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So far, our expansion seems to be intact. I was able to convince our new UAE guys the story is typical U.S. tabloid gossip—all hearsay from a disgruntled former employee trying to make us look bad. Those guys were all too familiar with such matters, and to my pleasant surprise, they were willing to take my word a retraction is in progress.
That just leaves Hastings and Key.
I’m sure Remi is back from Seattle by now, but I can’t tell if the story has legs. It’s possible, if I shut up and leave it alone… and stop calling publishers or punching assholes in the face… it might blow over.
Leaning forward on my desk, I put my face in my hands. I’m tired, and the only thing I can think about is Rocky. Does she know about this? I haven’t heard from her since she walked out.
I sent her one text this week, one night after a few drinks, and she never replied. Lifting my phone, I look at it now. None of this works without you.
Shit, I cringe when I read it sober. I’m never that open with people.
The strange thing is, I want to be that open with her. She made me want things that never appealed to me before. I don’t work without her. I don’t care about any of this. The expansion, proving myself, what good is it if I’m alone?
“Jesus,” I hiss, rubbing my forehead. I’m going to lose my mind if I stay in this office one more minute.
I’m about to walk out when my desk phone buzzes.
I hit the button for Sandra to speak. “Your dad’s on Line 2.”
Of course he is I’ve been waiting for this call all morning. “Thanks.” We disconnect, and I take a beat before hitting the button.
“Patton here.”
“What’s going on down there, son?” The condescending tone in his voice makes my
skin crawl.
“Oh, you know.” I make my voice casual in spite of it. “I had to let Jerry Buckingham go, and he made up a bunch of sh-stuff and told it to the press. Not even the press, it’s that crap NABI posts on the Internet.
“That everybody reads. This is tacky, George. A sex scandal?”
I’m pinching the bridge of my nose and counting to ten. “I’m handling it, dad. I just got off the phone with David. We’re going to get them to post a retraction.”
“Which no one will read. Do you need me to call Hank? He and I go way back.”
“David already called him.” I’m not about to say I called as well. “I appreciate the offer. You don’t have to worry.”
He breathes deeply, letting me hear it on the receiver. “I’ll be keeping an eye on this.”
“I really need to take this call.” It’s a lie. “Take care of yourself, Dad. We’ll talk soon.”
I disconnect before he can get another word in, and I’m out of my chair, out of my door. “I’m walking to get some lunch. Want anything?”
Sandra stands, pulling the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I’ve got to pick up Ralph from the airport. If we’re all done here…” She raises an eyebrow, and I hold up my hands.
“We’re done. Thanks for coming in on a Saturday. I can manage the remaining fires.” I hope.
“Wanted to be sure I had a job to come back to on Monday.”
“Right.” Nice vote of confidence. “Have a good weekend.”
She hesitates at her desk as I keep going. “You know I remember how Marley was with that girl… Renée.” This makes me pause to hear her out. “It was the one time I thought he might be okay. He was calm with her. He talked to her. No pretense. She seemed to like him, too…”
“Are you saying there’s a silver lining out there?”
“If there is, it’s still a ways off.” She bends down, clicking her mouse to log off. “But I’m rooting for you.”
Walking on the street helps me put everything in perspective. It’s a cool fall Saturday in Nashville, the tourists are out en masse, and my problems feel small by comparison. I’m a corporate guy in Music City.
