Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“An hour,” she demanded.
“Fine. Take it down now. Write up your retraction within the hour, and you have a deal.”
“Done. Nice doing business with you, Mrs. Hutch.”
“And for the record, Mandy, it’s English.”
Then I hung up on the bitch and flopped back onto my bed. Never mind. I wasn’t going anywhere near Court Kensington until this was taken care of. His mother would kill me if she thought that any of what had been written was true. She almost hadn’t hired me because I was pretty. She’d worried I was Court’s type and that he’d charm me. Fuck everything for her being right.
I was going to have to tell Leslie. That was the only way to make this blow over. She couldn’t hear it from the tabloids. I immediately texted the mayor’s assistant to make the appointment.
And all this time… Josh texted me and called me and left voicemails.
On the fifth call, I picked up the phone.
“What do you want?” I demanded in frustration. “I’m trying to work here.”
“Finally, you answered,” Josh said on a sigh.
“Yes, but I don’t want to talk to you. I already told you all I had to say.”
“So, you call me to tell me you want a divorce and then get back at me by sleeping with someone else and expect me not to want to talk to you?”
“I really don’t care, Josh.”
“So, you did sleep with him.”
I breathed out through my nose. I was not going to talk to my husband about this. He had no reason to know that I’d slept with Court. I had no intention of discussing the best night of sex in my life with him.
“He’s a client,” I bit out.
“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be the first publicist to sleep with a client.”
“I have rules, Josh.”
“Never stopped anyone else.”
“Thanks for reminding me that you fucked Celeste. This conversation is over. I have more important things to deal with today.”
“Look, I get it. You found out about me and Celeste. You were mad. I know how you are, English. Your temper runs hot as fire. It ignites like an explosion and ricochets in every direction. You were mad at me and then did something drastic to get back at me. I don’t blame you.”
I did have a hot temper. I’d gotten it from my dad. Unfortunately. But I didn’t want to let him know he was right.
“Josh, he is a client.”
“I don’t believe that you didn’t sleep with him, English. I know you too well.”
“Well, I’d love to listen to your guilty conscience all day, but I have things to do.”
“Let’s just move past this. You got back at me for Celeste. And now, we’re even. You got it out of your system. So, now, we can move on.”
“Move on?” I asked, cold and hard. “You fucked your costar behind my back. The only thing I’m moving on from is you.”
Then I hung up the phone and fell back onto my bed again. I’d have to get up in a few minutes to prepare for my meeting with the mayor, but right now, I needed the time to wallow. Because as mad as I was with Josh, I still loved him. Or at least the man he’d been and the relationship we’d had. I was going to need more time to grieve this before I could think of being okay.
* * *
My meeting with the mayor went about as well as expected. She worried that my breakup with Josh would hurt the campaign. Lark had reassured her that it wouldn’t. But I wasn’t so sure. I’d told her that I was fine and still on my game, but I knew that I wasn’t. I needed more time. And we didn’t have time.
At least the meeting had been productive, and I’d figured out the next steps with her regarding Court’s publicity, going into the primary. Which meant I had a list of events he could attend and the one mandatory victory party. From what I’d grasped, his mom didn’t want the reminder of his arrest at the primary events. So, it might even be better for him not to attend. And just to keep him out of trouble until the party.
I steeled myself and texted Court. It was the first communication we’d had since I left his apartment.
Here’s the list of events your mother is attending. She wants you to keep your head down and try not to get any more media attention. But she would like you at the victory party. If you haven’t seen the tabloids, our picture from that pap was in it. I’m handling it.
I sent it off with the list from his mom and then headed back uptown to start digging into what I could do to help make him more of the golden boy of the Upper East Side. Maybe I should brainstorm it with Winnie. She might have other ideas.