The #5Star Affair (Love Hashtagged Book 1)

by Lindt, Allyson

  Shit. He’d been passed over because he’d taken the wrong side in this whole #5StarFUQ thing. Guilt wormed its way into her gut, and she squashed it. “I don’t think they can legally do that.” That was probably a less than helpful response.

  His nostrils flared, and he drew his lips into a thin line. “It’s not like I have proof.” He set the remote aside, scooted forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” The sour tone was gone from his words, replaced with acceptance. “At least this way I know I did what was right.”

  She didn’t hear resignation in his words. It was more like a quiet kind of pride, mixed with sadness. She knelt in front of him, to meet his gaze. “I know I haven’t acted grateful up to this point, but I really am. I’m not the kind of aggressive you are, and you’ve kept me from collapsing during this.”

  “Yeah, I’m amazing like that.” A smirk sneaked onto his face. “I wish I hadn’t been so dense about the whole thing, though. About trying to understand where you were coming from. I still get the feeling I’m missing something.”

  “Like what?”

  He relayed the conversation with Stacy, and Jaycie’s shock grew with each new detail. It took a moment when he was done, for it all to process.

  “She’s got a point”—Jaycie measured her words, not wanting to step too far in either direction—“but it’s no more your fault than it is mine.”

  “I got that much.” He tugged her hand, and pulled her onto the couch next to him. “I was part of the problem before.”

  Jaycie grabbed his arm, draped it over her shoulder, and leaned into him. “It’s not about being a big, bad protector, or always having to take a stand.” As the words spilled out, they coalesced into a cohesive thought, finally feeling like the point she was trying to get across. “It’s about complementing the people around you, and treating them like equals. You can’t jump in and stick up for someone, just because it’s chivalrous. They have to want your help. It has to be because that’s what you both need. You balance me out, and I hope I do the same for you. You treat me like an equal and respect me and listen to my opinions. Not because I’m female and you’re male, but because we’re people.”

  He trailed his fingers along her arm in rhythm with his words. “See—that I understand.”

  She wanted to curl up with him and just be happy they were both on the same page. However, the drive she’d clung to all day wasn’t quite gone. “Did they really pass you over because you’ve been vocal about #5StarFUQ?”

  His shrug shifted her entire torso, and his sigh echoed in her thoughts. “I don’t know for certain,” he said, “but the odds seem good, since I was the top candidate a few weeks ago, and this morning they wrapped the bad news in a warning about my behavior.”

  What she had to say next wasn’t going to make him happy. Given his reactions in the past, it might be the final spoiled cherry on a miserable melted sundae of a day. Best to get it out of the way. “Call Damon.”

  His entire frame froze beneath her, the only movement was his fingers tapping lightly against her shoulder. “Because today wasn’t sucky enough?”

  At least she’d guessed that right. “Because I think he can help us with a solution. Either call him, or see if you can get a referral from him.”

  The hesitation dragged from seconds into minutes, until Ethan finally said, “All right. I’ll call him.”

  ****

  “I’m glad I get to see you again before I fly out.” Damon gave Jaycie a peck on the cheek when she let him into the apartment. He looked far more casual than he had when they’d met him for dinner, but his slacks and polo shirt still made Jaycie feel underdressed in a T-shirt and cutoffs. “Was it your idea to call me?”

  “It was.”

  “I knew you’d be good for him.” Damon nodded at Ethan.

  “Pretty sure that works both ways,” she replied. It had been a few days since Ethan had placed the call, but they all finally had a free evening on their calendars. Some of Jaycie’s bravado had vanished, since she first had the idea, but every time she started to wonder if this was the right thing to do, she replayed the plan in her head.

  The three made random small talk, Ethan grabbing beers from the fridge, and Jaycie agreeing about the gorgeous spring weather. Damon made himself comfortable leaning back in one of the chairs with his ankle propped on the other knee, and Jaycie settled in next to Ethan on the couch. When she wasn’t overthinking the situation, being casual and familiar with Ethan just felt natural. She liked that a lot.

