I’ve been uploading them to OpenMic. These ones are building traction, the views are creeping up daily. I guess there are a lot of mourning, broken-hearted people out there.
A message flashes in the Inbox.
Samantha Dalton, Creative Director, DreamWorks Pictures
Samantha wants to talk about using my music… sure, Samantha, if that’s your real name.
I get flooded with these every day. Samatha will market my songs for a mere five grand cost to me, making me millions!
***
I tilt my head to the side, studying the screen. “They are amazing, Joe.”
“He grins. “I know, right? The board is gonna be blown away.”
I flinch. In a week’s time, we would have to present our roadmap for the products to the Nexus board of directors. There was a possibility that Danny would be part of that, although his schedule is never confirmed until a few days in advance when his team works out what the most important events are for him to attend. He’s usually quadruple booked, and this won’t register as important in his priority list. Karl’s already confirmed his presence is unlikely.
We’ve worked day and night for this presentation for three weeks, and I’m determined not to fuck it up. It’s funny how a broken heart turns you into a workaholic.
“Just a minute Joe.” Tristan’s name flashes on my phone, and I walk over to the side of the office for privacy.
It’s 10 pm London time.
“Hey, sis.” His warm voice floods the phone.
“Hey.” I smile out at the view, happy to hear my big brother’s voice.
“You’ve been ignoring me again,” he scolds.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been swamped on the new roadmap. We are presenting to the board next week, and the design has taken up so much time.” I say excitedly.
“I’m glad to hear the passion in your voice again. I’m worried about you Charlie, you’ve been distant since you’ve been in New York.”
“I’m sorry for being distant.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I just needed some time… after everything….”
There’s a long pause.
“Maybe you should look for another job? There are some IT positions in my firm we need to fill. It’s not healthy working for him after what happened. It’s not normal.”
“I never see him. It’s fine. Right now, I love the role. When I get back to London, I’ll look for another company.”
“Charlie, he’s going to be in New York next week.” Fuck.
The presentation. I was banking on him not attending. I draw in a breath. “How do you know?
Are you talking again?”
“No.” He sighs. “I need time away from him. Jack told me.”
“I wish you would speak to him, Tristan. I’ve done enough damage without wrecking your relationship.”
“None of this was your fault.” he retorts. “He’s older, wiser, he’s the CEO, for damn’s sake.” “What else did Jack say?” My stomach churns as I ask the question.
He lets out a long sigh.
“Jack says he is in a bad way.”
“The stress of the article?”
“No.” He says slowly. “That washed over him. He’s not really telling Jack much, but we think it’s related to you.”
I stiffen. “I doubt that, Tristan. He got over me quickly.”
“How do you know that?”
I don’t want to have this conversation with my brother.
“He slept with our receptionist 3 days after it happened,” I choke out. “Jackie.” The blood leaves my face as I say her name out loud.
He curses under his breath,
“Fucking asshole, I’ll slaughter him.”
“Still, you must have affected him since he paid half a million to keep your name out of the article.”
“He did what?” I ask loudly.
“He paid to keep your name out of the article,” he repeats. “I thought you knew that? He had to pay the reporter something between half a million to a million.” “I didn’t know that,” I whisper, my mind whirling.
“He did the right thing.” He adds begrudgingly. “I’ll give him that.” “It must have been for you,” I say in a small voice. “For your friendship.” He snorts.
“Please, Tristan. The relationship between Danny and I is ruined. But you owe him 20 years of loyalty. Think about how he was there for you through all the drama with bitch Gemina.”
“The article wasn’t his fault. It was mine.” I continued. “I’m a grown woman, and it took two of us to get into that mess. You can’t keep punishing him.”
“I just need time,” he grunts. “He went behind my back.”
“He made one mistake.”
“What happened between you two?” he asks softly. “He’s never taking a girl to Shetland before.”
I sigh. “I thought it was special. I was misreading it.”
“Listen, I have to go,” I say as another call comes up on the screen.
“Bye, sis. Next time, answer my call.”
I press connect on the unknown number; it’s not a New York area code or a UK number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Charlotte Finnegan?” a female American voice drawls down the phone.
“Yes?” I questioned.
“Hi Charlotte, this is Samatha Dalthan from Dreamwork Pictures.”
Danny
“Send them in.” Laura, our Head of Product, nods to Tracey.
We are sitting in the 20th-floor boardroom waiting for Charlie and one of the designers to pitch their ideas for the next generation of Dunley products.
I tap my fingers against the desk, and Karl raises his eyebrows at me to stop.
I keep on tapping.
Tracey comes back into the room flagged by Charlie, and a Ken Doll look alike with white teeth, Joel, I think.
My entire body hardens in response. She is wearing a tight royal blue dress that accentuates the blue/green of her eyes.