I prop my hip against the corner of Brent’s desk and hand him a large, iced caramel latte from BeanBag.
Brent grins. “Now, why on earth would my favorite girl be bringing me something from the best coffee spot in the city?”
“Why do I need a reason?” I bat my eyes at him. “Maybe I just thought you deserved a drink as sweet as your handsome, brilliant, talented self.”
Brent tosses his head back laughing. “Keep it coming, doll.” He rolls his hand in a motion for me to continue.
I settle back, crossing my feet at the ankles, and tick off the reasons on my fingers. “You’re the best. You’re the most amazing. You have the best hair. Your clothes are immaculate. Your tie brings out the color of your eyes perfectly.”
“Okay, okay. You’ve convinced me.” He smirks and leans closer to talk quietly. “Just so you can rest easy, know that my lips are sealed. I won’t tell a soul. Just so long as you eventually give me some details.”
“Details?” I ask.
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Is he built the way I imagine he is?”
I slap a hand over my mouth to stop the laugh from falling out. “Oh my god, Brent!”
“What?” He shrugs. “The guy I just started dating actually looks a lot like Vincent, only 20 years younger. Makes me wonder just how similar they are.”
I shake my head. Brent and I have exchanged many emails over the past few days and yesterday for lunch he came down to meet with us lowly folks a few floors down. His man-whore ways are apparently well-known, so I’m not surprised that he’s dating someone new after just ending a relationship. And even though he’s a gossip, I trust him to keep this information safe.
Grinning, I say, “I’d need to be very drunk in order to take this conversation further.”
“Whenever you’re ready, let me know. I’ll bring the tequila.”
“I just bet you would. How does your boyfriend feel about twinning it with your boss?”
Brent scoffs. “Dating, not boyfriend. But honestly, he’d probably get off on it. If I told him about the whole look-a-like thing, he’d want to role play.”
“I can see it now. The spreadsheets. The overuse of Mister.”
“Do go on.” Brent fans himself. “Don’t forget a cute little thing in a classic secretary outfit.” I raise my eyebrows and Brent winks. “We’re equal opportunity lovers. Why limit yourself to one set of naughty bits.”
I laugh again. “I feel like our friendship just leaped over a few steps.”
Brent pats my knee. “Doll, I have no boundaries. I’d apologize, but that’s just the way I am.”
“I picked up on that already.” I smile.
“Brent!”
Vincent’s booming voice has both of us jumping. A squeak of surprise pops out of my mouth as I jolt upwards. My feet are still crossed, so I start to tip over. Before I can correct myself, Vincent’s large hand closes around my upper arm, steadying me.
I glance up at him, but he’s still focused on Brent.
“If you’re done chatting, I’d like to start my meeting. Hold my calls.” Vincent’s tone is clipped with anger.
I don’t fight against his grip as he walks me into his office, but I look back in time to catch Brent fighting a grin. He should be chastised, but for some reason he seems to find this funny. I roll my eyes at him a moment before I pass through the threshold into Vincent’s office.
When Vincent releases my arm to close the door, I remember why I’m here today. And my mood sobers.
I haven’t talked to Vincent since I hung up on him a few days ago. I have however, dwelled on the fact that he has a daughter. Not only for professional, public relation reasons, but also for personal reasons. For the sake of my career, I need to find a way to separate the two. I can’t forget his comment implying that he could fire me. It’s a very real possibility if I continue to push him. Sexual history or not.
We sit at the same time, locking eyes over the top of his desk.
I take a deep breath to gather my courage. “I know your daughter isn’t something you want to discuss, but in order to do my job to the best of my abilities, I need to know everything about you.”
“Everything?” There is no teasing in Vincent’s voice.
“Within reason, yes. You might not see how your family is relevant to my job, but it very well could be. None of this needs to be a big deal. You having a child doesn’t have to be newsworthy. But you hiding the fact that you have a child… That doesn’t look good. It could be construed as you being embarrassed about her, or ashamed of having her. There will be speculation as to why you hid her, and it will cause speculation about her mother. People will want to know the story. And the more you avoid it, the more of a scandal it will become.”
“I’ve kept her away from the press for 11 years. I don’t plan to stop now.” Vincent snaps.
