Page 103 of Never To Be Mine

“I was actually excited for the B Well burger but if HE won’t eat it, I’m not touching it”

“Red meat for the win”

“What the hell?” My brain stuttered. My thoughts struggled to catch up. I’d gone from blissful sleep to an apocalypse.

I scrolled further, finding more posts, more videos, more commentary. Someone had screenshotted our press release announcing the burger partnership and put it side by side with the video of Hollis eating at Curly’s. The timing couldn’t have been worse. The press release had gone out just hours before this video was taken of Hollis eating one of the unhealthiest burgers in the country.

Burgergate was trending on Twitter.

I felt like I was going to be sick. I called Hollis immediately. It went straight to voicemail. Of course it did. He was on his run, working off that Curly burger. Probably with his phone on Do Not Disturb like he always did when he exercised.

I tried again. Voicemail.

“Hollis, call me the second you get this. Your fans are turning on you.”

I took a two-minute shower, grabbed my makeup bag, and tossed it in my purse. I dressed like the world was ending. It was. Mine certainly was. I grabbed my keys and my phone and was out the door in under fifteen minutes.

The drive to the office felt like it took forever. I hated traffic. My mind was racing through every possible worst-case scenario. Our brand reputation was already fragile after the rat piss incident. We’d just started to recover. And now this.

People were going to think the burger was terrible. They were going to think Hollis didn’t believe in his own product. They were going to think Young at Heart had backed the wrong horse.

The burger was actually amazing. I had been skeptical, but he made me a believer. If people dismissed it before we even released it, though, no one would taste how good it was. We’d be dead in the water and our company had already invested a lot of money to get this project moving fast.

I parked in the garage and practically ran to the elevator. My father had texted me while I was driving. He was not happy. Understatement of the century.

I rushed into the office. Kari handed me a coffee. “He’s in his office.”

She took my purse and briefcase while I headed straight there. I found my father pacing in front of the windows, his phone pressed to his ear. He looked like he’d aged ten years overnight. His hair was disheveled and his shirt was wrinkled like he’d slept in it.

He saw me and held up one finger, wrapping up whatever call he was on.

“I understand. Yes. We’ll issue a statement. Thank you.” He hung up and turned to me. “Have you talked to him?”

“He’s not answering. He went for a run.”

“Of course he did.” Dad rubbed his face with both hands. “Do you have any idea what this is doing to us right now? The phone has been ringing off the hook. Retailers are calling asking if the partnership is still happening. Food bloggers are having a field day. Our PR team is in full crisis mode.”

“I know. I saw.”

“Did you know he was going to do this?”

“What? No!” I felt defensive on Hollis’s behalf even though I was furious with him. He knew very well the public paid attention to what he ate. The Curly burger was a rookie mistake. “He wouldn’t do this on purpose. It makes him look bad too.”

“Then what was he thinking?” Dad’s voice rose slightly, frustration bleeding through. “We announced the partnership. The press release went out. Everyone knows we’re launching a plant-based burger. And he celebrates by eating that cholesterol bomb. What kind of message does that send?”

I didn’t have an answer. I couldn’t defend it because I didn’t understand it either.

My phone buzzed. I looked down, hoping it was Hollis.

It was Kari: Media requests are flooding in. What do I tell them?

I showed my father the message.

“Tell her to hold all media requests until we figure out how to respond.” He started pacing again. “We need to control this narrative before it spins completely out of our control. If it hasn’t already.”

I called Hollis again. Still voicemail.

“He’s going to call me back,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “He’ll help us figure out how to respond.”