Bryce: Ex-Business: An Ex-Club Romance
Page 16
“Now that we’ve gone through all the pleasantries, perhaps we can get to the reason I hauled my ass all the way here. Tell me, what’s this you heard about a new media corporation?”
“Is it true?” Jodie asks with a taunting smile.
“You first.”
“So it is true,” she confirms with glee. I mentally kick myself, but make sure my face stays strictly in the mode of poker. Jodie waits it out for a few seconds before sighing with a laugh. “Corey Waters from International. He was the one to call me to find out if I was planning on staying on as editor if Obsessed was picked up by this new venture. I had no idea what he was talking about, so naturally, I had him give me all the sordid details. Shame on you for not coming to me first, Bryce. I’m personally hurt. Not that I expect Conniver to get rid of Obsessed, one of its most popular publications.”
Corey works at International Male, a gay magazine, focused on the jet-set, party crowd. It’s one of the titles Edie and I are considering bringing into the fold.
The only problem is, I know neither of us has said anything to any other magazines yet.
So how the hell does Corey know about it?
“And how did he find out about this supposed endeavor?” I ask her in a neutral tone.
Before she can answer, our drinks are back.
“We need a moment,” I say, cutting the waiter short just as he opens his mouth to ask if we’d like to order food.
When he’s gone, I turn my attention back to Jodie. “So?”
“Some company called Cheval Blanc Media. Sexy name, but then everything in French usually is.”
“Très vogue,” I say with a dull but taunting smile.
Jodie’s eyes burn and she tightens her mouth into a thin line. She drowns it with a long sip of her drink. She hates playing second fiddle to the far more popular fashion magazine of that name.
I probably shouldn’t poke her ego this way, but I’m feeling a bit pissed off right about now. Not to mention bewildered.
Cheval Blanc Media? What kind of name is that? Certainly not one I would have come up with. I’m not even French. It reeks of pretension.
So, who the hell is behind it? And furthermore—
“Wait a second, how did my name get mentioned in all of this?”
“Corey said you were the first magazine involved, in fact, you were the name behind the whole endeavor.”
“That’s news to me. Has it occurred to you that he’s fucking with you?” I say before taking a sip of my beer. Corey Waters is a notorious meddler, which is why I was at first hesitant to involve him with the enterprise Edie and I are thinking of starting. But International Male is the perfect diversification and the potential for the crossover is definitely there.
“Over something this serious?” she asks in surprise. “Knowing Corey, maybe. This is why I insisted he have them get in touch with me directly. I hate not being in the innermost circle.”
“So you talked to someone from Cheval Blanc?” I say, perking up.
She gives me a smug smile. “I did.”
“And?” I press when she leaves that hanging.
“And what? They offered to discuss including me in the fold should Conniver let Obsessed go. Frankly, I was quite tempted, especially once I heard you were part of the deal.”
I’m still racking my brain trying to figure out who is undermining Edie and me. I’ve only told Lucien and Smith, both of whom I trust. Granted, one more than the other. But even then, neither of them have the fortitude to start something so ambitious as a rival company. Lucien is happy with his life as a photographer. Smith knows fashion, but very little about business.
So who has Edie told?
I sip to consider that thought. If she’s the one with a mole in her own house, it will crush her. That makes me suddenly realize Jodie hasn’t mentioned anything about Edie yet.
“What other magazines are involved in this?”
She turns down the sides of her mouth and shrugs. “I have no idea.”
“So…no other women’s magazines?”
“If there were, I certainly wouldn’t expect Obsessed to be a part of it,” she says tersely.
I nod with understanding. It’s one of the reasons Edie and I weren’t considering Obsessed, at least not until we’d covered all the other categories that weren’t already filled: home & garden, sports, travel, etc. Basically whatever Conniver is hanging out to dry.
“The question is,” Jodie says, loudly enough to bring me out of my thoughts, “is someone using your name as the figurehead without you knowing?”
I don’t bother answering that. It’s obvious that she already figured that out, considering my reaction. Not that it matters in the scheme of things. If someone is already poaching our target list before Edie and I have even gotten off the ground, we’re screwed.
“You’ll be happy to know that, considering these nefarious shenanigans obviously going on behind the scenes, I now have no intention of getting involved with this Cheval Blanc.” She smiles as though waiting for a word of gratitude. I suppose I owe her something considering how much she’s enlightened me.
“Thanks for the information, Jodie. I really need to get back and—”
“Oh no you don’t!” she protests. “You invited me to lunch, and lunch we are going to have.”
“You invited me, and obviously I have some important business to take care of so—”
“You’ll stay if you want me to work behind the scenes to find out more about this Cheval Blanc,” she says in a cunning voice.
That’s enough to give me pause.
“I thought so,” she says primly before lifting her hand to get the waiter’s attention.