  Damon took a long swallow off his beer, then set the bottle on the coffee table. “Knowing my baby brother’s aversion to small talk, I assume he didn’t invite me over to catch up on a whole week’s worth of life. So what can I do for you?”

  At least he made cutting to the point easy. He and Ethan definitely had that in common. Jaycie pushed aside her nagging hesitation, and plowed forward. “I’d like your legal help with the matter we discussed at dinner. #5StarFUQ.”

  Damon steepled his fingers, tapping to the two forefingers together, and studied her for a moment. “Unless you know something I don’t, you still can’t silence the whole of the internet, and you still need someone to sue.”

  “I know you can’t shut the trolls up”—she fumbled for the carefully crafted argument she’d had, and grasped at its threads—“but there are companies like Console Power and Digital Media, who can be taken to task for discrimination.”

  Damon raised his eyebrows. “I like the deep pockets on that, but can you prove it?”

  “Console Power stopped buying my articles because my name was part of the rumors.”

  “That’s a tough road to walk.” Damon gritted his teeth. “Technically, J-Dub is a public figure, and those rules are a little bit different. You’re the brand, and there are laws around marring the public image of brands. Also, you’re a work-for-hire contractor, and unless they have a long-term agreement with you, they’re not under any obligation to keep buying your work.

  Crap. She’d been so certain. She struggled to find more. “But it’s not just about me. What about everyone else who’s been affected? I don’t just want this for me.” She took a deep breath, and pushed out the idea she’d hoped to build up to a lot more slowly. “I’m talking about a legal defense fund, for anyone who has to deal with this kind of discrimination. Say, someone who’s worried about being passed over for a promotion at work because they spoke up.”

  Ethan’s hand tightened on her knee, and she risked a sideways glance. His jaw was clenched, and his face an impassive mask.

  If Damon noticed, it didn’t faze him. “It’s a nice idea, but I wasn’t kidding before about money. I’ll help you however I can, but I can’t defend the universe, especially for free, any more than I can shut up the internet.”

  “I know.” Now the words built up in her brain faster than she could process them. “I’m not asking you to. Consider, first of all, that this is amazing press.”

  “Which doesn’t pay the bills, when half our potential clients are the people you want to sue.”

  “And consider how many companies would donate to a legal fund like this, for their own good press.” There. A trickle of relief formed inside. It grew when Damon snapped his mouth shut, and looked at her expectantly. She pushed forward. “Game Sneak offered ‘whatever financial help is needed for a legal defense.’ They won’t be the only ones.”

  Damon’s doubt melted into a grin, and he glanced at Ethan. “She might just be too smart for you.” He looked back at Jaycie. “I can donate my time, to draw up the paperwork for the funding and to help you form the foundation. You have to get people to sign on, though.”

  Cold calling companies, to ask for money? Even for a good cause? The idea made her gut churn. Maybe she should have considered that sooner.

  “Deal,” Ethan said.

  “Perfect.” Damon scooted forward on the chair, eyes flashing in excitement. “You’re going to want to make
a big deal of this, publicly. Right? That’s part of the point.”

  “Of course,” Jaycie said. “Especially at first, so people know the option is out there. I want anyone who’s been scared silent to have a chance to step forward, and take a stand. I know it won’t change the world or anything, but if it rearranges a few perspectives…”

  “Exactly what you need to be thinking.” Damon drummed his fingers on the coffee table. “That means you need a big case. Something to lead with. A poster-girl or boy, so to speak.”

  “But you already said I probably don’t have a case.” Jaycie had a lot of colleagues who might or might not be interested, but she’d have to go down the list. How long would that take? Would things lose momentum before then? Then again, any of her colleagues might run into the same public-figure snag she did.

