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Maxim pulls the printouts I set down on the table closer to him, paging through them as his expression becomes more and more serious. “This isn’t a joke, Vince. Some of these comments were made months ago, and none of us has given him any indication that we’ve been reacting to what he’s saying. Essentially, even though Mike and the guys have been tracking the activity, we’ve been ignoring him, and the aggression of these posts is clearly escalating.”
Vincent shrugs. “Okay, so he’s getting pissed that no one is indulging him. Who cares? It’s the internet. People are assholes on the internet. They think they can say and do whatever they want, and for the most part, they can. Just block him from all our accounts, or I’ll do it, and the problem will be solved.”
“Well, actually…” I clear my throat. “My dad specifically advised against blocking this person. Maxim is right about the escalation. If we block them, we’ll have no way of tracking the activity and therefore no way of keeping an eye on them.”
“You want to keep an eye on them, be my guest.” He looks back at Maxim while lying back in his chair again. “If you ask me, our time would be better spent if we just keep talking about the wedding.”
He glances at me, making a shooing motion with his hand. “You can tell your dad that you warned us and we’ve been made aware that this person is a troll. Thanks, but you can go now.”
Maxim levels him with a stern look. “Stop being a dick. We can talk about the wedding anytime. This is a security meeting, and this seems like a legit concern to me, so we need to know what’s happening with it.”
“You were talking about the wedding?” I ask.
“Before we were so rudely interrupted,” Vincent snaps, sending a pointed glare at me before his chest puffs out and glee washes over his features. “I’m Maxim’s best man, so I’m taking the bachelor party seriously. Since we can’t talk about that when Emma’s around, we need to grab every chance we can get.”
“I’ve already told you that we’re keeping the bachelor party tame, and we want to do a combined thing anyway.”
I smile, and I know it’s a dreamy one. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Emma mentioned something about that the other day. She said she’d let me know if I can help with any of the plans.”
“You can’t,” Vincent says to me, then turns back to his brother. “We can do a combined bachelor and bachelorette, but what if we just end the night all together instead of doing everything together.”
“We can talk about it.” Maxim nods slowly, smiling back at me. “Thank you for offering to help. Ignore him when he says you can’t. We’d appreciate all the help we can get when the planning starts for real, but at the moment, we’re just throwing around ideas. We’ll see what sticks in the end.”
A happy sigh escapes me. Deep down, I’m jealous of Maxim and Emma’s relationship. Not because I want him. God, no. I love the guy like a brother, and I’ve always looked up to him. I also have mad respect for him, but none of my feelings toward him are now nor have they ever been romantic.
I just want what he has with Emma. I’m a giant romantic at heart, and the two of them are just so perfect together. “If you need someone to toss some more ideas into the mix or to help you sort through the ones you already have, I’d be happy to help with that too. You two are couple goals to me. Anything you need, all you have to do is shout, and I’ll be there.”
“Couple goals?” Vincent cocks a dark-blond brow at me, a slow, patronizing smirk pinching the corners of his lips. “How can you possibly have any goals relating to being a couple when you’ve never even had a boyfriend? Better yet, how could you ever have had a boyfriend when you’re constantly locked inside and dressed like you live in a convent?”
“Just because I have standards that are too high to be with just anyone doesn’t mean I’ve never had the opportunity to date someone. Plus, of course I can have goals of what I want my relationship to look like someday. That’s why I’ve been so careful about not just settling down with the first person who’s come along. I know what I’m looking for, and I have no problem holding out for him.”
Vincent and I bicker back and forth for another minute before Maxim steps in again. “Can we just get back to work, guys? You can argue all you want after I leave, but I’d really like to get this done. If I’m going to be listening to any arguments, I’d rather they come from Emma about why her character should or shouldn’t be doing what they’re doing.”
I nod, placing my fingertips on top of the printouts and turning them to face both of the brothers while I walk them through it. “Okay, so all of these are interactions we’ve had across all social media platforms plus the messages that have been sent to Vincent. We suspect it’s the same person operating from different accounts based on what they’ve been saying and, as I said earlier, the encryption they’ve been using to hide their identity. Our technical people are on it, and we’ll update you if and when we manage to trace them.”
“What have they been saying that’s upset you so much?” Vincent asks, still obviously not taking the threat seriously at all. “Wait, don’t tell me. They said some nasty things about your hair or clothes.”
“No, actually, they’ve been spewing shit about the band, the new songs, and you,” Maxim says pointedly.
Vincent frowns and jerks a thumb at his chest. “Me?”
“Yep.” I take over then, moving the printouts so they’re more in front of him than Maxim. “You seem to have a fan out there, except the guy isn’t happy with how you’re being treated and, more recently, about the fact that you’re not paying any attention to him.”
“You’re joking.” He looks at me like he expects me to agree, but I let out a long breath and shake my head.
“I wish I was, but I’m not. It seems like the person was a fan of the band, but over time, their rhetoric has become more and more focused on you. For example, they think you should be getting more credit publicly for what you’ve been doing because Full Moon wouldn’t be anything anymore if you hadn’t brought them into this century by rejuvenating their social media. Stuff like that.”
He keeps looking into my eyes for another beat, and for a second, I think he’s actually going to start taking it seriously, but then he scoffs. “So I have a fan out there. I don’t understand why anyone is worried about that. I have thousands of them. Some might even call me an influencer.”
“Sure, but we’re worried because this guy is mentioning you by name, and he’s definitely getting angry. You may have lots of fans, but this guy is becoming increasingly more hardcore. My dad doesn’t necessarily think he poses a physical threat to you or anyone just yet, but he wanted you to be aware that they’re upgrading it to a developing situation. We’ll be keeping a much closer eye on it from now on.”
“Why?” he asks. “It’s the fucking internet. There are always going to be trolls on the internet. Besides, if the guy is a fan, why would he ever pose a threat? I’m a great guy. Obviously, I have hardcore fans. I inspire people.”
While I hear what he’s saying, my chin lowers, and I tuck it into my chest, my eyes narrowing as I search for any sign of concern on his face. “Why? Do you really have to ask that after everything that happened in the past? Of course my dad takes it seriously, and so should you. In fact, if there’s anything in life you should take seriously, it’s something like this.”
I doubt he’ll take it seriously coming from me, but at least I tried. I sigh anyway because I really thought things were getting better between us. It looks as though that was just my imagination, though. My imagination and all that freaking dancing.
From now on, I’m keeping all my moves to my damn self. That’s for sure.
