She sputtered. “Of course not—”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“About what?”
“About not being with the company, Heidi. Don’t play dumb.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a wide grin spread across Todd’s face. The little fucker was loving every second of this.
“I just, just needed some time—”
“We spent weeks together in the Bahamas. How much more time did you need?”
Ashamed, she felt a tear roll down her cheek.
God damn it, she screamed internally, do not fucking cry right now.
Todd, having check-mated her, steamrolled into the conversation.
“Oh, and Bradley, kiddo, sorry to say it, but Coach Simon is threatening to boot you from the team again. Something about how he ‘can’t handle any more of your antics.’”
Heidi refused to sob, no matter how much the lump in her throat was begging to emerge in an animal cry. Not only had she obfuscated the truth from Bradley, it had all been for nothing; even after all her hard work, Bradley’s career might still be in jeopardy.
“He can’t do that!” she cried. “Bradley is in the best shape of his life. It would be a disservice to the team to—”
“Enough,” Bradley said harshly. “We’re done here, Heidi. Get out.”
“But—”
“I said, get out. You’re fired.”
At last, the dam holding back Heidi’s tears broke, and she was racked with sobs that shook her whole body. For the third time in as many weeks, her life had completely changed on the turn of a dime. Suddenly, nothing felt safe. There was no point in trying to speak any further; Todd had seen to that. Bradley was convinced, and she knew it would take more than her blubbering words to convince him otherwise.
She rose from her seat, mustering a dignity she didn’t feel. She took one long, last look at Bradley’s face, but he refused to meet her eyes. She turned to Todd, gave him the finger, and strode out of the building, tears drenching the collar of her blouse.
Chapter 15
Heidi
Heidi drove straight to Annie’s, where her friend immediately saw the red in her eyes and pulled her into a hug. Heidi sobbed into the woman’s shoulder, comforted by the kind affection. Slowly, she broke the hug, explaining that she had business to handle. Annie nodded, and indicated that Heidi’s usual seat was open. Grateful, Heidi slunk off into the corner and curled up in her armchair.
Despite the meltdown, she’d had the presence of mind on her flight from Todd’s office to stop at Bradley’s car and ask the driver to hand over her luggage. It would save her the awkward run-in down the line, of course, but for the moment, she was mostly grateful to have her laptop. She opened the device and waited for it to load up as Annie walked over with a cup of hot chocolate—Orlando weather be damned—and a brownie.
“Thanks,” Heidi mumbled, smiling sadly at her friend.
“Anytime, hon. You holler if you need anything.”
Once Annie had bustled through into the back room, Heidi began to dig through the web. While she was still upset, internet prowling was her specialty; in this day and age, you didn’t get to be a PR person without knowing your way around cyber profile stalking. The familiar action soothed her—it felt nice to be doing something she knew she was good at it.
Slowly, after a few hours of work—with some spent sifting through content retrieval sites and following source links at the bottom of blog posts—Heidi had begun to piece together the puzzle. But she wasn’t sure yet, and she’d need final confirmation. There was only one person who could help.
She took her phone out of her purse and dialed her best friend at Image-ine, Meredith. They hadn’t texted while Heidi had been at Edenix, but hopefully, their relationship could withstand a few weeks of distance—not to mention Heidi’s newfound reputation as America’s favorite villain.
Meredith picked up the phone on the third ring.
“Heidi?” she asked. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, Mere. It’s nice to hear your voice.”
“Oh Heidi, I’m so sorry about everything. You didn’t deserve this.”
“Thanks. It does kinda suck being hated by the whole country.”
“No—well, sorry, yes, of course, that’s true—but I mean what Image-ine did. Just awful.”
This was exactly what Heidi had been looking for.
She replied, “What did Image-ine do, exactly?”
On the other end, Meredith sighed, and launched into a story.
“So, on the day you left, Gary sent orders throughout the office, up and down the chain of command. We were all supposed to burn you, whenever we could and by whatever means necessary. You were, in his words, ‘an ungrateful bitch’ who deserved to watch her career die a painful death.”
Heidi had, in some ways, known to expect it. Gary was a tool. And while he had apparently made it seem like taking her down was business-motivated, she instinctively understood that it was personal. Gary was going to make her pay for embarrassing him in front of the entire office. He just needed a good excuse.
Meredith continued.
“I know I don’t need to tell you this, but just to be clear, almost everyone was on your side. No one wanted to assist Gary’s insane vengeance plot. It was around that time, though, that some paparazzi got pics of you and Bradley at the airport, boarding the private charter together. The photos were circulated to all the usual gossip rags, and shortly thereafter, Image-ine got word. I think Gary contacted one of the paps, and grilled him on what you and Bradley were doing at the airport together.
“The freelancer tracked down one of the receptionists for the charter company, who I guess overheard you guys talking PR work. And that was enough for Gary. He put it all together: that just as you were leaving Image-ine, you’d been hired out by Bradley, who thought you were still under the auspices of the company. He called an emergency exec meeting and informed everyone that you had, as he put it, ‘snatched’ a huge client from their grasps.”
