“I trust you, Tachina. You know that.” He noddedslowly and blew out a deep breath. “The developers will, too. We’ve spent too much to backpedal based on gossip.”
“Thank you, sir.” She let out a breath. She should have known he would have her back. He had always stood beside her with every project he’d put her in charge of. “That means a lot to me.”
“I’m not sure who is trying to derail this project and years of good work. Whoever it is won’t succeed. You’ve earned this, Tachina. This will put not only you on the map but our studio as well. You have our full support.” He stood and gave her a small wave.
He walked out of the room, and when the door closed behind him, she sagged into her chair.
Whoever it is.
She wished she didn’t know. She wished she could pretend ignorance.
She snagged her cellphone and clicked on the notifications for one of her social media platforms. Immediately, she wished she hadn’t. Articles popped up left and right. There were blogs mimicking legitimate news sources with one of them featuring a video titled:Artisan Avenue Modernization: A Preservation Nightmare?
And right there in the thumbnail preview sat a very familiar blonde female.
Sydney Bridges.
Her hair was curled, her makeup pristine, and her smile sharp like a blade.
Tachina clicked on the video.
Sydney spoke with practiced concern. Her expression showed her worry, and her voice dripped with honey. All of it false. Tachina read right through the act.
“Victor Maxwell is a dedicated father and a valued member of our community. He’s very overwhelmed with two large projects, one here and one in Houston. He’s tirelessly committed to his job and raising his son. I’ve simply helped out where I can.”
She what?
As if Tachina wasn’t alive and well while co-parenting with Vic.
“Rumors suggest the developers are pushing a dramatic modernization that threatens historical value of the area. Are you aware of his stance?” the interviewer asked.
Sydney clasped her hands sweetly and nodded. Tachina rolled her eyes at the woman’s acting. She deserved an Emmy or an Oscar for this performance. It was a wonder the woman hadn’t gone out to Hollywood.
“Victor wants what’s best for the city. I just hope the people around him aren’t pushing him into a decision he might later regret. We’ve been…reconnecting. Working through some things. I support him fully.”
“This bitch.” Tachina paused the video and had to look away from the image of Vic’s ex. How dare she? She was about to scroll away from the footage, but she figured she’d better hear what else she had to say.
“Well, good luck to you both.” The interviewer smiled.
Sydney’s gaze turned directly to the camera where she offered an award-winning smile. “Thank you. I believe things will work out as they should.”
The implied ‘we’re getting back together’ gave Tachina a bad taste in her mouth. Was the woman delusional? Vic spent most of his free time with Tachina.
Or the ‘Tachina is using him’ cut her deep, but she knew that to be far from the truth.
“Oh, this woman is hellbent on getting stomped into the ground,” Tachina muttered. She was never one to resort to violence, but when the situation called for it, she’d show up with her bitch-stomping boots on.
Before she could think twice, she flipped her screen to contacts and hit Vic’s number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hey, baby,” he said. “You miss me so much you couldn’t wait until tonight?”
“That bitch went on camera insinuating we’re taking advantage of you. She’s talking like you two are getting back together. What the fuck!” She was breathing hard. She stood and paced behind her desk. All work was now officially forgotten. Hell, she had a mind to leave and go find the blonde-haired hussy right now. “She’s playing philanthropist saint and dragging me publicly with fucking rumors and implying I’m…I’m…”
“Breathe,” Vic said, calm.
“Don’t tell me to breathe. I’m already doing that. She’s?—”