  Damon looked past her at Ethan again. “You don’t know anyone who’s been passed over for a promotion recently, because they were too vocal?”

  Maybe she shouldn’t have made her hypothetical question so close to the truth. For the first time that evening, she hesitated. Ethan had agreed to help, but that had never been on the table.

  “I thought this was about women.” Ethan finally spoke.

  “It’s about everyone,” Damon said. “Equal opportunity, remember?”

  “I can’t sue the company I work for.” A hard edge snaked into Ethan’s voice.

  Jaycie wanted to feel smug that Ethan experienced the discomfort first hand, but she understood the circumstance all too well. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  “This is all or nothing, bab— bro.” Sympathy filled Damon’s eyes. “You can’t say you’ll take a stand, except when it applies to you. Besides, Digital Media has deep pockets, and they’ll make a nice nest egg to start with.”

  Ethan edged forward on the couch, and bounced his left leg. “Donations are funding this.”

  “Donations and settlements. This isn’t a cheap endeavor you’re talking about. You’re the perfect representative. Your name’s been on this from the beginning. Besides, if we go after someone big, Jaycie can afford to go after someone like Rich directly. Not with the hopes of getting any money out of him, but to prove the individual assholes aren’t protected just because they’re not worth billions.”

  A new layer of hope surged inside Jaycie. She hadn’t thought that would be an option. She wasn’t big on the idea of revenge, but this was right. Rich had screwed them over.

  Ethan was barely sitting on the cushion anymore. “They’ll fire me.” His hands were clenched into fists, and his voice was low.

  “Legally, they can’t.”

  “Okay,” Ethan said sarcastically. “Because keeping my job in an environment like that is going to be better?”

  “Do this, and you’ll be recruited by the same companies that fund us.”

  Ethan turned a narrowed-eyed glare on Jaycie. “You just had to say something, didn’t you? You couldn’t keep this between us. I notice you’re not tossing any of your own colleagues to the wolves here.”

  “Both our names go on this. You heard what he said about Rich.” Jaycie couldn’t keep the irritation from her voice. Ethan was acting like a child.

  “Anyone in her line of work has the same legal roadblocks she does when it comes to suing the big corporations.” Damon jumped to her defense. “Stop being an ass.”

  Ethan jerked to his feet. “You can’t threaten my job like this. Things might be bad now, but at least they’ll get better eventually. If you suck me into this, I’ll never recover.”

  Jaycie fumbled for a way to set things straight. To bring the conversation back online. “What about your plan? Your savings? You want to go indie. Now’s your chance.”

  Ethan gritted his teeth, and drew his lips into a thin line. “I don’t have the cash reserve yet. It’s a long-term plan, because I can’t do it tomorrow.”

  Jaycie’s irritation won out. How dare he pull this? “So, what? You’re going to just wait it out, and hope it all goes away?”

  “Yes.”

  She poured her anger into her retort. “Do you hear yourself? Are you mocking me just because it’s fun, or do you actually think you’re some kind of special case? You’re not really using the same argument you’ve spent the last few weeks trying to talk me out of, are you?”

  His toe tapped double- time against the floor, vibrating the coffee table. “It’s not the same.”

  Now she knew what it was like to be on the other side of the argument. Had she really been so dense? Every time he tossed up another weak protest, her fury increased another notch. “How is it different? Make me understand.”

  “Forget it.” Ethan turned away. “I’m not doing this. Find someone else.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ethan knew he’d been unreasonable. The moment he’d opened his mouth to argue, he knew he wouldn’t have a legitimate counter to why he shouldn’t do what Jaycie and Damon proposed.

  But it was easier than admitting he hadn’t quite understood what Jaycie was experiencing up until that moment. That facing the reality of living it himself was terrifying.

  Damon had left several hours ago, and Jaycie wasn’t talking to Ethan. He’d been sitting in his room since, staring at his computer screen, and watching the venom in the #5StarFUQ hashtag scroll by.

