Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
About an hour later, though, he starts blowing up my Inbox.
Jenn,
Are we not speaking again?
Can you write two pillar articles rebutting the claims in the Pacific-Resolute piece? I’m confident you’ve read it by now.
Once you’ve done that, have it posted immediately. I’ll have creative structure all their social media posts around it.
Yours,
M. Cromwell
“Ignore him,” I hiss to myself.
And I do for the next half hour, reading over the article draft from our writers, which Sarah spent all night tightening up in edits.
I happily send back my approval before I respond to Dracula.
It’s on its way to publication as we speak.
We’re still talking, but only about business. I’m not so petty I’d freeze you out when we’re in crisis mode, Miles.
I’m earning my keep with the company. Just not with you.
Never yours again,
Jennifer
But as the email goes out, there’s no relief.
As soon as the panic push ends, we’re right back to square one.
I’m more confused than ever, and I can’t help wondering how much more he’ll destroy my life before he’s gone.
16
No Backing Down (Miles)
Mission accomplished.
If there was an award for slinging great content under a mountain of crushing pressure, my team would have it.
Before the hefty bonuses arrive on their next paycheck, I start showing my gratitude with a catered breakfast in the conference room from the finest café in town.
But first, they deserve a few words.
A few more than the rundown I sent everyone by email this morning, explaining the plot against Pinnacle Pointe without directly calling out Pacific-Resolute.
I walk to the front of the room and clear my throat.
“I want to thank you, everyone, on behalf of myself and Mayor Johnson of Pinnacle Pointe. The content you’ve posted may well save this town from years of distress. You crushed every turnaround time and exceeded all expectations. You’re the heroes of Cromwell-Narada. So go ahead. Stand tall and be proud of this company, and prouder of your work.” I pause while applause rattles around me. “There’s also one woman I have to thank individually. Without her, I doubt we would’ve pulled this miracle off on the same grand scale. We’ll get to that in a moment, though.
“You’ll be pleased to know I had several reports commissioned addressing the real crime situation in Pinnacle Pointe. Real facts, not fluff. The hit piece was worse than dishonest. It was entirely circumstantial. Our rebuttal focuses on genuine problems and solutions, with input from the local mayor and sheriff. Another interesting fact we learned in our research—there’s no record of Jessica King anywhere in Pinnacle Pointe. The attack article shamelessly used a fabricated source.”
A few gasps ring out.
Smokey Dave swears under his breath. “Dude. Not cool.”
“There’ll be a time to address that later. For now, Jennifer Landers, will you please stand up? You saved a lot of asses, and I’d like to lead the next round of applause.”
She stands, wearing snug black slacks and a blouse with a slit in each arm.
Goddamn.
This woman could show up decked out like a rodeo clown and I’d still be captivated.
My eyes are riveted, undoubtedly shining with hunger and a guilt I can’t hide.
My latest blunders haven’t left my brain for a single second through this mess.
And I’m reminded of that again as she turns, nodding her thanks to the crowd without ever meeting my eyes.
“Thanks, guys, but I should get back to work.” She starts walking toward the door, waving at smiling faces.
I expect her to look back, to show me the slightest acknowledgement.
Nothing.
Damn, I’ve really fucked this up.
Later, when I’m ready to sign off for the day and get some well-earned rest, she’s still logged into the crisis team chat, her icon lit green.
Since I know she’s here, I take the elevator down one floor and walk into her office, stopping in the doorway.
“When you’re here this late, you should shut your door. Any psycho could barge in.”
She looks up and rolls her eyes.
“Too late. One already did.”
I smile like the idiot I am, knowing I set myself up for that.
That gets her moving, though, packing up her things as she stands.
When she reaches the doorway, I’m still standing there unmoving.
“It’s too late for this. Miles, I’m exhausted.” Her words are clipped and ice-cold.
“How are you really? Beyond the big fire we just extinguished, I mean.”
She scoffs, wrinkling her nose like I’m drenched in gasoline.
“I’m dandy. How do you think I am?” She pushes past me—rather, she tries.
After a second of fight, I think better of it and let her pass, holding in a sigh.
Still.
I can’t leave this festering.
So I chase her to the elevator, calling, “Jenn, wait. Let’s share a ride home.”
She whips her head around, scowling.
“Let’s not. I don’t share car rides or anything else with dudes who just use me to get their rocks off.” She pauses. “Or guys who charm their way into my grandmother’s will. Screw you, Miles.”