Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MAIA
“You must be pleased with how the campaign is starting.”
I glanced up from the latest national sales reports, my brain still on my last thought about meeting with Christina to discuss ending our relationship with a certain designer.
This was the fourth season we were at a loss on sales for the items. I knew the designer was a friend of the Erstwhiles, but the clothing was much too punk rock for our clientele, and we were continually putting what items we had into sales stock, sometimes having to slash eighty percent off the retail value to move it.
The sound of Becky’s voice was the last thing I wanted to hear when I was contemplating such a difficult conversation with my boss.
And the catty look in Becky’s eyes was the last thing I wanted to see when I’d had my fill of cattiness for the day. Usually, Eli was there to block her entry, but they’d already left for the day.
I made a noncommittal sound of agreement. “I’m sorry, Becky. I really need to get this report finalized before I finish up.”
“Finishing early again?”
What a little … “Technically, I’m already into my overtime. You and I are the only ones left at the office.”
“Yes, well, I’ll be staying until the work is done.”
“My work will be done once you go back to yours.”
Her eyes flashed at my rare bite back. It was clearly taken as antagonism because she leaned her arse on my desk and said with saccharine falseness, “You mustn’t pay attention to all the comments online. You know how people enjoy tearing others down.”
“I’m not paying attention to the comments.”
At noon, the first video went live on Pennington’s social media.
The team had edited it together well. It showed us on the hot air balloon, Baird pressing his chest into my back as we looked out at Edinburgh.
Music played over the edited videos as I pointed down at the field where the announcement had been spelled out.
The drone camera footage had been knitted in nicely between that, and then a voiceover actor explained to the viewer who we were and how they were following our journey to marriage.
The music died down so Baird and I could be heard introducing ourselves … and then our kiss.
A kiss that looked pretty realistic. In fact, my whole body had flushed hot from top to toe when I watched us. We looked … right together. And that freaked me out.
The video went viral. Hilary was ecstatic. The follower count on Pennington’s socials had already seen a huge bump. So had my own followers. And Baird’s.
An hour ago, I made the mistake of checking the comments.
There were so many girls crying over Baird being off the market.
Literally. The comments were filled with the sobbing emoji.
Then there were the catty comments about how I’d never hold his attention and eventually he would cheat.
There were even volunteers to help him cheat!
Lots of people placed bets on how long the marriage would last. Then there were the comments about how disappointed in Baird they were for choosing “a typical WAG.” What did that even mean?
In among all that were comments about how our chemistry was fire. People defended me. My DMs exploded with a mix of congratulatory messages from complete strangers and disgusting sexual overtures from people who wanted to hook up with me.
I wondered if Baird was being treated to the same.
“I do know people like to tear others down. I do indeed know that,” I said a little too pointedly.
Becky’s eyes narrowed and she pushed off my desk. “Well, even if you and Baird don’t last, at least your wedding is free.”
I hated how much she was going to gloat when Baird and I got divorced. But I refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d annoyed me.
“Silver linings.” I gave her a fake-ass smile back and turned to my computer. I stared at it intently until her heels finally clacked out of my office.
Ten minutes later, I finished up and hurried toward the lift to get away before Becky accosted me again. I’d just stepped out of Pennington’s when my phone rang. It was Baird.
The relief that washed over me should have been worrying.
I’d kind of expected him to text once the video went live, and when he didn’t, I’d secretly panicked he was in regret mode about the campaign.
Then I wondered if that was being self-involved, considering he was showing John around Blantyre Castle today.
After our shoot on Monday, we convinced John to join us for dinner.
Callan met us at the restaurant, and I think my presence helped take their minds off everything.
Until Baird gathered the courage to press John a wee bit more about joining the business.
He explained it was a way to keep him here until he figured out what he wanted to do.
They’d gone back and forth and didn’t really come to a decision.
I felt terrible for John because what he wanted to do was play football, but his agent couldn’t drum up any interest from UK teams or anywhere in the world and had suggested they part ways. John was teamless and now agentless.
Yesterday, Baird texted and told me John had agreed to try working for them and was shadowing Baird at Blantyre today.