  Twenty-four hours ago, it had been a source of anger and frustration, but he’d been able to reply. To take a stand. The hashtag made things tough at work, but not enough he couldn’t cope. Now it had the potential to end his career.

  Except, no matter how many arguments he tried to summon for why he shouldn’t go along with Jaycie’s idea, none felt right. She was doing what she needed, and he supported that.

  The only question he really had was would she forgive him for being an ass about the whole thing? And maybe, did he actually have the strength to admit how much the idea of placing himself on display and risking his entire career scared him?

  He breathed in deeply, to calm his thoughts. The right answer was there, and he could do this. Starting with apologizing to Jaycie. He padded to her bedroom and paused, hand halfway to knocking. It was after midnight. She was probably still asleep.

  The door swung open, startling him. Jaycie stood on the other side, arms crossed, an oversized T-shirt all but covering her shorts. “I thought I heard you out here.” Her tone held no emotion.

  A million openers raced through his thoughts, each considered and discarded in a millisecond, leaving him with nothing. “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “We seem to say that a lot.”

  “It’s kind of a part of life.” He gave her a half smile. “At least for reasonable people. Which I wasn’t, earlier.”

  She relaxed, arms dropping to her sides. “It’s not easy, is it?”

  “Not really. You can even say, ‘I told you so.’”

  She shook her head, and intertwined her fingers with his. “I’m not really into that. But whatever we’re about to do, we’ll go through it together. This is, if you’re in.”

  “Yeah.” The single word was harder to force out than almost anything he’d said in his life, but it filled him with relief. “I’m in. I’ll put my name and face on this opening suit. I’ll even get a hold of my brother in the morning, and tell him.”

  She brushed her lips over his. “Thank you.”

  ****

  Damon made time to drop by their apartment again the next night.

  The three of them talked for hours, making plans, and trying to cover as many preliminary angles as possible. Damon pointed out the concept was still basic, and they’d need add a few bullet points to the list once they had more details, but they could work that all out over the next few weeks. Ethan sent him back to his hotel with the friendliest goodbye they’d parted ways on in years. A few minutes later, he found Jaycie standing on the balcony.

  She didn’t move, when he slid the glass door open. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she leaned back into him, resting her head on h
is shoulder.

  Ethan lay a line of tender kisses along her neck and up to her ear. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “How do you do it?” Her voice barely reached above the chirp of crickets, but she managed to pour tons of weight into the single question.

  “Do what?” His response felt inadequate, compared to the emotion in her tone.

  “Push so hard, with so much raw emotion and force, all the time? I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. Just the last few days have drained me.”

  Did he really come off like that? He nipped lightly at her earlobe. “You’re not expected to go full throttle all the time. I don’t do that. Besides, I’m here when you need a distraction.”

  “That would be now.” She turned in his arms, and rested her hands at the base of his neck. “I never meant to make this into a statement. At least, not before a few days ago.” She brushed her mouth over his, then pulled back again. “I didn’t wake up one day, and say ‘hey, if I write reviews of video games, that’ll be unique and culturally relevant.’ I just wanted to talk about the things I enjoyed doing.”

  He kissed along her throat, and down to her collarbone. “I don’t think most people set out to change the world.”

  She leaned her head back and pressed closer, entire frame rubbing against him. “I know I paint the whole pen name thing like I was annoyed by it, but I never protested or considered putting up a fight, when my first editor suggested a generic pseudonym.” She tickled the short hairs at the base of his neck. “I knew it would take the heat off me. Leave me free to do what I wanted, instead of worrying my gender would mar people’s opinions.”

  “Do you want to walk away from this?” He glided his hands higher, pushing up the bottom of her shirt and brushing her bare waist. “Do you regret what we’re doing?”

  “No. It terrifies me. I don’t know if it’ll be as amazing as we hope, but I don’t regret it.” She pulled his head back up, to look him in the eye. “Do you?”