39
Henrik was about to run after Nora, but he stopped and addressed the audience.
“Regardless of what my father just said, and what you saw in those clips, Nora’s and my relationship is the real deal.” Then he ran. Elnaz was at the top of the stairs, and Nora was racing down them. She grabbed Henrik’s arm. “Let her go.”
He ignored her and kept on running. “Can we talk?” he shouted.
Nora was already out in the street by the time he caught up with her. She had thrown her winter coat around her shoulders and she was clutching her purse. She was still wearing the high-heeled pumps, and looked frozen. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes full of tears.
“I promise I had no idea—that’s not what the production company showed me,” he began. “And what my father said just isn’t true.”
She backed away from him. “I don’t know what to believe. I just ... that was all too much. I need to be alone.”
“Nora, please, can’t we just talk ...” He took a step toward her, but she held up her hands as if to defend herself.
“No. I want to be on my own. Don’t follow me.”
She hailed a cab, jumped in, and drove off, leaving Henrik standing there. She had been on his mind every minute of the last week. He had gone over everything they had said to each other again and again. However hard he’d tried, he couldn’t be angry with her, because he understood. Things had happened so fast between them, and just because he was sure of his feelings, that didn’t mean it would be as easy for her.
He’d been so happy when she walked into the room earlier. He could see that she’d been thinking, too, that she’d come to terms with her feelings, and when she let him hug her, he was sure. They were going to be together. And now this.
He returned to the conference. Where should he begin? He spotted Ted and went over to him.
“What the fuck was that?” he said, gesturing toward the screen.
Ted held up his hands. “I was following instructions. Don wasn’t happy with what we sent in; this was the only version he would agree to.”
“And where is Don?”
“He had to leave.”
Henrik caught sight of Adrian, who looked slightly panic-stricken as Henrik marched toward him. He probably hadn’t had the best day; it’s never a good sign when the stars of a press launch run out of the room.
“Why was my father here?”
Adrian’s eyes darted from side to side. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea he was going to say something like that.”
“But why was he here?”
“He contacted me himself, and we thought that we might as well invite him to join since he was in a couple of the clips ...” Adrian looked terrified, and Henrik could understand why.
And there he was. Henrik left Adrian, went over to his father, and dragged him into a quiet corner.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Hasse looked at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“What you said about Nora and me—why did you do that? Why are you so determined to ruin things for me?”
“Oh come on, don’t take it so hard—I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing—now everyone will be speculating and wondering. Is the romance genuine or not?” Hasse grinned.
Henrik shook his head. Hasse was obviously determined to destroy his show, and Henrik had had enough. This couldn’t go on, and now he had his chance.
“I’ve been thinking.” Henrik looked his father in the eye. “I’m selling my shares in the family firm.”
“You’re selling your shares?” If his father was annoyed, he didn’t show it. He simply raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t need the firm anymore. I don’t need you,” he said in a single breath. He could hardly believe he’d done it, but as soon as the words were out, he felt a physical sense of liberation. And it was a relief. Such a huge relief. He was now free to do whatever he wanted without having to ask for permission, without waiting on anyone else’s opinion.
Hasse snorted. Leaned closer. “You need me, Henrik. You need us. We’re a family and we support one another.”
“Really? Is that why you’re trying to start your own show to replace mine? Because you’re supporting me? Is that why you always try to destroy me and my projects?”
“Is that what this is about? Your bakery? My dear boy, I saved you from a fiasco—you have no business sense. You’re just like your grandfather, far too driven by your feelings.” He shook his head. “And Let’s Get Baking is finished—my new show will rescue the brand and our family. No one cares about Let’s Get Baking anymore, and you pretending to be in love with some small-town baker isn’t going to change that. I just helped you out.”
“The only thing that’s finished is you. You only want to kill off my show because you’re afraid of someone being better than you.”
Hasse frowned, contempt written all over his face. “I’ve given you and your siblings everything—everything. You’re the heirs to a large, successful business.”
Henrik wanted to say that the shares came from his grandfather. Hasse had given him nothing but a life filled with dysfunctional relationships and low self-esteem. But before he could speak, Hasse continued. “I’m the one who made you famous—you have me to thank for everything.”
“I’m selling my shares, and then we won’t have to have anything to do with each other anymore.”
Hasse took a step closer and hissed in his ear. “Fine—just make sure you repay the money you’ve stolen from the company first.”
Henrik looked inquiringly at him.
“We’ve seen your withdrawals. The head of finance noticed that money had gone missing from one of the accounts. Transferred to Nymans. We could report you to the police. This is serious.”
Henrik didn’t say anything. He had regarded the transaction as a loan, but he knew that his father was right. It wasn’t entirely aboveboard and could definitely be used against him.
He turned and walked out of the conference. It was dark now. Cars were whizzing by, and he could see snowflakes in the red glow of their rear lights. He leaned against a wall, took a few deep breaths. He had so much to sort out, but for the first time in his life he felt free, completely and totally free.
Later that afternoon Henrik stormed into TV24’s spacious reception area.
Once he was inside, he slowed down and approached the receptionist with a polite smile.
“Could you please let Don know that Henrik Eklund is here to see him?”
“Of course. Does he know you’re here?”
“No—that’s why I want you to tell him.”
The receptionist tapped on her keyboard and asked Henrik to take a seat. He couldn’t possibly sit down, so instead he paced up and down. He tried calling Don while he was waiting, but got no answer.
Ten minutes later, Don appeared. “Hi, Henrik, thanks for an interesting press launch.”
“I’ve called you twenty times.”
“I think I know why you’re here. Come with me.” Henrik followed him toward the door, but the receptionist called after him.
“Wait—you need a visitor’s badge.” Henrik turned back and took it, fastened it to his jacket.
They went into a conference room and closed the door.
Don sat down at the table while Henrik remained standing, arms folded. “What the fuck was that promo supposed to be? That was nothing like what we agreed to.”
“I didn’t edit it or produce the content.”
“No, but everyone knows it was done on your orders.”
“Yes, and we want a show that people will actually watch. TV24 is very pleased with it.”
“Nora Jansson was portrayed as hysterical and incompetent. It was farcical and undignified. Like I said—not what we agreed on.”
“As I said, we’re super happy with the show—this is going to pull in new viewers. And don’t worry, we’ll include your little romance.”
“I don’t want the show to go out like this. It’s not happening.”
“But Henrik, the final episodes are being edited with that angle in mind as we speak—the team’s already put in several days’ work. We can’t change it now. Besides, we don’t want to change it. The premiere is next week.”
Henrik leaned forward. “And I thought you wanted to get away from docusoaps.”
Don didn’t say anything.
“What was shown at the press launch today is entertainment at the expense of other people’s health and dignity—reality in its purest and dirtiest form.”
Don still didn’t speak, but Henrik could see he had made him think.
“Everything I’ve produced has been a roaring success,” he said eventually. “I know what viewers want.”
“If you don’t go back to the production company and make them change the angle, I will never work with TV24 again.”
Another silence. Henrik was taking a chance; he didn’t even know if they wanted his show next year. Maybe his threat wouldn’t carry any weight, but he couldn’t think of anything else. And he had to fix this; otherwise he risked losing Nora forever.
Don sighed. “Okay, we’ll do what you want. But if the ratings are crap—which they will be—you won’t have a show anyway.”
“Then so be it.”