Heidi interrupted, “But Bradley asked for me specifically.”
“Listen, girl, I know. I’m just telling you what happened. Anyways, you know Bob, Nancy, Steve and the rest,” she said, referring to the executives. “They felt cheated, and that bunch hates feeling cheated. They gave Gary the go-ahead to—by whatever means necessary—skin you alive.”
Meredith paused, her breathing growing shaky.
“When I think of the self-satisfied look on his stupid face… Jesus Christ, if I could get my hands around that fat neck—”
“Mere, it’s okay. Really.”
“It’s not okay. You gave years of hard work to the company, and now they’re treating you like shit.”
“I can handle it.”
“Oh, and get this—Gary’s wife just filed for divorce.”
Everything clicked into place; Heidi just needed final confirmation.
“So, what you’re saying,” she replied, “is that Gary isn’t on the war path because I left the company—it’s because I didn’t help him lie to his wife. Am I right?”
The line went silent for a moment, until Meredith at last said, “Obviously, I can’t know that for certain but…I’d say it’s the most likely explanation.”
Heidi felt faintly vindicated. She’d suspected it from the moment she’d heard of Gary’s involvement, but now, with his wife leaving and all, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d put the wolves on her scent. Bastard.
“Thank you, Mere. I appreciate you risking your job like this, to tell me everything.”
“Anytime. Fuck Gary.”
Heidi smiled, repeated, “Fuck Gary,” and told her friend goodbye for now—she had work to do.
She hung up the phone, incensed, but relieved to have some clarity of mind. This was a situation that Bradley would understand—a sexual predator for a boss? Bradley was a stand-up guy; he would understand that none of this had been her fault. All she had to do was tell hi
m.
She went to his contact info, prepared to ring him up and break the news, when suddenly, she received an incoming call from an unknown number.
Assuming it was probably some kind of automated telemarketing, she picked it up, and gruffly said, “What is it?”
“Hello, Ms. Morris. This is Adrian from Schwartz, Schwartz and Stubenmeister.”
Oh God. Heidi recognized the name immediately—it was the law firm that Image-ine hired to represent clients in public legal battles. This can’t be good, she thought helplessly.
“Ms. Morris,” the voice continued, “I’m calling on behalf of our client, Image-ine Inc. As a courtesy, we’d like to inform you that Image-ine will be suing you for the poaching of a valuable client under false pretenses, one Mr. Bradley Fox.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m afraid not. I can email you the details in a minute, but I can tell you that while this case is pending, a judge has issued a cease and desist; your company is to cease trading immediately.”
“On what grounds?” she shot back.
“On the grounds that you registered the company while you were still technically employed by Image-ine.”
Her mouth fell open as she thought back to almost a month ago.
Heidi had founded her little company on the same day she’d left Image-ine. Obviously, she had quit, but no paperwork had been drawn up by that point; there had been no formalized severing of her contract. The lawyers were right; technically speaking, she’d violated her terms of employment.
“So that you’re aware, the judge may ask you to forfeit some or all of your earnings from Mr. Fox to Image-ine.”
Heidi was reeling. This was, for sure, the absolute worst-case scenario.
“Lastly, Bradley’s management, including Mr. Todd Beauregard, have gone on record, stating that they were unaware that you no longer worked for Image-ine at the time of your hiring by Mr. Fox, and that had they been informed of this detail, they would’ve counseled Mr. Fox to work with another PR firm.”
There was nothing she could say. This wasn’t fair, but it had all happened as Adrian said it had.
“Mr. Beauregard and his company are insisting that you make no attempt to contact Mr. Fox, via phone, email, text, social media—”
“I get it, Adrian. No contact.”
“Yes, on the grounds that if you have any further involvement with Mr. Fox, it will only serve to worsen his public image, which has a quantifiable monetary value. Thus, if you do try to contact Mr. Fox, his management will sue you for defamation.” He paused. “Is all of this clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Very well, then. You’ll be hearing from Schwartz, Schwartz and Stubenmeister representatives in the coming weeks.”
Heidi hung up the phone and threw it on the floor with a small scream. Luckily, the sound of the espresso machine drowned out her cry, and Annie didn’t come running from the kitchen.
What have I done? she thought. What do I do?
It was astounding just how quickly this mess had metastasized, gobbling up her whole life. Two potential lawsuits on her doorstep, no means through which to grow her company, or even make an income, and she wasn’t even allowed to contact Bradley.
She knew Gary was angry, but to do all this? To actually ruin her life, and her livelihood? It somehow went beyond the cruelty of which she’d assumed him to be capable. He wasn’t just trying to enact revenge, no; he was trying to wipe her out of existence.
How could she ever work in this town again? PR was a tight, gossipy circle; she was certain every other firm already knew the painful details of her newfound legal battles. She would become an outcast, the exact opposite of a Midas touch in the business world. Public relations work was literally built on relations—how could she possibly conduct business if no one would talk to her?
But equally bad was this injunction that barred her from speaking with Bradley. She knew if she could just talk to him, just make him understand… He was a wonderful man. He’d move heaven and earth to get her justice.
