I take another obnoxious bite of my apple and shrug. “People aren’t dumb, Ash. They’re going to call it like they see it.Celebrities in deep shit are going to wear a temporary halo and write hefty checks and kiss babies if it makes them look good. We didn’t invent the wheel.”
He rubs a hand down his face. “Then you need to be more believable. The pictures you posted to your social media got a lot of engagement, but you aren’t filtering out the comments that are shifting the bigger picture.”
Of course I’m not. “Everybody is going to have an opinion. Isn’t it you who said no press is bad press?”
Ashton mumbles, “Fuck me,” under his breath as he closes his eyes. “Usually, yes. But we both know the press surrounding you is usually not the good kind. It would be helpful if you deleted some of the comments since you refuse to let anyone take over your accounts to do that for you.”
It’ll be a cold day in hell before anybody touches my socials. “The second those negative comments go away, I’m going to be called out for getting rid of them. Then it’ll be less about all the good I did dumping soup into bowls and more about how I’m censoring the public’s opinion of me.”
He’s quiet. There’s no point in arguing because we both know there’s a lot of truth to the statement. Not everybody is going to be happy with the work I’m doing. It’s impossible to please a majority of the public, so why bother?
“The general consensus is positive, right?” I question, wiping my mouth when apple juice drips down the side.
He passes me a napkin with a sigh. “I suppose. Yes.”
“Good. Let’s focus on that then.”
My manager rubs his lips together, which means he has more to say. Go figure. “Did you have to post the picture withherin it?”
There’s only one person he could be referring to, but I play dumb. I toss the apple core into the garbage. “You’ll have to be more specific. I worked with plenty of women that day. Bevwas a real spitfire. You would have liked her if you showed up. Remind me again why you bailed at the last minute?”
His glare is back because he obviously doesn’t want to talk about the woman in charge of Our Open Table or why he decided not to attend despite being so concerned about where I stick my dick. “You know damn well I’m talking about Winter Bronte. Out of all the photos that were taken, why did you have to include one with her beside you in your carousel post?”
He acts like I posted one staring at her tits. “I posted all of the ones you and the team deemed appropriate and tagged the necessary people. Why are you bitching if I added one more?”
It’s clear that Our Open Table means a lot to her. I haven’t figured out why, but she definitely has a personal connection to Vinnie and Bev. They were too familiar for her not to be invested. All the questions they asked her made them seem close. Familial.
Since we tagged their organization, I wanted to make sure Winter was acknowledged for everything she did that day. I’m sure it’d come as a surprise to Ashton, but I didn’t do it solely to piss him off.
“Tom, you can’t be posting images with her. This is the one and only time,” he informs me with an expression that seems both concerned and irritated.
What is his deal? He’s always touchy when it comes to her. For someone who was on my ass about behaving at the event, he made up some lame excuse about checking in on other clients not to come.
“If you post more of the two of you together at these events, it’ll form a pattern that people will put together,” he informs me. “Then forget about the censorship angle. People will only be talking about you with yet another girl. Do you want her to look like a notch on your belt? Is that the reputation you want to leave her with?”
He has a point. “Are you going to tell me how you know her? Because this seems deeper than concerning yourself with my playboy image.”
“No,” he answers with no hesitation, the vein on his forehead pulsing. “Next order of my business.”
I groan because I don’t want to talk about business. I want to get to the bottom of what he’s clearly holding back.
He ignores me. “I had a call with Janel and Scott today about your Furrever Home visit and suggested Winter sit this one out.”
My shoulders square. “You don’t have a right to tell her not to be there when she’s the one who organized it.”
“This is exactly why I don’t want her there,” he says, gesturing to my clenched fists. “I don’t know what your obsession is, but I don’t like it. You need to focus on your career, not getting your dick wet. If she winds up being in more photos with you, it’s going to be a bigger problem than it needs to be. Not only for you, but for her. Do you want that lifestyle for her? For her to be mocked and judged?”
“Of course I don’t,” I spit at him. “I don’t want anybody to be part of that. But do you really think it’s fair to make her sit out eventssheplanned?”
“She’s still getting paid,” is his response. “It isn’t like she’s not getting the credit for setting this all up. Her boss understands where I’m coming from and wants to protect her too.”
Why didn’t he confrontmeabout this? “You didn’t even ask me first.Ipayyou. And it’s my money on the checks to the PR company, is it not? You had no right going to Janel and asking her to take Winter off the project.”
“For Christ’s sake.” He groans, swiping a hand down his tired face. “It’s forone event. Maybe two. I didn’t ask to have her removed altogether, so don’t get your goddamn panties ina bunch before I change my mind. Why are you so worked up about this?”
“Because you didn’t run it by me first.”
“I didn’t think I had to!” he blasts back. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to ask you this once, and you’re going to be honest with me, no matter how much I don’t want to hear it. Did you fuck her?”
