Sleeping With The Truth_An Office Love Baby Daddy Romance

by Kelli Walker

  Social media was a godsend in some regards.

  And a Hell’s Kitchen in others.

  However, the second my P.R. department rang through on my phone, I knew it was bad. Something in the pit of my gut told me that when I picked up that phone, circumstances would change. That was the nature of the media. Reaction was never the best defense, but there was only so much I could control half a world away from the problem.

  And I was concerned it wouldn’t be enough.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Mr. Weber, have you seen the latest headline?”

  “Let me guess. The late night hosts are going at it now,” I said.

  “No, Mr. Weber. A local news station out of Miami is running a very interesting headline. I think it’s worth a counter-story.”

  “Why? What’s so bad about it?” I asked as I put them on speakerphone.

  “I sent it to your email, Mr. Weber, because it drags a friend of yours into the mix.”

  I furrowed my brow as I navigated to my email. A friend of mine? What in the world would any of my so-called friends have anything to do with this? I only kept one close friend. A man I’d known for years. I clicked on the message from the head of the department, trying to brace myself for whatever was about to slap me across the face.

  And the headline made my stomach drop.

  New Secretary Dates Man Responsible For Father’s Death?

  “Lynn?”

  “Yes, Mr. Weber?”

  “I’ll call you back.”

  “I’ll be here,” she said.

  I hung up the phone and leaned against the bathroom counter. This was a different story. Not a story focused on some torrid sexual affair, but something much worse. My eyes fluttered across the words as I took in the content of the piece being written. And the further I got into it, the more nervous I grew. The article outlined my time at Instatech, flipping the company for my good friend, Roman Edwards. It mentioned and linked out to various articles on our close friendship, found the one damn article I had allowed on my time there, and then went on to mention the name of a man who worked at the company during my time there.

  Herald Graves.

  The article was horrendous. Multiple sexual harassment lawsuits. Fired without a formal investigation into the filings with Instatech’s H.R. department. The man was a janitor there. Full-time, and had been for years, the article said. But the picture of him was uncanny.

  Fuck me.

  Those eyes were identical to a pair I’d become intimately familiar with.

  My mind flashed back to the conversation I had with Tiffany in the lounge. The dinner after our first day of meetings. All of her questions about Instatech came rushing back to my mind. My friendship with Roman. What I did with my time there. Even the urgency of her voice was obvious the more I thought about it. I figured she was eager to learn. Eager to know more about something I did that not many people were educated on.

  What a fucking idiot I had been.

  I continued to read the article, scrolling through it until it came to the end. It linked out to Herald Grave’s obituary, and curiosity was going to kill me if I didn’t click it. A window popped up on my phone and it loaded the small Miami news article, outlining the man’s life. Where he grew up. What he did for a living. Who he left behind.

  A wife and a daughter.

  “Oh fuck,” I said to myself.

  The obituary mentioned her father ‘succumbing to his demons’, but when I flipped back to the news article, it mentioned alcohol poisoning. All of the pieces slowly began to drop into place. Tiffany’s hesitancy. The conflict in her eyes whenever we were together. Her blatant fear when I showed her the picture the other night.

  I felt anger bubbling in my gut.

  Why didn’t she tell me? I could’ve told her I had nothing to do with something like this. Cleared her mind and ended her little witch hunt, or whatever she thought she was doing. I didn’t even know who the fucking man was! No, it didn’t look good on me as a businessman, but I didn’t make it a point to learn every single fucking person’s name in a company I flipped. I only learned the names of the people I was promoting and firing. They deserved at least that modicum of respect. He was a damn janitor for fuck’s sake. How the hell was I supposed to know about any of this?

  But a part of me hurt for her.

  It was obvious the connections the story was making. The innuendos hidden between the lines. The article was posing that I was responsible for his firing to try and make a company I flipped look better, and that firing led to his drinking. Which led to his death.

  They were trying to paint me as my secretary’s ‘Angel of Death’.

  I turned my phone off and pushed off the bathroom counter. There was only one way to clear all of this up. This was a juicy story. A serious connection that didn’t sit well with me. If the massive media outlets picked this up, it would be everywhere. Her father’s picture would be plastered on national television stations. They would hound Tiffany until she talked. Gave them some sort of quote.

  I had to talk with Tiffany.

  And it seemed, at least for the moment, that I needed to send her home.

  But before I could even get out of my fucking hotel room, my phone dinged in my hand. The kind of ding that sent my stomach flipping during moments like this. I brought the screen up to my face as my eyes scanned the notification, and I could feel every vein in my body drip with anger.

  Breaking News: CEO Kenneth Weber’s New Secretary Has A Dark Family Secret

  Fuck.

  What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  Tiffany

  “Tiffany, how in the world am I supposed to make them go away?”

  “Mom, listen to me. Don’t open the door for anyone, okay? I’m packing up my things and I’m on the first flight out.”

