Chapter 20
A BAD DEAL
ELOISE
London Daily Times
Ireturned from the kitchen with a roll of biscuits and two refreshed glasses. Duncan was on his phone, face drawn in a scowl.
“What's up?” I asked.
He looked up. “Shit. How long have you been standing there with that glass of wine?”
“Not that long,” I assured.
I sat opposite the side table between us and ripped into the roll of biscuits.
“It's a nightmare,” the Prince muttered.
“Is it? What is?”
“My idiot cousin! He and his perfect wife brought the paps cookies. You act like you have no idea!”
“I don't. That's smart, though.”
He looked salty. “That bastard is always the clever, good one. He'd do that to make me look like a knob.”
“Or to take the heat off you. Look, I don't know what happened with that photographer, but I won't deny that if it were my family, I'd do the same.”
“It's so complicated.”
“I know. Look, I have experienced the pain that comes from being the butt of a joke or five when circumstances change. Feeling like you're a walking gossip column isn't fun for anyone. I get it. Maybe not as much as you do—probably not.”
“What happened to you, Miss… Ella?”
I smiled at his almost calling me Miss Mills.
“It's boring. In my small pond, something happened to my family and suddenly we went from being admirable to pariahs.
That's such old news now. But I was young and it hurt. It illustrated the worst in society. I am... past it now. But like... it was awful.”
“Is that why you became a spin-doctor?”
“Oh, I'm an actual spin-doctor now?” I chuckled. “You honor me.”
“Well, is it true?”
“I guess, in a way. I wanted to help people. I don't honestly know that I do, but I do solve crises. It’s a runner’s high.”
We sipped our wine. I tried not to crunch on the chocolate-dipped digestives too loudly.
“You're helping. I am not helping, but you are doing a brilliant job, Ella. I wouldn't have an ounce of compassion for me in your circumstance.”
“I think you would,” I said. “You don't strike me as cruel—not now anyway.”
“Gee, thanks, Ella!”
I snickered. “Oh, stop. You're fine! And if you are feeling like you aren't helping you, it's because you really aren't.”
I worried about being too forthcoming. I shrank.
He sighed. “Tell me, Miss Mills. What can I do to help myself?”
“Do the doc.”
“Ugh. Not again!”
“No, listen,” I said, staring at him straight on. “Do it. Do it because you are wonderful like this—just being yourself. People will find you sweet and kind. Because if you let yourself be, you are. They will see the man who can cart around babies. Women love that shit.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it's adorable. Because I know you are human—a fallible human like the rest of us.”
“That is perilous, Ella. To be too human is the end of the world.”
“You can be both larger than life and still yourself, Duncan. Do the show. Help me help you.”
He sat in quiet, looking at the fire. My heart leapt at the idea I could make him commit and get my bonus. I didn't tell him about my own motives. It didn't make sense to spoiler it. I felt strongly this was best for him—regardless.
“I dunno. I'm not convinced, Ella.”
“What would convince you?” I sipped.
“You.”
“What? I just—”
“I'd do just about anything if I could fuck you, Ella. I'd even endure this abomination if it would please you. You've convinced me I probably should, but it would take more.”
I couldn't believe the nerve! He was the client, for one. Two, it was ridiculous! It was not the first time a client had come onto me. However, he was certainly the most handsome and eligible yet.
He wanted me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered. He was delightfully older, fabulously wealthy, famous, had a jaw that could cut glass, and was fit. And he wanted me.
Sadly, curious and flattered as I was, I never trusted men to follow through on promises and knew that the minute he had me, he'd have won. I wasn't about to give him that satisfaction so he could run off. I'd be without my pride and my bonus. No apartment, no peace, no pay rise.
“I won't,” I said.
His eyes dropped. “I probably shouldn't say that. I'm pissed and cross with my cousin. I shouldn't have.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
I got up, leaving for the kitchen. He’d crossed about fifteen lines. I left my phone on the counter and scrolled it nervously, about to text Monique an SOS. What the hell did I do?
