Chapter Forty-Eight
Brennan
Izoomed past the members of the press crowded around my building as I entered the parking garage Tuesday morning. Nope. Not interested in talking to them.
As I entered the elevator, my phone buzzed again. Not interested in talking to my mother or her publicist either.
The doors opened into the lobby, and some people got on. A few people looked at me, one whispering to another, someone else checking their phone. Fortunately, everyone had the good sense to not say anything.
Oh, now Liam was calling. Ignore. Fuck you. Katie had also texted.
Katie
Alliance activated. I am out of fucks and ready to burn everything down.
Well then. There was also a text from Spencer’s cousin.
Daphne
Sorry your mom’s a bitch. Not sorry for what I’m about to do. Offer stands.
Finally, I got to the floor my office was on. My assistant froze at her desk, fear wafting off her.
“I’m so sorry. Please believe me. I didn’t upload it. I promise. Yes, I showed it to my brother, but I never thought that it would end up online. Please don’t fire me,” Shayla pleaded. “I didn’t erase it in case you needed it.”
Shayla was a beta and had been with me for a couple of years. I’d been wary of hiring her because she was fresh out of college and I wasn’t sure she’d have the skills an executive assistant needed, but she’d been highly recommended.
And didn’t disappoint.
“What? No. Why would I fire you? I know it’s not your fault,” I assured, just like I had yesterday when the video she’d recorded of my mother hitting me had first appeared on the internet.
I’d sort of hoped it would go away. Overnight it exploded, and this morning it continued to spread. I still wasn’t mad at Shayla.
And I wouldn’t be even if she had done it on purpose.
Relief crossed her face. “Thank you.”
“Do you know how hard it is to find good assistants?” I told her.
“Um, also… I don’t want you to think that I’m getting rid of you, but I know you’ve been wanting more project management experience.
I’d really like you to help Gregg with the project management for the non-renovation aspects of the opening of the estate project.
Especially since we’re holding our first event there in September. ”
While I’d still be involved, the time had come to put my teams in place.
Her face lit up. “You want me to help with the estate project?”
“Yes. I’m really impressed with how you took the initiative to get your project manager certification and take the exam.
I’ve also heard good things about the work you’ve been doing with non-profits to gain experience.
You’re an ideal person to assist Gregg since I’ll still want regular reports and will weigh in on things,” I added.
“Thank you,” she replied. “Um, you’re wanted down in PR.”
Of course I was. “They know where to find me.”
With a sigh, I went into my office and logged in.
My email and phone messages were flooded.
Some were from people who actually cared about me, expressing concern.
A few were business partners and colleagues asking for reassurance.
Others were reporters, fake friends, nosey fucks, and people pestering me on behalf of my mother.
Delete.
Terrance popped his head in. “Do you have a minute?”
“For you, always.” While I should deal with some of these emails, they could wait.
“Good.” Terrance came in, closing the door and taking the chair in front of my desk. “I’m guessing you’re not following all this with your mom closely.”
“Fuck no.” I didn’t even have social media.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “So… it’s gotten worse. While your mom is generally very careful and good at keeping up appearances, not everyone loves her, and she has slipped a few times. People are speaking up.”
“I figured.” I sighed. “She does throw her power around sometimes.”
“Bren, one of them is someone from the rehab facility that your mom forced you into.”
It was like being hit with a brick. “Fuck.”
That was something few people knew. Most people just had heard that I was seriously hurt and took a while to recover, which was the truth. Even Caroline had dismissed it as me just needing some time to heal and brood, as she’d put it.
“Yeah, and that caused the ambulance driver to speak up about how we literally jail-broke you.” Terrance’s look went grim. “I’m going to have to make a statement before this spins out of control. I mean, it’s all in our favor right now, but we want to keep it that way.”
The last thing I ever expected was for all that to be in the media. Shit. I didn’t like people in my business.
“You’re also going to want to control the media–both for you personally, and the company. Right now, you’re fine, but your brothers are being attacked big time, and so is the foundation,” he added.
An email came through from Misty, the head of PR. We really need to talk about what’s going on and probably hold a press conference.
