“I hate you.”
“Feeling is mutual.”
She seems to let go of wanting to know the details, and I’m thankful.
The slight lightness in our conversation is momentary. The beige, bland walls close in on me, and I’m suddenly dying to leave this room. The weight of Rome’s lawsuit is tearing me up and I’m starting to not recognize myself. My life is measured, tucked, and folded neatly into a box. I’m not a celebrity in thesense of an acting or music career, but I am a well-known face in this city. The face of a magazine willing to dig deep and write about a multitude of topics which matter to people.
A stack of metal chairs is pushed against the far wall, but my mind wanders to the one person I truly came here to see. Instead of these stupid fucking chairs, I wish I was looking at a head of blonde hair, green eyes, and a body of full hips instead.
“But… wait,” Julianna blurts, tearing me from the thoughts of her best friend. “Your magazine is sponsoring this auction, Holt. If this gets out, your reputation will be ruined, along with mine.”
“The auction is the perfect diversion actually,” Treena cuts in. “You need to do whatever it takes to preserve your reputation, Mr. Capuleti. Once this news hits, and it will, it will be rough. You need a distraction.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call this auction a distraction. The magazine is just a sponsor,” I argue.
“We’ll figure it out.” Julianna shrugs a shoulder.
“Just be present tonight,” Treena encourages me. “We’ll work on damage control later. Honestly, I’m surprised we’ve kept this lawsuit quiet for this long.”
“Rome won’t keep his mouth shut for long,” Julianna practically growls. “The man loves to hear himself talk too much.”
“Actually,” Vanessa announces, holding her phone up to the three of us. “Seems we’ve manifested his big mouth already.”
I lean forward, reading the headline to the article she has pulled up.
Venture Mogul Rome Montgomery sues Scribe Magazine and its CEO Holt Capuleti for defamation in new major lawsuit.
The article was posted ten minutes ago.
“Well, shitballs!” Julianna hisses. “Here we go. Terrible timing when this auction is set to start in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll read over this article and see what the public knows.” Vanessa tucks her phone into the front pocket of her briefcase. “I doubt it’ll effect tonight’s auction since it’s for various charities. You may be the number one topic for gossip, but it’ll all be in secret.”
“Great.” I sneer. “Because it’s better to have those talking behind your back instead of out in the open.”
“Everything will be fine, Mr. Capuleti,” Treena tries to reassure me. “Just go about your night as usual. Lay low and try not to get dragged into the spotlight. We’ll get this sorted and reconvene on Monday.”
“That’ll be difficult.” Julianna snorts.
Treena turns in her direction. “What do you mean?”
Julianna glowers at her. “You’re my brother’s publicist, but you don’t know he’s supposed to be bidding tonight?”
Treena snaps her mouth shut and inhales a long breath through her nose.
“What sort of auction is this?” Vanessa asks, stepping closer into our circle.
“Scribe and a few other organizations are sponsoring it, but it’s an auction to raise money for children’s research hospitals throughout the five boroughs and Jersey. The way I organized tonight’s auction was meant to draw in a large crowd, and when I say large, what I mean ismassive.”
“What’s so different about this auction that has it drawing such a large crowd?” Vanessa’s penciled brows pull together.
Julianna’s expression transforms. She’s practically bursting with excitement, proud of herself. “We’re auctioning off dates.”
“Dates?” Vanessa’s eyebrows unravel, rising across her forehead.
“Yeah.” Julianna shrugs, turning her hand over and inspecting her nails as though Vanessa’s questions are boring her, but I recognize it as her defense mechanism whenever shefeels someone judging her. “Both women and men volunteer themselves, some models, and local celebrities for a night out with the highest bidder. There’s no pressure for them to follow through on the date, and those bidding know that.”
“Well, it’s solved, then!” Treena blurts out. “Holt just won’t place any bids.”