  “How is Herald’s picture on the television? Where did they even get that picture?” she asked.

  “It’s cropped, Mom. Remember that carnival a few years back Dad took us all to? The one in Tampa? It’s a picture of me and him, but they’ve cut me out of the picture.”

  “How did they get that picture?” she asked with a sniffle.

  “It’s on my social media accounts,” I said weakly.

  “They keep knocking on the door. They’re standing on the curb, Tiffany. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Mom, just listen to me. I’ve got Paige coming to check on you. She knows what’s going on. Don’t turn her away, okay? She’s going to call your cell phone when she gets there so you can let her in.”

  “You gave her my cell phone number? Tiffany, that woman-”

  “I don’t care what you think about her right now, Mom!”

  I heard my mother’s muffled cries coming through my phone and it killed me. I knew I was racking up a very serious phone bill I’d never be able to pay off, but I didn’t care. News stations with their cameras were standing on my mother’s front lawn. My damn childhood home was on the fucking television screen!

  I drew in a deep breath and ran around the hotel suite, throwing all my things into my suitcase.

  “Mom. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Paige is a friend of mine, and I know you aren’t familiar with her, but you have to trust me. Until I can get home, she’s the only person I’ve got to check in on you. Just let her in once she calls. That’s all you have to do.”

  “So it’s true,” my mother said.

  “What’s true?” I asked.

  “That man’s responsible for what happened to my Herald.”

  I jammed the rest of my things into my suitcase and quickly zipped it up.

  “Mom, I honestly don’t know,” I said.

  “Those pictures of the two of you-”

  “We’ll address those when I get home. Not over the phone. I needed to call and make sure you were all right.”

  “Well I’m not all right, Tiffany. I’m barricaded in my own home. My pain medication’s running out and my prescription is
ready!”

  “I’m taking care of all that once I land,” I said. “How are you on food?”

  “What?”

  “Food. In the kitchen, Mom. Are you running out of anything?”

  “Uh, n-... no. I don’t-... I don’t think so.”

  “Mom, this next question is important. Are you listening to me?”

  A knock came at the hotel room door and I bit back a groan.

  “What is it?” my mother asked.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Kenneth?”

  That was the only question I cared about. Even if my mother only had suspicions, why in the world had she not told me about this? About any of it?

  I needed to know.

  I needed her to tell me.

  “Your defense of why you were interviewing for the job,” she said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “When you laid out your plan. Why this job was so important and what you could learn. I knew my anger at this man was personal.”

  “And you didn’t think it would be personal for me?”

  “I didn’t think it was right of me to stand in the way of a good opportunity. I figured if you interviewed and it didn’t go well, then I’d tell you. But when you called and told me he’d given you the job on the spot-”

  “You panicked,” I said with a sigh.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I never should’ve kept this from you.”

  Another knock came at the door, and this time it was faster than before.

  “Tiffany?”

  “What was that?” my mother asked.

  “Mom, I have to go. When Paige calls, let her in. I’m getting on the first flight out of here and heading home. I’ll pick up some food, your prescription, and I’ll come straight home. Okay?”

  “Tiffany!”

  “One second!” I exclaimed. “Mom, tell me you understand me.”

  “I hear you. I do. But that’s him, isn’t it?” she asked.

  Another knock came at the door and I was ready to blow the thing wide open in his face. I was seething. Over less than twenty four hours, my entire world had been turned upside down. And now they were dragging my mother through this. Plastering my father’s name and face all over the news. The only thing they were talking about was his firing and his death. Nothing else about his life. Not the loving man he was or the hard-working man he was or how he sacrificed and went without to clothe and feed his only damn daughter.

  Just that he was a drunk that killed himself at the end of his life.

  “I have to go, Mom,” I said. “I love you.”

  Then I hung up the phone and answered the door.

  “You’re here,” Kenneth said.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  Kenneth’s eyes scanned the room before they landed behind me. I turned around and saw my suitcase sitting on the bed. My purse slouched on top of it. I whipped my eyes back over to him and he heaved a heavy sigh. Like he was accepting the fact that it was happening.

  “Can we talk?” he asked.

  “I really don’t think you want to do that right now,” I said.

  “I really do.”

  I snickered and shook my head as I walked away from the door. I needed to find my shoes and get the hell out of Switzerland. Kenneth shut the door behind him as I sat on the edge of a chair, jamming my feet into my shoes and refusing to make eye contact with him.

  “This was all one massive mistake,” I said.

  “Why didn’t you just ask?”

  I gritted my teeth as I reached for my coat.

  “You know, my father didn’t do what he was accused of doing,” I said.

  “Why didn’t you ask me if I had anything to do with your father’s firing?”

  “Someone set him up,” I said. “And he drank himself to death over it. Women filed false claims against my father, and one measly local article ruined his chances at a job forever. Do you know what that did to my family.”

  “You aren’t answering my question, Tiffany.”