Without the ability to reason with him and explain her side of the story, though, she was doomed. For all Bradley’s authority and star power, he had been managed and man-handled by “representatives” since he’d first gone D1 at U of Miami. He was accustomed to following orders, to trusting the folks who told him where to go and what hands to shake. He’d become woefully complacent in his own life.
She shook her head. Even now, she didn’t want to think poorly of him. The feelings that had led her into his arms in the Bahamas were still there, no matter how much everything else had changed. She was surprised—and devastated—to find how deeply she cared what he thought of her.
Unable to resist any longer, she broke down, crying once more. She touched the tears on her face, thinking how it had been years since she’d cried (and never in public). Heidi Morris just wasn’t a crier.
Somehow, this thought hit her harder than the rest, and she doubled over, weeping into the armchair.
For the first time in a long time, she had no idea how to put one foot in front of another—she saw no way of simply carrying on.
Chapter 16
Heidi
Two Months Later
Heidi put the kettle on to boil, and watched dully as the metal began to steam up. She stood, vacantly staring at the pot, until minutes later it rang, a shrill cry that filled the tiny kitchen. Robotically, she plucked a teabag from the pantry and tossed it into her mug, pouring the hot water on top. In the space of just a few months, the action had become rote.
So this is what they meant when they said “office drone.”
Out of work, and facing two lawsuits, Heidi had been forced to take a shitty job at a shitty PR firm in a shitty part of town. It was all just…well, shitty. But she’d needed the money, and when Doleman & Co. had offered her a position, she’d said yes.
The job mainly consisted of her scouring Orlando-based gossip blogs for hot tips on celebs coming in and out of town who might want to put in an appearance at a nightclub opening, or special restaurant event. Essentially, she was playing middle-man between the kinds of D-list celebrities who would come to Orlando for no reason other than to cut a ribbon and leave.
She couldn’t bear to reflect on how far she’d fallen, because it only made her nauseous.
Needless to say, the pay sucked. After all, this was the sort of job that would be phased out in a few years, once robots figured out how to scan crappy forums. She hoped—with more than a little bitterness—that the robot takeover would come sooner than expected.
Then, she could just go bag groceries at a supermarket. It seemed like where she was going to end up anyways, so she might as well get there sooner rather than later.
To her credit, she’d tried to bargain briefly, but as she’d discovered, nobody at Doleman & Co. cared that she had a business degree from a well-known university. Every person in the office had a business degree from somewhere, and some of them were doing even more menial work than she was.
Said colleagues were boring—most spent lunches in their cubicles, eating limp, pre-packed salads and watching compilation clips from reality shows. When people did eventually bump into one another in the kitchen or bathroom, they exchanged small nods, chatted vacantly about perhaps getting beers at the bar round the corner after work, and then returned to their desks, knowing full well they’d never grab those drinks.
And as far as Heidi could tell, they preferred it that way. Doleman & Co. was run on the backs of isolated introverts, and no one seemed interested in changing that fact.
Thanksgiving had happened a few days ago, which meant they’d gotten Thursday and Friday off. She’d asked one of her co-workers, Sam, if he was excited about the long weekend, and he’d explained that he’d probably just spend it in bed, playing video games, maybe ordering takeout. She’d tried to restrain the pitying look that had crossed her face, but suspected he’d seen it all the same.
Now, the C
hristmas lights were up on the balcony rails of the duplexes around her. She had been smart, back at Image-ine, to save a good amount of her paychecks, because that’s how she’d been affording to stay in her luxury apartment for the past two months.
Heidi had seen the lights being hung and known she would probably have to move after this holiday season had passed. As a former lover of anything seasonal and ornamental, she was disappointed to see this change in herself: from an enthusiast who’d decorated the tree a month too early, to the Scrooge who wished people would cover up their household decorations and join her in misery.
She hadn’t been able to visit her parents over Thanksgiving, which had only amplified her loneliness. They’d had one or two nice phone calls, wherein both parties had said how thankful they were for the other. Her mom had talked about how she’d muddled up the stuffing this year, again, and how they were going to have to go out and by the pre-made version after all.
Heidi had listened as they’d chatted on about the perfect basting of the turkey, and the experimental new cranberry sauce recipe. She’d thought cranberry sauce was the worst part of the meal, but her father had begged to differ.
When she’d gotten off the calls, she’d cried a little, wistfully thinking of her family. Ever since that fateful, horrible day, she’d cried with increased frequency, until it had become almost a part-time hobby. She’d started carrying around emergency mini-packs of tissues. The salt levels were starting to dampen the glow of her skin.
Besides her parents, there was one other person Heidi would’ve wanted to share Christmas with, but she was still forbidden from speaking with him. She supposed she could’ve disobeyed the no-contact rule if she really wanted to, but she didn’t have the cash to settle a lawsuit with Image-ine.
The lawsuit was still in the so-called discovery phase, and logically, she knew that her best bet was to keep from antagonizing any of the accusers. There was some kind of dim hope in the back of her brain that if she just laid low, everyone would forget she existed.
The Baby Blindside (Baby Surprise Romance) Page 9
