Chapter 31 Jesse
THIRTY-ONE
JESSE
Stepping out of the car, I feel immediately bombarded and overwhelmed.
It’s hard to believe there was a time when New York City was my favorite place.
There aren’t even paparazzi here. It’s just the overwhelming noise and busyness of the city that is such a contrast to the long Louisiana afternoons, lazy sunsets, and nights spent wrapped up in Luc’s quiet, calming presence.
It’s sensory overload the moment I step out onto the sidewalk.
The faint chemical tang of floor polish tickles my nose as I make my way through the lobby and to the elevator, where I head up to the top floor. Naz is slouched on a massive leather sofa in the waiting area outside the executive offices.
“Long night?” I ask.
“Hey, stranger. I thought you might never come back.” He reaches out for me to pull him up, and I yank him into a hug.
“I strongly considered moving in with Luc’s family and getting a job harvesting sugarcane,” I tell him, only half joking.
“I’m not sure manual labor is your thing.”
I shrug, then eyeball the conference room. “Kind of feels like it’d be preferable to this, though.”
“Nah, it’ll be alright. We got you,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me inside.
Will and Ari are already here. Ari has his feet propped up in Will’s lap, both thumbing through social media until they notice me. I walk over to them, so they don’t have to get up, bending down to give them each a hug.
“Missed you, man,” Will says.
“It’s been quiet,” Ari adds. “Too quiet.”
We laugh and catch up a bit, then break out in catcalls and appreciation when Emmy appears, carrying a huge tray of bagels and fruit.
A receptionist follows with a coffee and tea cart, and finally Blake arrives.
He seems surprised that we’re all here first, to which Emmy smirks and informs us that he had us be here an hour earlier than the meeting actually started.
“Well done,” Blake praises. Emmy blushes.
The rest of our management, PR, and legal team arrives and take over the conference room with their pressed suits and grim faces.
Our main security team, including both Cory and Tad, Scott, Zane, and Eric, file in along the back wall.
Cory filled me in on the drive from the airport that all of our main security team would be here.
We’re all hands on deck for this mess, it seems.
“Thank you all for joining us,” Blake says, officially starting the meeting. “Jess, welcome back. I hope you’re feeling better. We have a lot to fill you in on.”
He starts from the top, including some of the details he already told me or that I’ve discussed with the guys here and there.
“The source of the leaks has been identified as Curtis Howard. He’s a far-right conspiracy blogger who runs a gossip site that frequently spins stories to fit a particular narrative.
Some of his spicier opinion pieces suggest that Lest Is Moore’s music lures in innocent souls for the devil himself. ”
Emmy gasps. “OMG, you guys are like the real-life Saja Boys.”
Blake stares at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You haven’t seen K-Pop Demon Hunters?”
I sit up straight. I might have watched it with Luc’s sisters, and maybe once or twice more when I was home alone while Luc was at practice. “I’m putting in a heavy suggestion for our Halloween costumes next year,” I say.
Emmy reaches over and pats Blake’s hand as if to say, “It’s okay, I’m here to help.” Blake pulls his hand away and motions for Emmy to zip it.
He clears his throat and continues. “Mr. Howard has some reach, but there isn’t a lot of crossover between your fan base and his. The main issue is that he’s been known to feed hacked information to certain politicians, which is what is exacerbating the current issue.”
Laura, one of our PR managers, speaks up.
“What we need to decide is if pursuing charges and going public is in your best interest, or specifically, the best interest of your friend. From what we’ve discussed, there could be more in the material hacked from your phone that could lead to identification. ”
I nod. “Mr. Martín is comfortable with everyone in this room knowing his identity. Most of you know already, but I want it to be known that his privacy and protection are my top priorities. I don’t care what this Howard jerk says about me.”
“Dude, did you see this video where he accuses us of drinking the blood of young boys? And apparently you keep women chained as sex slaves in your basement?” Naz laughs.
“I didn’t know you had a basement,” Will says.
“I don’t.”
We’re all laughing, but no one else seems to think it’s very funny.
