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Mom waves to get my attention. “What are you doing?”
“What’s the number one thing I’m good at?”
“Being our daughter.”
“Okay, the second number one thing.”
“There can only be one number one,” mom argues.
I narrow my eyes in impatience.
She sighs. “Modeling?”
“No,” I show her my phone, “social media.” Mom’s confusion increases at the exact rate of my excitement. “Henry and I couldn’t get our brand off the ground, but that was because we were trying to sell something. My personal page was buzzing, but once I started selling things, I lost organic followers there too.”
“Doesn’t that mean you’re… not good at social media?” Mom points out.
“No, it means I know how to use pictures to sell a story, not a product. When the posts were just about me living my life, I had way more engagement. That’s what convinced me I could sell products too. I lost focus because I was trying to be something I wasn’t. A saleswoman.”
“How does this help you with Dare?”
“Lucy said Dare had to fire an executive and that executive is suing him.” It doesn’t take me long to search up the articles to show mom. If I’d been brave enough to google Dare earlier, I would have seen the controversy.
Mom’s eyes spark with light. She whips out her phone and does a quick search of her own. “His company put out a statement. One of those dry, ‘we deny those allegations, don’t spread misinformation’ posts.”
“It’s a common strategy. They’re taking a passive approach, thinking the truth is all they need. But this guy is churning out bad press every day.” I remember Dare mentioning an important government project that required his name being squeaky clean. “It’s probably his biggest headache.”
“And you think you can fix it? But how? Even if you post something to defend him, that doesn’t mean anyone will listen. You have authority in the entertainment world and in modeling, sure. But this is the business world. They might not care enough to hear what you have to say.”
“That’s why I’ll drown their world out until they can’t hear anything else.”
“By sharing pictures of yourself?” Mom still looks perplexed.
I grin. “I said I could sellastory. I didn’t say that story would be mine.”
* * *
One call to Clay Bolton is all it takes to get Dare’s location. After all, Clay—Island’s husband and the best ex-military security contractor in the city—can track people in his sleep.
Turns out, Dare is out of the country working on a new investment.
Island offers to get her husband to hack into Dare’s phone and send a message. It’s tempting, but I tell the Boltons no. Dare probably won’t be happy to have his hard drive wiped just so I can tell him we need to talk.
Instead, I hole up in my room, researching every negative article that’s circulating about Dare, Dare’s late father, and their company.
The first thing I do is verify whether those statements are true. I’m no stranger to digging up dirty laundry on shady companies, which is why I wouldn’t have touched the original Ru-Carpsel with a ten-foot pole.
Dare’s company comes out relatively clean in my search, as far as any giant corporation can be. They made their fortune selling software, licensing digital products and then investing in real estate. There are no gold mines, sweatshops, or factories with atrocious human rights violations.
That gives me both a moral leg to stand on and certainty that his ex-employee, Gregory Carmichael, is full of hot air and on a smear campaign.
Next, I contact the most influential people I know.
Nova is my first target.
Initially, she resists me, but eventually I convince her to share her rags to riches story—coming from a little girl in a struggling family to manning Adam Harrison’s billion-dollar fortune and being the CEO of a successful R&D company.
Once the article is published and the buzz on Nova starts gaining traction, I send out videos asking my fans to share the story. Drawn by the hashtags and viral videos, it doesn’t take long before giant news outlets are writing about Nova’s success.
