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How am I supposed to handle this?
Mortimer and I broke up. Now I’m tumbling head over heels for Parker, and Mortimer goes and pulls a move like this…?
What a freaking mess.
I could instruct Claire to pump out some press of our own to stop the rumors. That would involve coming clean to the public about the fact that me and Mortimer are no longer an item. Since we’re sort of the golden example of my company’s work, I have to make sure we handle this situation carefully.
Claire busily compliments the photograph of me and Mortimer, and gushes about how happy we both look. I know the photo she’s talking about. It was taken while we were on vacation to Hawaii. I remember forcing a smile for that picture, because I was so annoyed at Mortimer for working all day, during our vacation.
While I fight off a wave of nausea, Claire goes on. “...and it’s fabulous that you two are finally getting hitched. Really. But—couldn’t you have at least given me some time to write a press release? Or make a plan for how we can publicize this?”
“I had no idea—”
“Oh, puh-lease. This can’t be catching you off guard. You and Mortimer wanted this to come as a surprise to everyone, right? That’s cute—gives it a spontaneous flavor that the press will love. But I’msureyou guys have already hashed out the details of the proposal. So at the least, you could fill me in now so I can line up interviews and all. We need to be proactive, when it comes to what kind of media reach we’ll get out of this. He’s going to pop the question in Broad Hollow, after he speaks at this conference, I’m guessing…?”
“Maybe.”How should I know?This is all news to me.
She huffs with frustration. “Gemma, you’re my boss, and I’m sorry if I’m getting worked up. Really. But this is big, and I’m freaking out. I mean, I hate to sound cynical, but you marrying him is a big-time advertising opportunity. Do you realize I already have messages from dozens of journalists from papers across the US and Europe?”
“Claire, slow down.”
She sounds distracted as she goes on. “Okay, as an example. Just now—seconds ago—a new email came in. Saul Croft from theNew York Timeswants to talk to you so he can get a quote for the article he’ll publish, once you say yes.”
Once I say yes?
Whoa.
This is out of control.
I hate when things are out of control.
But how can I fix this? How can I make it right?
Claire’s talking at a fast clip. “He already has the headline and everything.‘Gemma Lafferty, Leading Expert on Love, Says Yes.”
Now I feel legitimately sick.
But I can’t stop Claire from going on. “And here’s the tagline…now I’m reading right from his email. Get this: “Gemma Lafferty, statistics genius and founder and CEO of Right Match, gifted the world with a numerical system for finding perfect love. Now she’s about to marry her very own right match.” I mean, that is good press. Great advertising. That’s going to get us thousands of new clients. But now I’m totally crunched on time and—”
“Wait, wait.”
I wish this helicopter feeling would stop, in my head.
I wish Parker wasn’t walking toward me, two boxes of pie in his arms.
I wish I couldn’t see the Animal Shelter booth, behind him, complete with cute kittens in a basket on the booth’s table.
I know I have to deal with this issue Claire’s brought to my attention. It’s a fire I have to put out—in person, with care. But how do you leave a postcard-worthy town, Parker Manning, apple pie, and kittens?
Not easily.
Not happily.
I know I sound grumpy as I cut Claire off. “This is catching me off guard and I need a minute to figure out my next move. I’m thinking I need to go to Broad Hollow to talk to Mortimer about this face-to-face. Clearly, there’s been some sort of miscommunication. We’re not on the same page.”
She doesn’t get what I’m talking about, and I don’t blame her. In Claire’s mind, me and Mortimer are the smiling power couple pictured in his totally out-of-line social media post.
She tries to cut in, but I bulldoze over her. I am the boss, after all. “I do have some thoughts about some quick damage control. Can you get in touch with Nikko?”
