Luke cusses next to me. A whole string of words that would never be allowed at Harrow & Finch.
I don’t know what to think or say right now. I might be in shock.
It’s a solid angle, honestly. Not true—it would be impossible to pull off a stunt like that—but it lines up just enough to look real. And once people decide something looks real, it doesn’t matter what the truth is.
This is so bad.
Chapter 22
PR Tip #68:The only thing worse than a problem is a problem you didn’t see coming.
Iknew the video from You Oughta Know wouldn’t die, but that didn’t stop me from hoping.
Unfortunately, hope wasn’t enough. The video is viral, the online narrative changing right before our eyes from happiness and hopefulness about a reconciliation between Bailey and River to the idea that this was all a PR setup.
It’s on every platform, and it’s hit every entertainment site. Prominent PR influencers, like Molly McPherson, are doing full breakdowns.
It is, in a word, stupid.
There are other words, but I can’t say them right now, not when we’re in the Silverline conference room trying to figure this out.
Luke and I discussed possibilities on the drive here and hit a dead end with every one of them. If we deny it, we look guilty. If we confirm it . . . well, we would never do that. Because it’s not true, and also because it would make things so much worse. And if we ignore it, the narrative will just keep going.
So, in summary, we’re screwed.
The conference room door opens, and Victoria walks in by herself, no Paul trailing in after her. She takes a seat at the head of the table, even though it’s just Luke and me. River and Bailey are filming, but even if they weren’t, I don’t think they’d be part of this.
We met with them earlier. Bailey was anxious and kept saying how unfair it all was. River has been doing the fame thing longer, so his thought was that we should let it lie and it would pass.
That’s always a possibility, but this doesn’t feel like something that will just go away. People don’t like to feel duped. It’s a betrayal of their trust.
The one positive is that they were a united front, sitting together, holding hands while we talked to them. The relationship, it seems, is still hanging in there. It’s only been a few days in the making, but the way they looked at each other—and were each other’ssupport system, backing each other up while we talked—made me want to root for them.
Not to mention, if they broke up now, that would be really bad. It would make this look exactly like what people are accusing us of.
And Luke and I are included in that “us.” Someone took the time to find out who was managing Bailey’s and River’s PR and posted our names and the firms we work for. So that was fun. Luckily, most people don’t care about the people pulling strings—they just care about the people dangling from them.
“Let’s begin,” Victoria says. She puts on her glasses and picks up the piece of paper she brought with her, studying it for a minute before looking at Luke and then at me.
“Well, this is a mess,” she says, not mincing words. Not that I expected her to, because she never has before. “Do we have a plan?”
I look at Luke, my eyes sayingYou tell her.
“We’re working on it,” he says. “We’re not sure of our plan of attack quite yet.”
“We will need something by the end of the day,” she says. “I don’t really care how you fix it. I just want to make sure this doesn’t spiral.”
I want to point out that it’s already spiraling but decide that’s probably not my best move.
“Any questions?” she asks.
Both Luke and I shake our heads.
She gets up from her seat and walks out of the room without even a goodbye, her Louboutins clicking on the floor as she leaves.
“Well, that was fun,” Luke says. He swipes a hand down his face.
“Yes, a really great time,” I say.
