I sit up straight. I might have watched it with Luc’s sisters, and maybe once or twice more when I was home alone while Luc was at practice. “I’m putting in a heavy suggestion for our Halloween costumes next year,” I say.
Emmy reaches over and pats Blake’s hand as if to say, “It’s okay, I’m here to help.” Blake pulls his hand away and motions for Emmy to zip it.
He clears his throat and continues. “Mr. Howard has some reach, but there isn’t a lot of crossover between your fan base and his. The main issue is that he’s been known to feed hacked information to certain politicians, which is what is exacerbating the current issue.”
Laura, one of our PR managers, speaks up. “What we need to decide is if pursuing charges and going public is in your best interest, or specifically, the best interest of your friend. From what we’ve discussed, there could be more in the material hacked from your phone that could lead to identification.”
I nod. “Mr. Martín is comfortable with everyone in this room knowing his identity. Most of you know already, but I want it to be known that his privacy and protection are my top priorities. I don’t care what this Howard jerk says about me.”
“Dude, did you see this video where he accuses us of drinking the blood of young boys? And apparently you keep women chained as sex slaves in your basement?” Naz laughs.
“I didn’t know you had a basement,” Will says.
“I don’t.”
We’re all laughing, but no one else seems to think it’s very funny.
“There’s also the issue of the security company. Scott was the one to figure this one out,” Blake says, gesturing to Naz’s bodyguard.
Scott stands, since the security detail is sitting in the back of the room. Beside me, Naz noticeably straightens up in his seat but looks away as if he doesn’t notice his bodyguard is speaking. He catches my eye, and I raise an eyebrow, but he shakes me off.
“I noticed something off about one of the hired security walking around backstage at the New Year’s concert, he seemed familiar but wasn’t one of our guys, so I kept a closer eye on him. Later, I pulled him to the side and confirmed he did have a phone on his person.”
“All employees outside the main security team and management are prohibited from carrying phones or any type of recording devices backstage,” Blake explains.
“I’m not even allowed to have one,” Emmy confirms.
“So what happened with the guy?” Naz asks. “Could you confiscate the phone and check to make sure he didn’t record anything? Or how does that work?”
“Legally, the most we can do is ask for the employee to show that no photos were taken or videos were recorded, however we cannot technically search someone’s personal phone without their permission,” one of the legal team answers. “There are clauses in some of our stricter agreements that would legally grant consent for inspection of private property on the premises, but these clauses can be a grey area, and were not part of the contract with this particular security company, as they were hired by the stadium and not through us.”
Scott nods. “I did try to get him to hand over the phone, but he refused, which seemed like a red flag. We got all of his information, blacklisted both the employee and the company from future events, and informed the man, in writing, that any potential leaks would be followed with swift legal action. Afterwards, I did some more digging and confirmed that this same employee was on staff at multiple concerts, all in different cities, hired by the same company.”
Naz groans. “So we’ve had a mole following us around since when?”
“Since the charity concert at least,” Scott confirms.
Wellfuck.
“Luc was at the New Year’s concert,” I groan, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes. “What’s the likelihood this guy is sitting on something that could hurt him?”
“If he didn’t have something, why wouldn’t he hand over the phone as proof?” Naz says.
“But if he did, why haven’t we heard anything? It’s been almost three weeks since the New Year’s Eve show.”
“We threatened legal action against both the individual employee and the company as a whole,” Laura says. “Hopefully that will be enough to dissuade them from leaking anything, and that’s assuming they have something worth leaking.”
“Or they’re shopping around for the right incentive,” Blake says. “There are quite a few people with deep pockets that would be willing to pay a lot of money to watch you break again,” he says, looking at me directly.
My hands clench into tight fists. I want to rage. To scream and throw things and light shit on fire. More than anything, I want to crawl back to Luc on my hands and knees and beg him to run away with me. Because as much as Luc says he’s ready for whatever comes our way, I’m not sure he is.
“We’re going public after the Super Bowl,” I say, as much a reminder to myself as everyone else. “We just need to do whatever it takes to keep this quiet until then. It’s just a couple more weeks.”
“Is there anything we can do to distract the press from Jesse and Luc until after the Super Bowl?” Ari asks.
“I can’t think of anything more interesting, unless anyone else is having an illicit affair,” Laura deadpans. “That’s sarcasm, by the way. We don’t need any more scandals, please.”
The room goes oddly silent. Ari pulls his legs from Will’s lap and reaches for a bottle of water. Naz crosses his arms and huffs indignantly. Even Blake looks uncomfortable. I don’t need a room full of people feeling sorry for me when I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
