she were the most fascinating woman on the planet. Her head was inclined in a question. His hand rested suggestively on hers. It wasn’t a kiss. It wasn’t a sex tape. But the intimacy I saw in that photo cut me to the quick. The next was worse. Derek holding Lita’s hand at his tie, looking smoldery.
I was going to be sick. I just wasn’t sure from which end.
Tight-lipped, Jane shuffled that printout to the bottom and tapped the next. It was a collection of headlines.
College classmates recall Stanton’s hard-partying ways that cost a friend his life.
Cristal Crisis: Beleaguered heiress’s drunken college nights end in wrongful death.
Is the CEO under the influence behind the wheel? Stanton connected to fatal accident.
There was another picture. This one from my twenty-first birthday. I was passed out on my bed in my apartment. My dress, a gold, flashy one Lita had picked for me, was hiked up around my hips showing off ripped stockings and red underwear. I was clutching an empty bottle of Cristal.
I remembered the circumstances vividly. You need to get out of the lab once in a while before you turn into one of the rats. It’s your birthday. This should be the greatest night of your life.
It hadn’t been. In fact, it very nearly turned out to be the worst.
“Emily, the board is in agreement,” my father said gruffly.
My heart rate ticked higher. Abdominal cramps turned my insides into a twisted mess. “In agreement about what?” I asked through gritted teeth. I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. I shuffled the papers to look at Derek and Lita again. Intimate. Intimate. Intimate. That wasn’t a casual lunch between business associates.
“They want your resignation by nine a.m. tomorrow.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I exploded.
“Look, kid, you had a good run. You made a lot of money. But you can’t keep fucking up like this. If you want that IPO to go through, if you want job security for all those employees of yours, the board needs your head on a platter.”
I was seething.
“Fuck. That.”
“So you won’t be CEO, big deal. They can’t take your shares from you. You’ll still make money as a shareholder.”
“It’s not about the money!”
“No need to scream. I can hear you just fine, slugger. Ah, Jesus H. Christ. Your mother’s calling me again. Nine a.m. tomorrow. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
He disconnected, leaving me shaking with rage.
“How bad?” Jane asked. “Road-side tacos with a side of salmonella bad?”
I shook my head as my stomach lurched. “No food could ever fix this.” I whispered it so I wouldn’t shout.
My cell phone rang again. Derek.
I stabbed Ignore.
It immediately began ringing again. I picked the phone up and hurled it across the room. It bounced off the wall and splintered on the floor.
Everyone froze.
Implacable Jane pulled a piece of gum from her pants pocket and unwrapped it. My assistants stood, mouths agape, in the doorway.
Lona, because of course a journalist was here to witness my humiliating demise, stood silently behind them.
“I got Jenny,” Easton said. “She’s on her way over.”
“I’ve got an address for Nina,” Valerie said, her gaze sliding to the corpse of my phone and the dent in the drywall. I could practically hear her add “call maintenance” to her to-do list.
“I’ll go,” Jane decided, shooting me a look that said clearly I couldn’t be trusted.
“Call Lita and ask her to come back, will you, Valerie?” I asked calmly.
“Absolutely.” Her head bobbed on her neck.
“Can we do anything else?” Easton asked, his voice barely a squeak.
“Get me a copy of my contract,” I said and headed to the bathroom.
Executives at the French cosmetic company weighed in on the shocking results of competitor Flawless’ new scar treatment. “It’s unfortunate that Ms. Stanton and Flawless rushed their product into testing. We at La Sophia believe that there is nothing more precious than your skin and treat our product testing accordingly. We’ve been working on a special formula that shows great promise and will bring it to market this fall…”
43
Derek
“Emily Stanton’s 21st birthday ended with one dead”
“Billionaire CEO under fire for past indiscretions”
“Is this the end of Flawless’s IPO and CEO?”
“We’re under attack,” Rowena said, her lips clamped around the stick of a lollypop she’d chewed to pieces an hour ago. “These stories are everywhere.”
“Goddammit, I want to talk to your city editor now,” I snapped into my cell phone at the unsympathetic customer service rep. I wrestled my tie open. “Then tell him