I answered the phone, eager to hear Baird’s voice. “How did it go?” I asked, trying to be supportive and not self-involved.
“I’ll tell you about that later.” His deep voice in my ear was an honest-to-goodness balm to my soul. “How are you doing with the video going viral so quickly?”
“We knew there was a possibility that could happen.”
“Well, this is it. We’re in it now.” His tone was teasing, and I took that to mean there was no regret.
I bit my lip. “Did you read the comments?”
“I never read the comments. Did you read the comments?”
“Maybe.”
“Trolls?”
“Maybe.”
“They’re just angry, jealous morons hiding behind their phones.”
“I know that.”
“Aye?”
“Becky was salivating, though.”
“Becky needs someone to remove that Barbie doll from her arse,” he muttered.
That stopped me in the street as I threw my head back on a dirty cackle of laughter.
Baird’s voice was warm with amusement. “Or maybe it’s a GI Joe.”
I snorted. “Oh, you have no idea how much I needed that.”
“I’m glad.”
“Do you want to come over? We’ll order takeout?” I blurted. I hadn’t seen him all week because he had to miss our last swimming session for a work thing.
And I missed him.
“I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up without another word.
I burst out laughing again, anticipation thrumming through me as I hurried through New Town to my place.
Not wanting to analyze why, I was already mentally searching my closet for something cute but casual to change into and cursing myself for being behind on my laundry because I had this slouchy cropped tee that fell off one shoulder that would’ve been perfect. But it was in the wash.
Considering alternatives, it took me a second to process the visual at the top of my stairs.
Standing outside my flat was Will.
A very, very angry-looking Will.
The sight of him brought back a flood of conflicting emotions. Mostly hurt. And resentment.
Cautiously, I approached, pulling my keys from my purse. “What are you doing here?” I asked once I reached the landing.
He huffed, “What am I doing here? I’ve had to resort to hunting you down because you blocked me everywhere else.”
Stay calm. Do not give him the satisfaction of seeing emotion from you.
“When someone blocks you, it means they don’t want to speak to or see you, Will. It means you should probably not hunt them down.” I jammed my key into the lock. “Go away.”
“Not until we talk. Please. I’ll just come back tomorrow. Or I’ll camp out here.”
I frowned, letting out a huff of heartfelt annoyance. “Fine. Come in. But you get five minutes. That’s it.”
As soon as I entered my living room, I dropped my purse on my coffee table and whirled around.
Will was not at my back.
“Will?”
He appeared in the doorway, his expression pinched. “You … you took down the photos of us. From your wall.”
Oh.
Guilt pricked me. Followed by irritation that I’d feel guilty for something I totally had the right to do!
“We’re not together anymore so, yes, I took them down.”
His handsome cheeks turned ruddy. “And are we not together anymore because I asked for space to figure things out or are we not together anymore because you were fucking the Caley United goalkeeper behind my back?”
Rage unlike anything I’d experienced in a long time flushed hotly through me.
It made my voice low, my tone seething as I responded, “No. I did not cheat on you. Baird and I were just friends. At least on my side of things. But after you emotionally cheated on me and we broke up, he told me he had feelings for me.”
Will’s jaw clenched before he hissed back, “We hadn’t broken up. You blocked me!”
Was he insane? There went my vow not to engage with him.
“I blocked you because we broke up! We broke up the moment you asked me to wait around while you decided which of your girlfriends you thought deserved you.”
Will strode toward me, his expression so uncharacteristically aggressive I tensed but refused to step back. “Therefore, you decide to get engaged weeks later to another man? And to do it publicly. What? To humiliate me?”
Oh my goodness. How had I not realized how self-involved this prick was? “No. Becky put me forward for the campaign without my permission, and if I didn’t do it, I’d lose my job. The engagement was never supposed to be this public.”
“Oh, that’s right. Blame a colleague. Blame everyone but yourself.”
All the months I’d complained about Becky he’d never taken my side in it.
Not like Baird.
I realized that while there were a million ugly things I wanted to spew at this man, he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth the energy.
“Get out, Will. I don’t know what your purpose in coming here was, but get out.”