“Listen, Jodie, I appreciate what you’ve done but—”
“Don’t worry, Bryce, I’m not going to try and fuck you,” she says, rolling her eyes.
The waiter who has just arrived blinks once at that announcement then goes straight back to being a professional. I doubt that’s the most scandalous thing he’s heard in this city, especially working at the restaurant attached to The Standard Hotel.
Jodie ignores me in favor of the menu.
I consider my options from here. There are still questions to be answered. If anything, I have more questions now than when I arrived. Someone is obviously working against me, and perhaps Edie as well. They’re also using my damn name to undermine me. Having an inside man, or woman in this case, isn’t such a bad idea. If it means having lunch—and only lunch—then I suppose it’s not too much to ask.
I sigh and pick up the menu.
When the waiter has taken our orders and leaves, Jodie is back to being Jodie.
“So tell me more about this Lucien Jameson that you work with…”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Edie
I’m with the advertising department, listening to more bad news. Subscriptions have already begun a tiny but worrisome downward trend, which will only snowball once the public believes they won’t get their full year’s worth of magazines.
This, in turn, affects our most important source of revenue: ads.
That, in turn, affects morale in the department and already the head has had some preemptive requests to be a reference should anyone leave for calmer waters.
I think that bourbon pecan pie ice cream with a hefty dose of cognac is going to be needed tonight, school night or not. Even after dinner with Dad, who usually joins forces with Sergio to dote on me like I’m still five years old. It’s only a little after noon and I want nothing more than to fall into bed. I’m seriously thinking of rescheduling, but I know I’d never hear the end of it. Dad and I made this promise to one another. Both of us have busy lives and this is the one thing we hold sacred, no matter what.
I’m already slightly frazzled and drained when I come back to my office and listen to my messages from the phone I always leave behind. It’s the one from Bryce that perks me back up:
Edie, apparently word has gotten out. Call me!
I call him back.
“Edie!” He says, as though wondering where in the hell I’ve been. Apparently forgetting that I too have a magazine to run. For now.
“What is it, Bryce? You sounded—”
“Someone knows. Not just that, but there’s another corporation already in the works doing the same thing we are. They’ve already gotten in touch with at least two magazines.”
“What?” I ask, all hints of fatigue evaporating. I shoot out of my chair and begin pacing. “What corporation? How do they know? What the hell is going on?”
He proceeds to tell me about his lunch with Jodie Armstrong—A factoid that sent a nice little bristle through my feathers. Everyone knows what Jodie is like—and details everything she told him.
By the time he’s done, I’m back in my chair, more pooped than ever.
“Maybe it’s just a coincidence? I mean, what we’re thinking of isn’t exactly novel,” I suggest.
“And using my name? My magazine,” he rages.
I bite my lip in consideration of that. It’s a worrisome and strange factor.
“So, obviously someone spilled the beans and either fully expects you to join this Cheval Blanc Media or they are trying to mess with your reputation. Any ideas who?” I ask.
I don’t want to state the obvious, since I’m sure Bryce has already thought of it himself—that it must have been one of the people he told.
“The people that you told, how loyal are they to you?” Apparently, he has the same idea about me.
I sit up straighter in my chair. “Why would you assume it’s one of my people?”
“I’m not accusing you of anything, Edie,” he says patiently. “I just—I trust my people. And I only told two of them.”
“And I trust my people. Besides, as you said, my name wasn’t even mentioned.”
“That could have been by design, to throw us off the scent.”
A fair point, but I’m feeling irritable. “Well, I’m glad to see you think I’m such a terrible judge of character, Bryce.”
“I didn’t—Edie, there’s no reason to fight over this.” Now his patient tone is grating.
“You’re right, there isn’t. In fact, I should probably drag my editors to the gulag and torture them into confessing.”
“Now, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Have you even questioned the people you told?”
He pauses before answering. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
“I see. So, for all you know, it could be them.”
“These are my friends, Edie. The people you told are just…” He wisely leaves the rest of that off.
Not that I’m inclined to let it go at that. “Just employees. Is that what you were going to say?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I meant, if you understood how close I am to these two, you’d know it wasn’t them.”
“So because I’m not BFFs with the people I work with, they couldn’t possibly be trusted to keep this to themselves.” I know I’m reaching, but right now I’m feeling pretty damn elastic.
I hear him exhale in frustration on the other end. “Since you’re so insistent on putting words into my mouth, fine. Yes, I think that my friends, one of whom I’ve known since school, are more trustworthy than people who are nothing more than employees whose careers are on the line.”
I inhale sharply. I hadn’t expected him to come back quite that hard. I take a moment to breathe in and out, counting to ten in my head before I respond.
“This isn’t productive,” I say in a curt voice. “I suggest we both do a little investigating before we continue to say things we might regret.”
“Listen, Edie, I didn’t mean—”
“No, let’s stop right here. I’ve got dinner with my dad. It’ll run late, so I probably won’t stop by tonight.”
