He winces, and the smile falls from his face.
“Okay, this conversation has turned officially weird,” Matt suggests, breaking the awkward tension.
“Excuse me,” I murmur, standing and grabbing my MacBook. It might be completely fucked, but I’m not letting it go. It’s a piece of Grandma.
And as I walk out of the boardroom, I wonder for the first time if I’m actually cut out for this bullshit.
Chapter Five
RYAN
“So, Oliver, how’s the PR coming along?” I ask, my tone laced with sarcasm.
Oliver’s face darkens as he brushes glitter from his desk, his frown hardening. “In all honesty, Ryan? Better than you ever managed. For someone so quick to criticize the band’s budget, you didn’t hesitate to blow cash on a prank that destroyed equipment we actually need. You just ruined a MacBook that doesn’t even belong to you. What the hell were you thinking?”
I lean back, stunned, as the silence thickens. Everyone’s watching, waiting for me to say something, but my mind’s blank.
Finally, I muster a reply, forcing my voice to stay steady. “It was a joke, Oliver. Don’t be so dramatic.”
Oliver’s gaze sharpens, his tone icy. “A joke? At whose expense? You think it’s funny to sabotage someone’s work? It’s one thing to throw a few jabs, but this? This was low, even for you.”
My fists clench involuntarily, heat rising in my chest. “Don’t act like she’s irreplaceable.”
Oliver doesn’t back down, his voice dropping to a steely whisper. “She’s proving to be better at this than you ever were. So maybe it’s not Tillie who’s replaceable doing PR, Ryan.”
His words hit like a slap.
Anger simmers under my skin as I glance around at the shocked expressions.
This isn’t over—not by a long shot.
If Oliver thinks she’s doing better than me, then he’s in for a rude awakening.
This meanswar!
I’m going to prove she’s shit at her job, and I’m going to push her out in the process!
It’s a win-win in my eyes.
I will devise a plan to put Tillie’s skills to the test. It’s low even for me, but I want to see how Tillie handles PR when push comes to shove.
The meeting continues, and all I can think about is how to execute my plan well enough that I get my old job back, and Tillie walking out the damn door.
Once everything wraps up, I walk out and head home for the day.
I step into my room and walk straight to my laptop and start typing up a bunch of information on myself, describing my medical information and spouting crap about how it’s forcing me to leave the band. It’s a complete farce, of course, but with any luck, it will be effective, so I take my time to dot the I’s and cross the T’s, maintaining as much accuracy as possible.
With the last touches complete, I send the file to a reporter anonymously.
I know this is low, but let’s see how Tillie handles PR when it’sreallyhard to deal with.
***
On the drive to the office the next day, I’m grinning all the way. My smile is so big, my cheeks hurt. I know I am being childish, but they don’t call me the prankster for nothing.
By now, Tillie should be in full breakdown mode, and it sends a surge of warmth through me. I can’t help but think they should have never undermined me. This undoubtedly will be what finally gives her the push-out she deserves.
A certain amount of shit will have hit the proverbial fan by now, and I’d like to think she’s left the building already, notknowing how to handle this shitstorm I’ve created. But as I pull up to the office, the media are all pulling away.
