Chapter 92
“Baby,” I say, squeezing her thigh in the cab back to my place. “I’m not stressed. You don’t need to be either.”
“Yes, I do! Real-ity is my client, and it’s my job to mitigate as much negativity as possible.”
“Business Dani is so intense.” I meant for it to be playful, but instead, she taps a contact in her phone and starts speaking with someone.
In the condo, Dani grabs her laptop from the coffee table, then goes into my office, locking the door.
I’m a little disappointed she hasn’t taken a moment to talk about what I said about her and us on stage, but I understand.
An hour later, she comes out of the office on speaker with the British reporter who interviewed me. Dani puts her finger to her lips, signaling for me to be quiet. “Are you sure you can’t make the headline something else?” she asks in a voice I know to be flirty, and I furrow my brow.
The reporter sighs. “Only because his last article was my most viewed story of the year.”
“So what’s the headline going to be now?” she asks, smiling at me, clearly happy with how this interaction is going.
“Breaking: Real-ity’s Gideon Stone moving into chairman role, citing burnout.”
“Approved.”
“You owe me,” he says, flirting.
“Only if you publish right now.”
“It’s live,” he says after a moment.
“Thanks, Auden!” she says, then hangs up.
“Is that how you talk to all the reporters?”
She glares at me. “You’re going to be mad that I got one of the most respected commercial real estate outlets to publish a story about you stepping down that has no negativity in it?”
“Burnout isn’t negative?”
“No one is going to make you prove anything about your mental health, and it’s rude for them to comment further on it. It’s a safe excuse. Plus, not a lie either.”
I take a deep breath, channeling maturity, but I didn’t like how she was just talking with him. “Thank you,” I say, looking into her eyes.
“You’re welcome.”
“Are you done working now?”
“Yes. Tomorrow, the articles are going to be what they’re going to be. Brace yourself for a lot of chatter about how capable you are and if Real-ity is fucked or not.”
“Come here, baby,” I say, extending my arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t stick to the plan.”