“There’s also the issue of the security company. Scott was the one to figure this one out,” Blake says, gesturing to Naz’s bodyguard.
Scott stands, since the security detail is sitting in the back of the room. Beside me, Naz noticeably straightens up in his seat but looks away as if he doesn’t notice his bodyguard is speaking. He catches my eye, and I raise an eyebrow, but he shakes me off.
“I noticed something off about one of the hired security walking around backstage at the New Year’s concert, he seemed familiar but wasn’t one of our guys, so I kept a closer eye on him. Later, I pulled him to the side and confirmed he did have a phone on his person.”
“All employees outside the main security team and management are prohibited from carrying phones or any type of recording devices backstage,” Blake explains.
“I’m not even allowed to have one,” Emmy confirms.
“So what happened with the guy?” Naz asks. “Could you confiscate the phone and check to make sure he didn’t record anything? Or how does that work?”
“Legally, the most we can do is ask for the employee to show that no photos were taken or videos were recorded, however we cannot technically search someone’s personal phone without their permission,” one of the legal team answers.
“There are clauses in some of our stricter agreements that would legally grant consent for inspection of private property on the premises, but these clauses can be a grey area, and were not part of the contract with this particular security company, as they were hired by the stadium and not through us.”
Scott nods. “I did try to get him to hand over the phone, but he refused, which seemed like a red flag. We got all of his information, blacklisted both the employee and the company from future events, and informed the man, in writing, that any potential leaks would be followed with swift legal action. Afterwards, I did some more digging and confirmed that this same employee was on staff at multiple concerts, all in different cities, hired by the same company.”
Naz groans. “So we’ve had a mole following us around since when?”
“Since the charity concert at least,” Scott confirms.
Well fuck.
“Luc was at the New Year’s concert,” I groan, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes. “What’s the likelihood this guy is sitting on something that could hurt him?”
“If he didn’t have something, why wouldn’t he hand over the phone as proof?” Naz says.
“But if he did, why haven’t we heard anything? It’s been almost three weeks since the New Year’s Eve show.”
“We threatened legal action against both the individual employee and the company as a whole,” Laura says. “Hopefully that will be enough to dissuade them from leaking anything, and that’s assuming they have something worth leaking.”
“Or they’re shopping around for the right incentive,” Blake says. “There are quite a few people with deep pockets that would be willing to pay a lot of money to watch you break again,” he says, looking at me directly.
My hands clench into tight fists. I want to rage. To scream and throw things and light shit on fire. More than anything, I want to crawl back to Luc on my hands and knees and beg him to run away with me. Because as much as Luc says he’s ready for whatever comes our way, I’m not sure he is.
“We’re going public after the Super Bowl,” I say, as much a reminder to myself as everyone else. “We just need to do whatever it takes to keep this quiet until then. It’s just a couple more weeks.”
“Is there anything we can do to distract the press from Jesse and Luc until after the Super Bowl?” Ari asks.
“I can’t think of anything more interesting, unless anyone else is having an illicit affair,” Laura deadpans. “That’s sarcasm, by the way. We don’t need any more scandals, please.”
The room goes oddly silent. Ari pulls his legs from Will’s lap and reaches for a bottle of water. Naz crosses his arms and huffs indignantly. Even Blake looks uncomfortable. I don’t need a room full of people feeling sorry for me when I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
“Calm down, everyone,” I say. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine. What more could happen in just a couple of weeks?”
Famous last words.
Every breath feels like the calm before the break.
Are we strong enough to bend, or will this be it?
Hold on, hold on–don’t let go now.
Even if it’s hard, we’ll figure it out.
Something’s coming. I know you feel it, too.
Will it tear us apart, or make us bulletproof?
Hold on, hold on–don’t let go now.
Don’t be afraid, we’ll figure this out.
Hold on, hold on–don’t let me go.
Hold on, hold on–don’t leave me alone.
Hold on, hold on–don’t let me go.
Hold on, hold on–we’re stronger than we know.