“Not well,” Mal said simply.
Renata swallowed, her expression contorting into one of true sorrow. She tapped her fingers against the sleek surface of her desk, then sighed.
“I assumed as much,” she said. “What’s happening is terrible. My team released a statement yesterday, but I fear it may have just fanned the flames more. Unfortunately, we may just have to wait this one out.”
Mal looked at her, stunned, then furious. Anger wasn’t an emotion that came easily to him, but he felt it now, building in his bones so rapidly that he had to set his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. It was the Adelmans’ fault that Jo’s name had been dragged through the mud, and all its matriarch could think of to rectify matters was to wring her hands, have her PR team draft a pithy statement, and wait? They hadn’t been there when Jo locked herself in her room. When she’d been so terrified of her phone that she had to throw it in her closet just to keep from having her internal thoughts about her own worthlessness echoed by legions of strangers online. Even with all of their means, they’d done the bare fucking minimum. No wonder Jo had trouble depending on others. If this was the family she’d chosen, she had no reason to trust that her best interests would ever be met.
“Your husband gets involved in a scandal every other week, and that manages to get cleaned up pretty quick,” he said.
Renata’s blue eyes iced over like Lake Michigan in the dead of winter.
“What are you implying?” she said.
“I’m just wondering how much of what they’re saying in these articles is true,” Mal said. “About your family only bringing Jo close as a cover for your husband beating on a Black man. About youusingher. Because it seems really convenient that you were able to cover up something like that, but thatthis”—he spun the globe on her desk—“is out of your hands.”
Renata sat back in her chair, her expression suddenly blank. She folded her arms across her chest.
“She hasn’t told you,” she said.
“Hasn’t told me what?” Mal asked.
Renata took a swig from her bottle like it was hard liquor.
“You’re a creative, with a vast imagination,” Renata said. “I won’t keep you from thinking whatever you want. But be assured in one thing: I love that girl like she’s my own. If there was anything more I could do, I would do it. But there are many things money can’t buy, and the silence of millions is one of them.”
Her refusal resonated like a slammed door. Mal gritted his teeth. He wanted to fight her harder, but he realized that they’d reached an impasse.
“Now, on the topic of our business together,” Renata continued. “I understand your concerns about continuing to work with En Garde. But I would like to give you some unsolicited advice.” She paused, but not long enough to give him time to interject. “Be choosy about when you let your personal life interfere with your business. En Garde has full intentions to bringDuskto the screen within the next year. You’ll make a million dollars when we do. If your goal is to be the best partner possible for Josephine, it might do you well to have that money in hand. So why don’t you sleep on this for a few days and reach out to me again if you still think it best that we part ways.”
“I’m good,” Mal said.
Renata raised both eyebrows. “Mr.Waters,” she said. “Do you understand what you’re doing?”
“You said it yourself. You’re a small production company, just starting out. One of your jobs is to shape perception of my project. If you’re telling me you can’t influence a little controversy, maybe you can’t manage my work as well as you think.” Renata stiffened, her smile a stricture on her face, but he continued. “I’ve already told my agent. You just need to get your assistant to send me the bank info, and I’ll return the option money.”
His piece said, Mal stood, smoothed his hands down his pants, and made for the door.
“Malcolm?” Renata called, when he had nearly reached it. Mal turned, looking back at her.
“Thank you for looking after Josephine,” she said. “Seriously. I’ll admit, when I first heard you were together, I worried that she might need someone a bit more... ferocious by her side.” She smiled, as if fully aware that her compliment was backhanded. “But now I see that you are more than up to the task.”
Mal nodded, then threw the door open.
“You here about Jo?”
It shouldn’t have surprised him, that Ezra Adelman was leaning against the wall across from his mother’s office. If he were in Ezra’s shoes, he would be stalking him too.
Except maybe he wouldn’t. Except, if he had Ezra’s power, a meeting like this wouldn’t be necessary, because he would have already put the rumors to rest.
To his credit, Ezra looked like shit. Unlike his mother, who seemed to be made of marble, his skin was wan and slack, his normally artfully rumpled hair unkempt. Mal would have felt sorrier for him if he hadn’t been paying attention to the headlines. For all intents and purposes, Jo’s downfall had been great for Ezra’s image. He’d fallen for a relatively ordinary woman, his best friend even, only to have his heart dashed into the dirt. It was the perfect scenario for a romantic male lead, the tragically handsome aristocrat awaiting comfort from a woman who could heal his wounds.
“I can’t reach her,” Ezra said. “I was an ass to her after the hospital. Messed everything up.” He gave Mal a beseeching look, and he realized that despite his assumptions, Ezra wasn’t here to pick a fight. “Can you tell her I’m sorry?”
Mal stared Ezra down, unmoved. After she’d told him about Ezra’s confession, Jo had informed him of how he’d reacted to her rejection by blocking her number.I know he was hurting, she said.But I really needed him.
“I’m not a messenger pigeon, Adelman,” he said simply, then made for the exit. Ezra shifted to stand in his way, and Mal bristled, resisting the urge to push him aside.
“My mom’s not just bullshitting, you know,” Ezra pleaded. “We’ve thrown money where we can. Talked to our lawyers, put out statements. I don’t know what else there is to do.”