With a sigh, I replied. Draft a statement and send it to me.
I didn’t want to hold a press conference, but I would if I had to. Maybe a statement would be enough.
“They’re attacking the foundation?” I frowned.
“Yeah, they’re calling for the resignation of your mom, Troy, and Liam from the foundation board. Right now, your dad is safe, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he has to blame cutting the omega scholarships on them.” Terrance rubbed his temples.
“Wow.” The foundation had a backup plan for that exact scenario, but I wasn’t sure my father would do it. “Is her company under fire?” It was privately held, but bad press could still affect so many things.
“Yep. Every project that is publicly held is taking a beating in the stock reports today. If I were a lesser man, I’d suggest buying up the State Street project out of spite. But some shell company from the Mediterranean is gobbling things up while they’re cheap.”
My mind went back to Daphne’s text.
“Morris Company has publicly traded projects?” I didn’t know that. Not that I paid much attention to them anymore.
“A few. State Street is one of them,” he replied.
I responded to Daphne, now getting what she was doing.
Me
Go ahead. Send over the papers when you’re ready.
“One of Spencer’s business tycoon cousins wants to take over the State Street project and turn it into an artist colony.
Pretty sure that’s her,” I remarked. “She was telling me about her project at Spencer’s party.
It sounds great. It’s honestly not that different from what my mom wants to do, but instead of luxury apartments, it’s artist lofts.
The businesses are all local, not chains.
The community workspace will have things like kilns and forges, and there’s a place for plays and performances.
Oh, and there are quarterly art festivals so you can see the artists' work. I agreed to sell her my building because she has a clear vision and an excellent track record.”
“Yeah, I talked to her, too, and I love the sound of it. Hey, my family had a fantastic time at the party. That was the fanciest bouncy castle ever–and my kids loved being at the kids' table. When Grace’s little sister comes to visit for camp, can we have a playdate?”
“That’s a Grace question. But I think there’s plans for Everydoll and Stuff-A-Stuffie,” I replied, ignoring my phone as it rang.
He nodded. “My kids love those places.”
My assistant called my desk phone, and I answered it. “Yes, Shayla?”
“Misty is here and needs to see you.”
Of course she did.
“Send her in.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger.
The door opened. Misty, the alpha who headed my PR department, appraised us.
“Good, you’re both here.” She closed the door. “What the actual fuck? Your mom had you institutionalized, and Terrance and your sister broke you out?”
“Jett also helped.” Shit. I should warn him. “Also, my dad fought my mother over it and lost.” I felt the need to defend him right now.
“What happened?” She pulled over a chair.
I gave her the quick version. While the company had existed then, it wasn’t the operation it was now.
It was mostly a few of us doing too much.
My being out of commission was part of what led to us actually getting proper staffing and offices, because Terrance needed help to keep the company from failing.
Though he’d still overworked himself to keep everything going. Misty hadn’t been there then.
“Fucking shit.” She shook her head. “We have to get ahead of this. Especially since she and her company are doubling down. This could be terrible. At least you’ve already started distancing yourself from them.
Changing your last name and them removing you from the foundation board speaks volumes.
As does your sister leaving the company,” she added.
“Katie’s ready to rampage,” I agreed.
“I sent you a statement, which I'd like to release five minutes ago. We’ll probably need a press conference, too. Terrance, you’ll need to say something as well.”
“I already started drafting something. When I return to my office, I’ll send it to you.” Terrance nodded.
“Misty, I’d rather not do a press conference, but if it’s needed, I will. While I won’t trash my mother, I will speak the truth.” I sighed again and opened the statement she sent me. “I’ll make changes and get it back to you.”
“Good. I’ll set up the press conference.” She stood and left.
I sighed. “Did you know that I fucking hate press conferences?”
“I know. I’ll be there. Hey, maybe after the conference you can take off for the afternoon. Go for a ride or take your frustrations out on the piano or a punching bag,” Terrance said.
“That sounds like a good idea.” I sent Jett a quick text warning him.
“I should finish that statement. You know where I am if you need me. Um, can I trash her?” Terrance asked. He knew a lot of shit about my mom given how long we’d been friends.
“By all means.”