  “Because why the hell would you even tell the truth?” I asked as I stood from the edge of the chair. “Why would a rich man like you ever have a need to tell the truth? My father was nothing but a janitor at Instatech. Easy to frame. Easy to pin something like this on. Departments in companies like that don’t care about their fucking janitors.”

  “I care about my fucking janitors,” he said.

  “Oh really? Then where was that care when you were at Roman’s company, huh? The look on your face tells me you’re at least trying to cover something up.”

  “There’s nothing to cover up, Tiffany. I didn’t know of anything even remotely like this going on during my time there.”

  “Then you’re just a shitty CEO, Weber. Because with as many morals as you brag to have and the type of ‘ethical code’ you want to run the company under, you really mean to convince me that all of this was happening right under your nose and you didn’t know about it!?”

  I watched Kenneth clench his jaw and I knew I had him.

  “It’s pathetic,” I said. “My father was set up, and it cost him any future job and his life. Instatech stole my father from me, and you were at the helm when it happened. Own up to that. Admit that. Digest that. Because whether or not you like it, it happened. And if you really want to try and convince me you didn’t know what was going on, then you really are as opaque as some of my professors thought you were.”

  Tears welled in my eyes and I looked away. I wasn’t going to let him see me cry. I’d done enough crying over this, and now that everything was out in the open maybe I’d get some answers. The media could be a powerful force if leaned on heavily enough. Maybe all of this torment would finally expose what really happened at that damn company when my father was framed and fired.

  I strode over to the bed and grabbed my suitcase. I slid it from the bed and made my way for the door before something warm wrapped around my arm. I felt a tug, and it caused my body to turn on a dime. One quick tug and I was staring into the eyes of a man that made me feel more conflicted and more confused than any other person I’d ever met in my entire life.

  “Because of this story, I know you’ll have to fire me,” I said. “Because of this story, there are media hounds on my front lawn, broadcasting the facade of my house with my mother trapped inside of it.”

  His grip loosened and I settled back down onto my feet.

  “My mother, with her bad back and her dwindling pain medication. Cornered, like an animal. I’m the sole provider for my home. Have been since my father drowned himself in beer and booze. And this mistake that’s now been broadcasted to the general public will cost me my job, my reputation, and any chance I could ever have of finding a solid, reputable career anywhere in the state of fucking Florida.”

  I took a step back from Kenneth as a lone tear brewed and escaped before I could catch it.

  “Everything is ruined,” I said breathlessly. “I’ll never be able to open a business in Miami. Or anywhere, for that matter. I’ll never find a job that will give me the benefits I need to get my mother what she’s owed after so many companies used and abused her for being a working woman. This… this thing between us? It’s relegated me to the life you relegated my father to the moment you fired him.”

  “I didn’t know,” Kenneth said.

  “Then you've relegated me to the life you relegated my father to the moment you decided he wasn’t good enough for you to get to know,” I said.

  I tossed my room key onto the table next to the door and turned to walk out. I felt my knees weakening. I felt my emotional resolve crumbling. I wasn’t going to do that in front of him. I wasn’t going to become the weak little girl I was the day my father died. The day my father was buried.

  I didn’t feel strong, but I would at least project the notion that I was.

  “I’ll have the jet gassed up and ready to go for you,” Kenneth said.

  “I’m not using your resources any longer,” I said.

&n
bsp; “Then at least use the company card to pay for a first-class ticket home, Tiffany.”

  I stood in the hallway, my suitcase propping the door open behind me.

  “You’re still an employee of this company and until you descend into United States airspace, you’re still on a business trip. Use the company card and fly yourself home comfortably.”

  I felt without another word to him. I had nothing else to say. No words to speak, no accusations to throw, and no more malice to chew on. I was tired. Worn down. Worried for my mother. But most of all, I was scared.

  Because I didn’t know what I was going to be walking into when I got home.

  Kenneth

  “Mr. Weber, there have been some very interesting articles being run about you today.”

  “Are they true?”

  “Where is Miss Graves now?”

  “I think it would be in our best interest to table these discussions until further notice.”

  The meetings were brutal, and the tragic thing was I didn’t expect them to be any different. The only good thing coming from all this is that we already had contracts in place to get us through the end of the year. But none of the other meetings I had prepared for the entire fucking week were taking place. If the client didn’t call to cancel, they roped me into the meeting only to ask me questions about the news articles. Was I sleeping with my secretary? Where was she now? Was she going to stay on staff amid the salacious allegations?

  Like we’d fucking had sex right there in the middle of the damn road.

  I slammed into my hotel room and ripped my suit coat off. I slid my suspenders from my shoulders, poured me a very tall glass of scotch, and stood at the windows. Fuck. None of this was good. And in the States, the story was currently on its second news cycle. Other country’s national stations where Casual Recreations did business had now picked up the story, and everywhere from Germany to Australia and back again were talking about my fucking hand on the small of her damn back.