“Edie...”
“Bye, Bryce.”
I hang up before he can respond. My eyes focus on the walls of my office and I idly stare out at the employees of Contempo Woman.
As much as it hurt, Bryce did have a point. I trust Nicole and Veronica, but both have their careers to think about. If this Cheval Blanc Media has already tapped into International Male and Obsessed then they are already two steps ahead of us. Most importantly, they obviously have funding.
Is this some two-handed play by Conniver, moving titles into a different subsidiary? But why? Even for the most convoluted tax or profit motives, it doesn’t make sense. And why not just be open about it? It would certainly temper the crazy, zig-zag rise and fall their “confidential” notice sent their stock price into.
I feel the stress begin to wear on me, making me seriously consider a nap of all things.
Instead, I feel a dose of adrenaline hit my veins as I think about the two people I have to interrogate. It has to be done. If only to prove to Bryce that I was right.
Or maybe just to myself.
Chapter Thirty
Bryce
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I look at the phone, seeing that Edie has hung up, and I toss it onto my desk.
It’ll be the first night that I haven’t spent with Edie in over a week. Already, I hate the prospect.
I consider calling her back, but I already know that’s a bad idea. At least until I’ve made one-hundred percent sure it wasn’t Smith or Lucien who violated my trust.
Smith is here in the office as usual.
Lucien is out on assignment for some other publication, being the freelancer that he is. I decide to call him to see if he’s free for dinner tonight or at least a quick drink. I get his voicemail, which is no surprise, and ask him to call back.
Still feeling antsy, I shoot out of my chair and storm out to find Smith. He’s in the layout room, laughing with a few of the assistants.
“Hey, Smith, you got a second?”
“Aye, Capitan,” he says with an odd expression. It occurs to me that my voice may have been a bit demanding.
I force a smile to my face. “My office.”
On the way back, I temper my nerves into some semblance of normal operations. My conversation with Edie still has them on edge.
“What is it?” Smith asks once we’re both seated.
I’ve been pondering how to pose this, and decide to dance around with it, rather than storm right out the gate with accusations.
“I was just wondering if you’d had any offers from other magazines or companies? It’s not a problem if you have, I completely understand and I’m fully supportive if you decide to jump ship, considering the circumstances.”
“Is this your way of telling me I’m being sacked?” he asks, shooting straight up in his chair.
“What?” I say, my eyes going wide. “No, of course not!”
I breathe out a long, exasperated breath and force my palms into my closed eyes to take a moment. When I remove them, Smith is still giving me a wary stare.
“You’re not being fired, Smith,” I say tiredly. “Relax.”
I stare at him, realizing that getting right to the point is the best way about this in retrospect. “Who have you told about my idea to start a media corporation?”
“No one,” he says with a bewildered look. “It was meant to be top secret, no?”
“It was. And yet, someone is out there using my name to start another corporation doing the same thing.”
“Well, it wasn’t me,” he says, looking believably shocked.
I stare at him, studying him for any duplicity, and find none.
“What would I possibly have to gain by telling? I’d much rather work for you than some other, completely unfamiliar outfit. Some micromanager who doesn’t give m
e nearly as much freedom as you do? I’m quite happy where I’m at, Bryce. If I wasn’t, I’d just leave. I certainly wouldn’t betray you while I do.”
I heave a long sigh. “Right. I’m sorry to have accused you, it’s just—”
“I get it, I’m one of two people you’ve told. And of the two of us, you’ve known me the shortest period of time.”
“I fully plan on interrogating Lucien the same way.”
Smith grins. “I gather he has even less to gain by betraying you.”
He’s right. Which only makes this so much more damn frustrating.
“Does the name Cheval Blanc mean anything to you?”
His face wrinkles with concentration. “French, yes? White…horse?”
That isn’t what I mean, but I file the translation away in my head. “So you’ve never heard the name before now?”
He shakes his head with puzzlement. “Should I have done?”
“Never mind,” I say with a grim set to my mouth. By now, my gut is firmly telling me he’s as clueless about this as I am. And I trust my gut.
“Don’t mention anything about this to anyone, okay? Not the name nor this discussion about another media corp.”
“Of course,” he says, giving me a worried look.
“And don’t worry. Everything will be fine,” I say trying to give him my best look of confidence.
He only seems half convinced but nods anyway before leaving.
About half an hour later Lucien calls me back. I think about grilling him right then and there, but realize it’s best if I can see his reaction. Besides, he deserves the same treatment I gave Smith.
“Hey, I was wondering if you were free for drinks or dinner tonight?”
“I got this post-shoot party that I’m being paid extra to take candids at. This one’s worth it but it won’t be over until at least ten, if not later.”
“As it turns out my night is wide open if you’re not too tired.”
“For you, my friend, never,” he says and I can picture the grin on his face. It makes me feel kind of shitty, but this needs to be done.