He . . . what? I don’t understand.
“But then she told me she would go wherever I went.”
I look to the side, memories flashing through my mind of working with Ella Abbott—how she always wanted Luke to take her calls and would ask about him if he wasn’t around. When he was there, she’d ignore me completely.
So, wait . . . everything I thought was . . . wrong?
I’m not sure I believe it. I need some time to process. I feel like I should say something, explain what I was thinking, how it all looked from my point of view. But Luke isn’t stupid. He knows. He wouldn’t have bothered to explain if he didn’t.
He nudges me with his shoulder. “See if anyone’s responded yet.”
Chapter 16
PR Tip #67:The public can smell a performance from a mile away. Authenticity is the only currency that matters.
Sometime around eleven thirty we got the final approval for the statement, and then I quickly sent it to Silverline’s communications team for them to release, since that was part of the requirement per Victoria.
When I woke up this morning, it was already picking up momentum after being shared by bothPeople(for fans) and Deadline (for the industry).
“What happens next?” Sam asks once I catch her up on the situation with the statement.
We’re standing in the kitchen while we wait for the coffee Sam is brewing, we’re both in PJs, hair in messy high ponytails, and I’m sure I look like I’ve been run over by something, because that’s what I feel like.
Yesterday seemed like an entire week.
“Now, we wait,” I say. “And maybe pray it works.” Sam presses her hands together and whispers a quick one.
Tessa has already flagged a few unhappy posts, but that’s expected. The first people to respond are always the ones posting their feelings, not their well-articulated thoughts.
Sam grabs two mugs from the cabinet and places them on the counter.
“So, you and Luke looked pretty cozy on the couch last night,” she says, tilting her head, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
I knew when she saw us sitting there after she made it home from work that she would say something. Thank goodness she waited until this morning.
I pull my lips taut. “We were working on my laptop,” I tell her.
“So close, though?”
“It’s a small screen.”
She lifts one shoulder. “I’m just saying it looked pretty cozy to me.”
“There’s nothing to read into.”
“Too late.” She gives me a full grin now. “It’s quite the one-eighty, though. Aren’t you supposed to hate Luke?”
“I do,” I say, even though after last night, I feel . . . different.
It was hard to fall asleep after he left. I was worried about the statement, of course. But also, his words kept replaying in my head. I’m having a hard time believing his version of the story after holding on to mine for so long.
I nibble on a thumbnail, debating telling Sam what he said, but then I give in.
“I had things wrong about him,” I tell her.
She scrunches her nose. “About what?”
“About why he left,” I say. “He took the job with Pulse because he was sure I was going to get the promotion.”
