Baby Daddies - Tara Brown Page 0,8

clients and Mr. Farringdon needs the favor. His reputation is already tattered. We have to make him the hero of the story.” Stan shrugs and my brother’s words jump to the forefront of my mind. “Mr. Eckelston will take his three-game suspension for misconduct—”

“Three games! I can’t let this happen. Lori didn’t come to LA to get me to date him, I was already seeing him.” The confession burns my throat, but it’s obvious Stan is aware of this skipped-over detail. “When he saw the pictures of Liam kissing me in the elevator, he was furious. Which he had a right to be. And Liam threw the first punch. Lori was genuinely defending me, and if he hadn’t, my brother would’ve been the one beating Liam’s ass. Liam Farringdon is a terrible person.”

“They’re all terrible people, Jenny.” His tone changes, “That’s why they need us. If celebrities could handle being rich and famous without shitting the bed, we would be out of work. But the sad fact is, this is a babysitting gig. I thought you understood that.” Stan’s face turns that scary shade of red.

“I can’t let Lori take the blame, he did nothing wrong.” I refuse to give in on this.

“Neither did Natasha Wentworth, but we blamed her, didn’t we? And that was your idea. Which you had no problem doing.” He points at me, no longer that sweet older man who reminds me of a grandpa. His words make me disgusted, with him and myself. “And I’m sure you’re already aware, the relationship with Lawrence is over. You can’t date a client. I’m shocked I need to explain that to you,”

“What?” I can’t stop saying that word.

“You heard me, no Lawrence Eckelston. And I expect you to put in some appearances with Mr. Farringdon, to ensure everyone believes the story of him defending you.” His words are a harsh reality check. No Lawrence. Is that what I want? Is any of this what I want, or want to be part of?

As if sent by God, or Mom, my phone vibrates and my eyes can’t fight glimpsing down at the message from my brother.

If you don’t date that Lawrence guy, I will. He’s awesome. And quit that stupid job.

“I quit,” I say with no confidence in the statement. I’m not entirely sure if I’m repeating Josh’s words or if I’m taking a stand or just blackmailing Stan to do this my way, which makes me feel worse. I’ve become a terrible person in this job. A person my mother wouldn’t recognize.

“What did you say to me?” Stan barks, making me jump and look up to see the vein in the middle of his forehead pop out and pulsate.

“I quit,” I whisper.

“Is this a joke?” He scoffs.

“No, sir.”

“You ungrateful little bitch! Fine! You wanna quit for some hockey player, you can leave the building right now. I’ll have Sukii bring you your things.” His tone lowers to a creepy quiet, “And I expect you’ll have your belongings out of my apartment by tomorrow.” He arches an eyebrow, and I finally see the villain who built this company and made it the success it is. The cutthroat everyone spoke of, but I could never picture until this moment.

Without another word, I grab my purse and rush from the office, not sure if I’m numb from the shock of everything or just desperate to fix this because as usual, Josh is right.

I’m not thinking, I’m running.

I race past everyone to the elevators and push the button like a crazy person until one of them shows up. I jump in and press the “L” for the lobby.

My pulse is pounding as I tap my phone against my palm and bite my lip so hard it burns. The moment the elevator lands, I burst through the front doors and sprint for the subway. I’m pushing through people and running so hard the anxiety sweat becomes actual exercise sweat.

I’m huffing my breaths when I get through the doors and squish in with everyone else, gripping my purse as though I stole it.

A guy next to me wrinkles his nose at the water dripping down my face.

“Anxiety sweat,” I say with heavy breath.

“Gross, man.” He leans back a bit.

“Yup,” I agree and cling to the pole, grateful my deodorant is going strong.

It feels like forever to get to Fifty-ninth but the moment the doors are open, I’m through them, sprinting again. Pushing through people, I head back to the street, knowing how crowded Lexington will