“You’ve done amazing work for DRM,” he says, cutting me off. “That’s not the issue.”
I frown. “Then what is it?”
“I’ll just give it to you straight, Luka. Our first quarter P&L was ugly, and this quarter looks worse. We’re in the red. I’ve been paying employee salaries out of my own pocket.”
“What?” I sputter.
“I’m trying to tell you, the business isn’t sustainable,” Stefan goes on. “If the company can’t improve its reputation—and fast—we’re going to sink.”
I let out a breath, my mind blown. This job was supposed to be the start of my new life. A chance to finally prove myself. And now it’s all about to crumble.
Finally, I say, “How do we keep Danica Rose from shutting down?”
By now, Stefan has calmed himself. He’s back in his chair with Tori holding his hand.
“It’s going to take a huge act of goodwill to convince the public we’re not monsters,” he muses. “We can’t erase the past.”
It’s no secret that the reason the press and social media have condemned us is because of what our father did. I’ve done my best to combat that, but even with all my schmoozing and my fancy MBA, rescuing a business from a major public downfall is a huge mountain to climb—and I’m still learning as I go. I’d never been involved in running the agency like Stefan was.
But after Dad’s arrest, I told my brother I was committed to the family business. Since then, Stefan has made it clear that co-CEO is in my future if I roll up my sleeves and work hard, quit drinking, and stop fucking around. So that’s what I’ve done. Apparently, it wasn’t enough.
“So what’s our move?” I ask. My coffee tastes bitter now. It’s growing cool in my cup.
“We’re going to take control of the narrative,” Tori says confidently.
“Control the narrative,” I repeat, nodding. “Okay. So we give the media a new story to chew on. Something to redirect their attention and make us look human again. I’m all in.”
“We’re so glad to hear that,” Tori says, giving me an encouraging smile.
Like I said, I wasn’t so sure about her when she’d first come into my older brother’s life via arranged marriage. Who even did that kind of thing anymore? I almost shudder.
Admittedly, though, it seems to be working for him. He’s changed, and I can’t even say anything bad about it. Tori has made him a more level-headed, calmer version of himself. Still, there’s no way in hell you’d catch me shacking up with an arranged wife. Or any wife, for that matter. I enjoy a variety of pussy too much to settle down.
“Okay. A new story. Let me think.” I spread my hands. “How about a few social media ads with our models, talking about how we launched their careers? Maybe I can organize a photo shoot with some of our new diverse models cuddling pets from the local animal shelter. Everyone loves puppies. Or get our employees to do some publicized community service?”
Stefan shakes his head. “No. We need to focus onyou.”
“Me? Why?”
He glances at Tori, and she sets her cup down and clasps her hands.
“It isn’t just the agency’s reputation that’s the problem…” She offers a gentle smile. “It’s yours. The media’s been crucifying you lately—”
“They’re assholes,” I can’t help myself from interjecting. “I can’t walk out the door without a camera in my face, and half the time they’re slapping made-up headlines over photos of me getting blackout drunk from a year ago—”
“They hate you,” Stefan agrees. “We’ve all done our best to rebrand, but you seem hell-bent on keeping the Zoric image in the gutter.”
“That’s not fair.” I lean forward, my anger rising. “I can’t be the only twenty-five-year-old who likes to visit the occasional strip club on the weekends or bring a couple women home from the club to f—” Stefan clears his throat. “To entertain,” I finish.
“But you’re the only one who works for a company formerly run by a sex trafficker. And it’s public knowledge that you slept with half the models. It’s not a good look,” he points out harshly. “The last headline I saw called you a sex- and money-hungry monster, following in the footsteps of the fallen Zoric patriarch—”
“So what, then? Are you trying to fire me?” I say, tapping my finger impatiently against my coffee cup. “Look, I do what I want. The media doesn’t like it? That’s their problem.”
Stefan practically jumps to his feet. “It’s not, though, Luka. It’sour problem.”
There’s nothing I can say because I know he’s right. I throw back the rest of my lukewarm coffee as if it’s the drink I so desperately want right now.
“Luka,” Tori interjects softly. “You’re the most notorious playboy in Chicago.Weknow you’ve changed, but the public needs to see a bigger effort.”
