Chapter 6
Tuesday
The penetrating sound of Tony’s voice, coming from the HR meeting room, crawls under my skin, leaving me desperate to both find out what’s going on and seek some kind of shelter.
This is the second time in two hours that Tony’s been in with HR. He’d been pulled in just before lunch for the first meeting, and was then held in another room for a thirty-minute break, only to be summoned back in.
The morning had already gotten off to a frosty start following Tony’s foul-mouthed rant at being taken off the Brewed account.
Pietro had pulled us all into the boardroom before it escalated further.
Sara grabbed something from the printer before following behind, her oversized heels clapping loudly with every step.
“I’ve just got off the phone with Kirk,” Pietro began, not waiting for any of us to take a seat. “Keeping you on the campaign is a deal-breaker, Tony.”
Sara slid a piece of paper across to Tony, a last-ditch effort to retain Brewed.
“We can always try Chappell Roan’s team.” Panic is etched in every line of his face as he passes the lone document over to Pietro. Clearly, I’m not worthy of receiving a copy myself. “She’ll already be in New York for the VMAs and her old hit HOT TO GO! would be perfect for Brewed.”
Pietro dismisses the document outright, pushing it to one side.
“Tony, I’m sorry, but we’ve already changed artists once at the eleventh hour. The shoot is this weekend, and I’m not prepared to switch again.”
Tony opens his mouth, but Pietro is far from finished. He raises his finger.
“You’ve done a good job finding a replacement at short notice.
No one can take that away from you. The CEO of Brewed even called me personally when he’d heard Alexander Morgan’s name was in the mix; apparently his ten-year-old’s a massive fan.
And I’m not going to throw that away just because there’s been a request for a change in personnel for the shoot. ”
“But why?” Tony’s arms are crossed like a petulant teenager. He locks eyes with me. If looks could kill, I’d be cremated right here.
“I don’t know.” Pietro’s attention turns to me.
“Beats me.” I shrug my shoulders, a pang of guilt engulfing my heart.
The shrug sets Tony off, and he rises from his chair.
“You’ve been plotting to get this campaign back ever since I took over.” His fist comes down on the table.
“Sure, because I’ve got nothing better to do with my time than call up whoever works with Alexander Morgan and conspire to have you kicked off the campaign.” I lift my brows.
If only he knew the truth.
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” Venom underscores every word from Tony’s mouth.
“Stop!” Pietro shouts. Tony sinks back down into his seat. “Tony, I want you to share everything you’ve been working on for the campaign with Chris and loop him in with all the relevant people. Sara, for the rest of the week, I want you to solely focus on assisting Chris.”
“But…” Sara stutters, looking helplessly at Tony.
“Is that going to be a problem?” Pietro screws up the paper beside him and launches it into the bin.
“No.” Her head drops forward.
“Good. Then we’re done here.”
Pietro had left me with them, and I didn’t know if Tony was going to launch himself at me, right there. But thankfully he just got up, slammed his fist down on the table once more, and left.
Which to be fair, wasn’t too far off the reaction I’d had last night.
Poor Liam didn’t know what to do with himself when I’d sent my drink flying at the wall after reading the email that Pietro had forwarded. My blood was boiling at the numerous ways Alexander had violated me.
My boundaries.
My career.
The contract Connie had made me sign.
Of all the ways Alexander could force his way back into my life.
Andrew had all but forcibly taken my phone from me to prevent me from smashing it when I’d read Alexander’s response to my text.
Sk8er Boi
I thought you’d be happy to have your Brewed account back.
The sheer audacity.
Acting as if his stipulation was doing me a favor. Like it wasn’t for him. Like he wasn’t once again leaving me to deal with the mess his reckless and ill-thought-out actions had created.
The two Ambien Andrew gave me did nothing to help me sleep. I paced my apartment instead, deliberating how to deal with Paul and Connie.
Ignore them?
Embrace them?
Tolerate them?
No doubt they’re having similar thoughts about our imminent interaction. But the meeting is still an hour away, and right now, I’m intrigued by how this Tony situation is about to unfold.
Julie comes over to my desk and pulls me up and toward the kitchen. She grabs herself another coffee as two heavy-footed security guards stride past us toward the end of the office.
“There’s no way he stays right?” Julie asks.