I sigh. “People didn’t know your face before. You could walk down the street with your kid and no one would look twice. But trust me, after we do the press conference next week, everyone will recognize you. And before you try to cancel, remember that this is the best move. Putting you in front of the camera, clearing the air around Mazzanti Enterprises, announcing Marie’s House, this is what your company needs.”
Vincent cuts me off. “I’m not going to parade her around to the press.”
“I’m not suggesting that you have your daughter on stage with you. I’m not even suggesting that you talk about her at the press conference. But we need to prepare for when the media finds out about her. Because they will. Someone will see you two in public. Or someone from her school will recognize you. Or one of your staff members here will say something. They might not tell the media directly, but they could mention the beautiful little girl at their office to their friend or spouse and it goes from there. Those are all situations that we don’t get to control. If someone had found out about her last week and confronted me about your mystery daughter, it would have been obvious that I knew nothing about her. That would’ve been a disaster. You have to see that.”
Vincent stares at me, jaw clenching.
Finally, he blows out a breath. “Her name is Annie. She’s 11. She’s starting 6th grade next year, and you’re right, this is probably going to make her life hell.”
My frustration with him softens. He sounds like a worried father. “It doesn’t have to. It will be a change for sure, but we can manage it. The sooner we can introduce her to the world, the sooner they’ll move on. We can plan something casual where you’ll be photographed together and where we can control the narration. Vincent and his daughter Annie toured the new location for Marie’s House together. Or something like that, and then we move the story on.”
Vincent runs a hand over his face. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” I brace myself for this next question. “What about the mother?”
Vincent drops his hand and narrows his eyes at me. “What about her?”
I swallow. “Who is she? Are you two…”
“Are we what, Sasha?”
He wants me to say it? Fine. “Are you still with her? Are you going to tell me next that you’re secretly married?”
Vincent smirks. “Would that bother you?”
“Yes, it would bother me! It would bother me a great deal to find out that I’m the other woman! It would bother me to know that I’d been with someone who was such a giant asshole!” I catch myself before my voice raises to a shout.
He waits a beat before replying. “I’m not married.”
I stare at him waiting for more of an explanation, but he stays quiet.
I roll my eyes. “Glad we cleared that up. Please, Vincent, give me something here.”
Vincent’s gaze turns cold. “There’s nothing to tell. She’s not around. She has nothing to do with Annie. There will be no names, no details. No exceptions.”
“But…”
Vincent cuts me off again. “She won’t be a problem. And I won’t have anyone talking about her. If they try, it’s your job to deal with it.”
“How are you so sure she won’t be a problem? Is there an NDA involved? Does she have family that might speak out?” I ask.
“This is not a topic that’s up for discussion.”
“Vincent…”
He leans over his desk to interrupt me once more. “Who’s John?”
“What?” My face scrunches up in confusion.
“When I called you Monday night, you answered the phone expecting a John. After 10:00 at night. On an unlisted number.”
My mouth drops open. Is this dipshit for real?
Vincent gestures towards his office door. “Just how many men are you sleeping with, Sasha?”
My eyes follow the gesture. Does he… Does this moron think I’m sleeping with Brent, too?
I slowly get to my feet. “Mr. Mazzanti, I respect the position of power that you have over me. I understand that you hold my career in your hands. I understand that you don’t often get challenged. But you have, once again, gone too far. And before your overactive Neanderthal brain goes further down this jacked up rabbit hole, allow me to set a few things straight.” I gesture towards his office door like he just did. “I don’t know what you think you saw out there, but that was Brent telling me about the guy he’s dating.”
The look on Vincent’s face tells me this fact is a shock to him. Brent does nothing to hide his sexuality. He has a pride flag on his desk for fuck’s sake. If Vincent is surprised by this information, he’s the only one.
I scoff. “He’s bi, you jackass. All you need to do is pay just a little bit of attention to someone other than yourself. And in case you didn’t notice, when Brent chased Annie into your office the other day, it took him all of about two seconds to figure out what we’d been doing in here. I might not know him well, but I’m sure he’s smart enough to not reach for sloppy seconds from his boss.” I lean forward onto the desk. “Not that that will be a concern anymore, because you and I are through.”
I push myself away from his desk and stride to the door. With my hand on the handle, I look back at Vincent. “And John? John is important to me. I love him. And he loves me. Because he’s my fucking brother.”
I yank open the door, making sure to slam it shut behind me.
