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“Yeah, bad news.”
“Who were you chatting with just now?” My eyes narrow.
“A publicist.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Well, the good news is it’s a fixable problem.” Luke steeples his fingers upwards as he sits at the edge of the chair.
My stomach growls, but this time, it isn’t from hunger. It’s from unease. Luke’s eyes are on me, and his gaze is that of a cop about to deliver bad news to a victim’s family. I take a hard gulp..
“That’s why you made the sandwiches?”
“You take bad news better when you’re not hungry.”
He’s not wrong. I sit forward and interlock my fingers. I nod to him to signify it’s okay to tell me. I’m ready.
“Where’s your phone?”
I tap my pocket. “Here.”
“I sent you an email. It’ll tell you what we’re dealing with.”
The vibration earlier must have been when he sent the mail. I get my phone, and my face unlocks it. I open my email app with a link to an article. I click, and it loads for a few seconds—seconds with my heart in my mouth—then it opens.
Tristan Jackson, Pixel’s CEO, and his dirty secrets unveiled by Miles Goldberg
Even though I take no joy in this, It’s up to me to paint the portrait of a man seemingly unfit for both leadership and corporate leadership. We don’t have to struggle to undermine Tristan Jackson’s credibility both in his personal relationships and the corporate world; his excessive alcohol consumption, womanizing nature, and dark military past are enough to do it for him…
My fingers tighten around my phone as I read. Each sentence from the hit piece feels like a dagger to my reputation—a reputation I’ve worked tirelessly to maintain. White hot anger pulses within me as my eyes fly across the accusations—a drunk, a womanizer, a lousy father.
“What the hell is this, Luke?” My body rigidifies with anger, and I feel my muscles taut with tension.
Luke’s face is etched with lines of concern. “Lies, of course. But they’re dangerous lies that can ruin your reputation.”
My eyes widen. “The board directors.”
Luke sighs a deep, weary sigh that speaks of shared burdens. “Tristan, we need damage control. The board meeting is in a week. Knowing them, they will seize this opportunity to oust you as the CEO.”
I grind my teeth so hard I can feel a headache coming on. I rubbed my brows to ward off the headache, but it does nothing to subdue my anger or the ache.
“Who's this Miles guy? I'm gonna find him, and he will rue the day he decided to print trash about me.”
“Calm down, Tristan.”
“Don't tell me what to do. I am calm. I am calmly going to rip his fucking head off, that's what.” My foot stomped the floor in barely contained annoyance.
I stand, my phone clutched in my hand. I know what Luke was trying to tell me. The board could decide to vote me out as the CEO. The Fishers are trying to steal my baby; now, I could lose the company I spent years of my life building.
“I’m going to find this Miles, and I’m gonna—”
“You’re going to do nothing, man.” Luke stands and joins me as we pace. “Any violence will only give this thing more legs.”
I take a deep breath and try to center myself.
“So, what do we do?”
Luke stops in his tracks, and I can almost see a lightbulb appear on his head. He turns to me. “I have an idea.”