Rumors have abounded all day about Tony’s dismissal.
Tony’s shouting from the meeting room all but confirmed it.
The commotion gets louder once the security guards reach the room.
The strong pull to look out of the kitchen instantly backfires on me when Tony slams the door open.
His eyes scan the office like an animal tracking its prey on the horizon.
“Guess not,” I say, snapping my head back into the kitchen.
“He did have a chance to come clean.” Julie steps past me to stick her head round the kitchen corner as Tony’s voice becomes louder. Get your hands off me! “But he denied it. Apparently, his face went whiter than a ghost’s when they played the video for him.”
Julie’s carefully curated sources had confirmed that six people talked to HR about a relationship between Tony and Sara, and that, along with security footage of Tony and Sara being inappropriate in the empty office, made their relationship undeniable.
“I can’t imagine she’ll stay around either.” Julie nods to who I assume she means is Sara. I step back and take another look. Sara’s head is down. Headphones on. Shoulders drawn.
“I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her.” My words come too fast and too loud, causing other staff members to look at Julie and me. I return my attention to Julie and lower my voice. “There’s no way I want her involved in helping me on the Brewed campaign. She’ll just go running back to…”
“You did this. You did all of this!” Tony shouts at the kitchen entrance as he passes, foaming at the mouth. The two security guards stand to either side of him.
“If you can’t control yourself, sir, we’ll have to escort you off the premises right now and have your belongings sent to you.”
One of the security guards pushes Tony forward, but his gaze stays locked on my face, his head turning round like the girl in The Exorcist.
I refuse to take my eyes off his and plaster a fuck-off smile across my face.
“Don’t engage.” Julie nudges me, nearly knocking her coffee all over her cream dress in the process.
I let go of the smile and return to my resting bitch face look.
“Guess that answers your question then,” I say.
Now, if only that was the sole difficult encounter I’d have to deal with today.
I glance at the thermostat as I undo the third button of my polo shirt. Did someone set it to seventy Celsius instead of Fahrenheit? The heat in the room is stifling, making it feel like my heart is pumping sludge through my veins.
I swallow down a string of profanities along with some water, all aimed at the gigantic undertaking I’ve just been thrown into. I’d barely had four hours to familiarize myself with the latest on the Brewed campaign before leading this meeting.
The warm welcome back from Caryn, Chloe, and the rest of the Brewed team over Zoom did little to offset the cordial yet ice-cold greeting I got from Connie and Paul. Both are dressed head to toe in black, no doubt to match the color of their souls, and are seated to my right.
My focus intermittently switches from the TV screen to Pietro, Julie, and Kirk, and then over to Paul and Connie.
I find myself looking at the last two slightly longer each time, studying their moves and searching for even the slightest tell.
A clue on how to play my hand. Yet their poker faces reveal nothing.
“Preproduction commences Thursday night,” I say.
Everyone follows along with the schedule on the screen as Paul reaches for a second pastry.
The intensity of his focus, each time it lands on me, unsettles me even more.
“Tanu, the video director who’s been brought in to shoot the commercial, and her team will begin to redress the Brewed coffee store on Fifty-Ninth and Broadway by Central Park.
The reference images can be found on page six of your decks. ”
Kirk flicks through the handout in front of him as Connie reaches for her Diet Coke and takes another sip.
“And the snow machine?” Caryn asks from the screen.
I’m paralyzed by the awkward silence. I don’t know the answer—it’s one of the many holes I have yet to fill in for this campaign.
Pietro jumps in, and relief cuts through me.
“The snow machine is due to arrive Friday afternoon. They’ll frost the windows ahead of the first run-through at ten that night.” Pietro nods at the screen then at me.
I nod back and let out a quick smile. Thank you.
God, there’s so much I need to know and so little time to learn it.
“But Alexander won’t be arriving in Manhattan until after midnight,” Paul says, ignoring Pietro and looking straight at me.
A flake from the bottom of his lip falls onto the page in front of him.
“We have a stand-in for Alexander.” My abruptness catches even me off guard.
“We won’t need him until the evening of the shoot.
There will be an initial test run, so we can set the various markers.
We’ll ensure everything from the Christmas tree to the coffee cups fits each frame perfectly, and we’ll iron out any kinks before bringing Alexander in. ”