Something in my chest eases a wee bit.
‘Theo’s my assistant and our social media manager,’ Charlie explains. ‘She’ll be handling your public rehabilitation.’
I’d let her handle plenty of things – if this were a different week, in a different life.
What? Calm doon, cowboy.
‘Lucky her.’
Theo sits down next to me and crosses her legs. ‘Let’s be clear. I can help manage how the world sees you, but I can’t change who you are. That part’s on you.’
‘Do you think I have to change who I am?’
‘Do you think you have to?’ She lifts a brow and slides a document toward me. ‘This is your new schedule. Media blackout until I say otherwise, I’ll handle your socials. Everything goes through me. Daily check-ins. We start tomorrow.’
Her gaze holds mine. Bright, unflinching, and too damn blue, measuring the gap between what I say and what I mean.
Charlie’s phone lights up. She frowns, checks the screen, and stands. ‘Give me a minute’, she says, halfway to the door.
Theo glances after her, unreadable.
Family call? Feels like it. Or maybe she needed a break from me. Wouldn’t blame her. Charlie’s heels click away, and suddenly it’s just me and the woman who’s going to hold me hostage for the foreseeable future. The silence stretches thin as I count the bricks in the wall.
‘So,’ I say and stretch lazily, ‘your name is Theo. Isn’t that…a boy’s name?’
‘So, you slept with two women at the same time. Isn’t that overcompensating?’ Her voice is calm but cuts like a blade. ‘Do you even understand the fallout of what you’ve done?’
I summon my practised smile. ‘Gave two ladies a good time?’
Her cheeks light up with anger. It looks surprisingly cute.
‘You’ve put this entire agency at risk. Charlie built this from nothing after her fiancé cheated on her and her own father took his side. And you—’ She stops and inhales sharply through her nose. ‘Your behaviour wasn’t just reckless. It was selfish and childish!’
Air stalls behind my collarbone, and the words almost get stuck halfway up. ‘I agree. And I’m sorry.’
‘Do you? And are you? Because this isn’t only about you. It’s about Charlie. About every person who works here. Every client whose reputation gets tarnished by association. Not to mention your team.’
‘I said I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, I heard you. But honestly? You don’t get to feel a bit sorry when other people are mopping up your mess.’ She taps her pen against the paper, a rapid staccato. ‘The Rebels might drop you. Did that occur to you?’
It has. Every waking minute since I sobered up. ‘They won’t, probably. They need me to play. I need to play.’
Her eyes stop flaring long enough to ask a question. ‘Why weren’t you answering any calls?’
My father’s coffin flashes through my mind. What should I say? Because of the man who left me as a child and died in prison and whose funeral I’m now skipping. Saying that would sound like an excuse, and it’s not.
‘Forgot my charger, and my phone died.’ Lie, obviously. Truth’s heavier than that.
‘For over a week?’
‘I was busy.’
She gives me a once-over. ‘Clearly.’
I lean towards her. ‘Look, I was pished, awright? Fucking gone. First time in over a year, so excuse me if I couldn’t handle the booze and lost the plot.’
‘Why did you drink so much then?’
