“Yes,” the man says tightly. “Sorry. This is Peter?—”
I laugh in disbelief. “Where is Jack?”
“I’m the head of media at Halcyon, Dakota,” he explains. “Jack is currently in a meeting with one of the top PR firms inthe company. We’re planning a multi-pronged strategy, and we thought it would be best if we fold you into our existing plan.”
“Good luck with that.”
I hang up, furious. What game does Jack think he’s playing, having his lackey call me? He hasn’t even reached out to make sure I’m okay. It’s ridiculous.
I text him.
Dakota: Jack, call me immediately. Just you.
“Fold me into it,” I mutter. Like I’m just a tiny piece of debris in the wave that is their business. What aboutmybusiness? What about whatIbuilt?
I call Mara, pacing anxiously around my apartment. “The world’s a joke for women,” I hiss. “It’s aprank. All these years, avoiding overtly sexual stuff, wearing a few outfits here and there, sure, but not goingtoo far. I was so careful, for so many years, then a guy comes along and… I just forget. It was too easy to forget.”
“Take a breath, Dakota,” she says. “I can hear you ramping yourself up.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” I demand. “It’s pathetic. My stream is over.”
“You don’t know that.”
“If I went live right now, what do you think the chat would be like?”
“Not good,” Mara admits. “But maybe you can…”
“What, hon?”
“I don’t know. I’m just trying to help.”
“I know,” I say, softening my voice. “I’m just struggling to see a way out of this.”
Unfortunately, Mara has to return to work. I spend the next ten minutes pacing and reading ugly comments online. When my apartment buzzer goes off, I rush to the intercom. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” Jack says, sounding like a different person to the one I made love to just hours ago.
“I’m letting you up,” I say, keeping my voice cold. Maybe he learned his lesson. He had hisguycall me. Like I’m just one of his employees. Like my say doesn’t matter.
Jack knocks on my door. I open it to find him standing with a fierce, anxious expression. His eyes dart all over the place as though looking for an escape. He steps through the threshold and reaches out for a hug. But something about it annoys me. It’s like he’s doing it out of duty, like he thinks he has to.
I take a step back, folding my arms. He doesn’t even look hurt. More… distracted. Can I blame him? I mean, Iamblaming him, so I guess the answer is yes.
“You should get dressed,” he says.
“Excuse me?”
“Baby, we need to?—”
“Don’t call mebabyif you’re going to make it sound painful,” I snap.
“We’ve got things to discuss. There’s a team ready to coordinate our response. If we handle this together?—”
“No,” I say flatly. Suddenly, there are tears in my eyes. “No, Jack. Don’t you see what you’re doing?No.”
“I’m trying to save us,” he growls. “My company. Your stream. A coordinated?—”
“No,”I cut in. “How many times do I have to say it? No, no, no, no, no,fuck no. Is that clear enough? This is my business. I built this. I won’t let youdictatehow I save it.”