my understanding of what happened or from secondary sources.
I spell out his college years and his first years of working at Titan before he took over as the CEO. It’s different from writing a climax that everyone who’ll read the book will already be aware of—and a climax they’ll eagerly buy the book for anyway.
I need to milk it, but not too much, or I’ll frustrate the readers rather than entice them.
It’s nearly nine in the evening by the time I close my laptop and head to wash my face. I remove my makeup and pull my hair into a bun.
As I’m getting ready for bed, Esmé texts me. She has about fifteen minutes to chat after she’s put the kids to sleep and before she needs to start watching the new period drama with Tim as she promised.
Oh, the married life.
I lie on top of my queen bed and tell my best friend all of my latest updates… except for what Aiden and I have done. Or that he’s the CEO of Titan. I tell her I’m seeing someone, though. Just an anonymous someone .
It still feels too fragile, too new. Maybe it would help me to talk about it. But I can’t find the words.
I call my parents after getting off the phone with Esmé. Their excitement on the line makes me close my eyes against a sudden wave of tears. I don’t call them enough. I don’t go back home enough.
“Is everything okay, honey?” Mom asks. “You sound a bit tired.”
“I am tired.”
“Oh, I bet you are. Los Angeles is a big city. Are they keeping you busy?”
I think of the deadline looming for the first draft. Of Aiden’s unpredictable schedule and my own unpredictable urges where he’s concerned. Of Titan Media, the company my parents hate almost as much as I do. Or used to.
Seeing it from the inside, it’s… well… It’s a company like any other. Profit and loss balanced against corporate goals. It doesn’t make it easier that I was a cog in their giant machine. But at least it wasn’t personal.
“Yes. The subject is… demanding.”
I’m on their speakerphone, likely lying on the living room table between them. “Do you have any chapters I can read, yet?” Dad calls out.
“We still don’t know who it’s about,” Mom adds. “Who’s the subject?”
They’ve both taken such an interest in everything I’ve done since that summer. Since I couldn’t get out of bed for four months straight. I know it took a toll on them, and it feels like whatever I do for the rest of my life will never be enough. I’ll never be able to live down The Gamble .
“I’m still bound by NDA’s,” I say. The guilt makes my stomach churn. They’ll know after. Everyone will, that I wrote Aiden’s memoir. The best I can hope for is that they’ll understand when I tell them why I did it.
The chance that my publisher would give me an opportunity to write something else, with an advance that would see me through a solid year of writing.
We say goodbye, and I curl up on the bed with a streaming service on my laptop. It’s not the one Aiden is so determined to buy. But it’s similar, and as I scroll through the offerings, I quickly bypass all of the reality shows. It’s taken me a long time to be able to watch and enjoy the genre again. The more normal the people are, and the less alcohol involved, the better it goes for me.
I settle on rewatching an old comedy series instead. I’m four episodes deep and nearly asleep when my phone rings. It vibrates incessantly against my comforter.
It’s almost eleven thirty.
The name on the screen sends a jolt through me. Aiden . Catastrophic scenarios race through my mind. People he might have spoken to tonight, clips he might have seen. The last thing I want is for him to think of me as yet another vapid reality star .
But that may only be a matter of time. Despite my new hair color and the changed last name, the past always catches up to me anyway.
I answer on the last possible ring. “Hello,” I say cautiously.
“Hey.” His deep voice is familiar. “I’m almost home. Wanted to check if you’re still awake.”
“I’m awake.”
“I can tell,” he says. “I’m unlocking the front door in a second, and I’ve got food and painkillers for you. Come down, Chaos.”