A text greeted me from Jax.
Jax
We really need to move forward on this. The director just messaged me again. I need an update.
Texting me on a holiday was so on brand!
Frustrated and without answers, I replied, trying to buy time.
Me
He’s being difficult. I think I am close.
Jax
Do whatever you need to make this work. I need you to deliver, Eloise.
Annoyed, I stepped into a bathroom off the butler’s pantry and ran water. I dialed. If she abused my time, I would abuse hers. Shaking, I waited for an answer.
“Yes?” Jax said, annoyed.
“What is the game here? You’ve sent me away to be here and babysit him. I did. I produced results. I cannot force a grown man to do this movie.”
“His mother wants this. She needs this.”
“Why? There are many ways I could rehab his image without—”
“Do I need to explain to you who his mother is? And that she would like to retire. People need to love him. Your principal’s future is on the line. If she agrees this is helpful, it will be done. Do not make me think you’re incapable of doing it.”
I set my jaw. “At what cost? Forcing Duncan only makes him act out, yes?”
“So, what you are saying is that you don’t know how to lead clients to the right answer? You aren’t truly a fixer if you cannot deliver on convincing them.”
How did I explain to her that the only way to get him to convert was for him to convert on me?
“Jax, he seems to be altogether too interested in my approval. It makes me uncomfortable—”
“So, he has a crush?” That thought delighted this bitch! “Use it.”
Use it?
“In my assessment and Abi’s, he is approval driven. He has mummy issues. So, if he wants you to play mummy and approve, let him feel that.”
“That is unprofessional—”
“Use those wiles, alright? Don’t do anything that you don’t want to do.
I’m not suggesting you create a scandal or endanger yourself, okay?
But that grey area exists and I’ve been there.
Is it any different than letting a news agency think something is more salacious than it is?
Or selling a story you know won’t go anywhere?
Or massaging the truth daily? I know for a fact that you’ve done that. ”
I mulled it over. I had. It was an acceptable business practice to do the aforementioned things.
Jax sighed. “We aren’t saints, Eloise. We are highly paid guardian angels who swoop in to make our devilish clients look saintly.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“With all due respect, if I use all my convincing powers, I do hope I am highly paid.”
“You will be, but I need to see dedication here. We will never land this tier of client again if you cannot come through. Her Majesty’s recommendation is platinum and everyone knows Prince Duncan is a bloody head case. You will be able to say you did it.”
I knew that wasn’t true. No one took credit for this but Abi and Jax. However, I needed this raise. She had to have done enough to get to this point, right? Jax knew the game. Perhaps, this was the thing that would buy me that coveted fixer shingle.
“I will consider it, Jax. I will,” I said. “I think I have a plan.”
“Good,” Jax said, delighted. “But mind yourself. Don’t do anything that would either reflect poorly on us, or which would put you at risk. It’s not that he makes you feel unsafe?”
“No.”
Duncan crossed boundaries and wasn’t particularly professional with me, but he wasn’t dangerous.
Jax’s assessment was right. Duncan was a golden retriever with mommy issues.
He was desperate for my attention more than anything.
He wanted me to play the boss. It was the only way out. I adjusted my expectations.
“We’ll talk next week, then,” Jax said. “Have a good holiday.”
I feigned happiness, “You, too.”
I hung up and stared at myself in the mirror. Jax was right. I’d always been a bit morally grey. I craved the danger of chasing leads and convincing people to see our side of things. Why was this so different?
I elected to reframe things. I leaned into it.
After all, I could admit I found him attractive.
I didn’t fear him. It could be hot, right?
It was a game. And that game could net me everything and more—everything I needed to put my life together the way I knew I deserved.
This might be my only card left to play.
He works for me or this doesn’t work.
I would use Duncan’s desperation and inappropriate conduct to get ahead. I had fought too hard and too long to make a name for myself to call uncle. As I strode back into the living room, I took back my power.