know if there’s shit that hasn’t hit the fan yet.”
Scott sighed and tucked away the mental images of coffee-shop woman for use later. “It wasn’t a big deal. I stopped by the Digital Media booth to see what they’ve got going on. One of the girls was friendly, so we chatted. She may or may not have slipped me her room key. How was I supposed to know their VP of marketing was tapping that? Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to.” She’d laughed at all his jokes, but he’d had serious doubts she’d understood them.
Zach growled. “Tell me how this led to you pissing off one of our board members to the point he’s threatening your job.”
Scott’s didn’t have to ask who. Hank Cartee wanted his job every other week. It wasn’t much of a threat. “I swear anyone watching thought the entire thing was staged. He insulted me, I insulted better. And maybe louder. Just like that dumb-ass game of theirs with the stupid-as-hell gangsters who all sound like Harvard graduates. What was I supposed to do, let him call me a hack and just walk away?”
“Yes.” The single syllable was distinct. “You know how many eyes were there. How many people were watching.”
Maybe that was why Hank had canceled their meeting after. Scott kept the thought to himself. “So?”
“This is getting old, Scott.” Zach exhaled again, the breath echoing off the microphone. “The industry already thinks we’re a couple of incompetent kids who got lucky, and this isn’t helping. Hank is serious this time.”
Scott snarled silently at the speakers, glad Zach couldn’t see him. Hank was serious every time. A forty-something trust-fund baby from California with a bigger stick up his ass than…
Finishing the thought would just piss him off more, and he wanted to retain at least some of the buzz from coffee-shop girl. Still. The board was comprised of their investors—the reason they had enough cash to do what they did—so he should at least try and sound contrite. “I’m sorry.”
“How sorry?” Something shifted in Zach’s tone.
Scott hesitated; he was about to be manipulated. He might as well get it over with. “Very, very sorry. I know what Cartee has done for us.”
“All right, I’ll accept that. You coming over tonight?”
Scott glanced at the speaker spewing the disembodied voice, concern flooding through him. There was no way the conversation was over that easily. “As long as you’re not cooking.”
“Well, Rae’s not. She’s prepping for a meeting with the board, showing them pretty numbers that remind them we’re not morons.”
Double shit. Scott pulled into the parking garage beneath his building. “Are you done stretching this out yet?”
“Not yet.” Zach’s smirk was almost visible over the phone. “You can sweat a little longer.”
“I’m home. Tell me now, or I’m hanging up and pretending we never had this conversation.” Scott kept his voice even, making sure there was no room to misunderstand his threat.
Zach sighed. “Here’s the deal. You already know no one else is siding with him.”
No one ever sided with Hank’s calls to fire him, so why was Scott’s gut churning?
“But a couple of the other board members are tired of this back and forth between the two of you, so they’ve got a proposal that’s meant to put an end to it.” Zach emphasized the words. “All you have to do is play along, and then they can tell Cartee you’re not a liability, and everyone can move on with their lives.”
Scott’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you over-explaining yourself?”
“We have to bring in someone to fix your public image.”
“What? No.” Scott’s voice rose in volume, irritation searing through him. They wanted to do a publicity makeover on him? “I’m not letting some uptight asshole teach me how to act in public. I left that life behind for a reason. No. Fucking. Way.”
“Listen.” Zach’s voice softened for the first time since he’d called. “I know. I’d say I’m sorry, but you brought this on yourself. You already know this shit, so play nice until it’s over, and we’ll be all right.”
“Whatever.” He had no intention of doing so.
“Promise me you’ll at least pretend you’re going along with this for whomever we hire.” A hint of pleading wove into Zach’s voice.
“Yeah, I promise.” Scott disconnected the call without further formality. He slammed the side of his fist against the steering wheel, biting back a scream of frustration. The one thing in the entire world that could send his aggravation soaring was someone telling him how to