I read over all the accusations again, the full report, and I don’t know what to say because, number one, this is spot on forJefferson, and number two, I don’t feel comfortable being the person who has to smooth this over, especially if it’s true.
I take a deep breath and start doing what I’m paid to do.
Keep it clean. Keep it neutral. Keep it controlled.
Don’t think about lunch.
Don’t think about him.
I print out both of the statements I’ve created and walk them to Jacquetta’s office.
Edie stops me. “Hey girl, you good?”
I huff out a breath, wave the papers in my hand, and tell her, “Lunch was interesting.”
She pauses, eyebrows lifting like she wants more.
My phone stays quiet in my pocket.
Then hers buzzes.
She glances down, gives me a look, and scurries off.
“I have two choices for statements,” I tell Jacquetta, placing them on her desk.
My phone buzzes, and my heart leaps.
But when I pull it out of my pocket, it’s Jacquetta emailing me about the statement. I’m standing right in front of her, waving the papers in my hand.
“Hey,” I say, lifting them. “I’ve got them right here.”
She looks up, frazzled. Her wig is crooked, and she just doesn’t look like she has it together.
“Oh, I didn’t even see you there.”
Story of my life.
I hand her the papers and glance around her office while she reads.
I see it now.
It plays over and over in my head.
I didn’t even look at him. Didn’t check his face to see if he meant it.
“I like the first one,” Jacquetta says, shoving them back at me. “Go ahead and get it released. We’ve got to get a lid on this quickly before too many big outlets get it and take this out of our control.”
I nod and head back to my desk. I already knew she’d pick the first one. I had it queued up and ready. I click send and sit there for a second, letting out a breath.
Javonte comes to mind again while I’m trying to revise a statement that has already been revised three times.
He should have known then.
That thought is unfair and true enough to distract me. I reach for my phone, hoping Porsche or Charisse answered my message about dinner.
Nothing.
I stare at the screen for a second longer than I need to, then set it back down and force myself back into work. Emails need answers. Follow-ups need to go out. The last few pieces of the crisis need to sound calm, official, and manageable. By the end of the day, everything settles quicker than expected because we’re good at this. One of the best teams in town, unfortunately.
