Betting on Bailey

“I was up,” he says. “And I saw the tabloids. You want to find out who took that photo?”

“Yes. And I need the answer by tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll do what I can.” His voice is calm. “We can discuss my fee when I deliver results. Who would have motive to do this?”

“My money’s on my Uncle Cyrus. I threatened to fire him on Saturday night.”

“Okay, that’s a place to start. I’m assuming the game room is in your place? I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

* * *

I hesitate before making my next call. I need to talk to Bailey and Sebastian. I was the person that was paranoid about publicity, and ironically, I’m the person who has broken their trust. Now, they are caught up in my battle with Cyrus, and I hate that I’ve put them in the middle of this.

Bailey doesn’t have tenure. If her name gets revealed, her job is at risk. Sure, I could wave my magic wand and the university wouldn’t fire her because a hundred and fifty million dollars is a lot of money, but she’d still be the subject of scrutiny and whispered gossip among her colleagues.

And though Sebastian has posed bare-chested for his book cover, he prefers to avoid the spotlight, letting his food do the talking for him. Still, a scandal like this is probably good for Sebastian. In his business, the only bad publicity is when a restaurant fails a health inspection.

Bailey. I need to call Bailey first. She has more to lose.

Before I can dial, the phone rings in my hand. I pick it up before my brain registers the caller. It’s my Uncle Cyrus. It takes effort to keep my voice calm and collected, but against all odds, I succeed. “How can I help you, Cyrus?”

“I saw the tabloids,” he says, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “I thought I told you to keep things quiet, Danny.”

My mother calls me Danny when she’s either feeling very fond of me, or very exasperated with me. Cyrus does not get to call me that.

“The board’s convened an emergency meeting,” he continues. “I thought you should know.”

I don’t tell him Sally’s already informed me. I just wait for him to proceed, to tell me why he’s really calling me. His next words reveal his true intent. “This might be the time, Danny, to think about what’s best for the company. If I were you, I’d resign.”

“Would you?” My tone is cool.

“I would indeed,” comes the too-quick reply. “This isn’t just about you. Think about the employees of Hartman. When the stock price plummets, that’s their future that you are playing dice with.”

Please. Wall Street gives a fuck about only one thing. Earnings. They wouldn’t give a shit if I were caught fucking a goat in the middle of Penn Station, as long as Hartman hit or exceeded their quarterly earnings target. The corporate world is not America’s morality police.

No - this is just Cyrus, trying to play on my love for the company that my dad gave his life for. This is Cyrus wanting my job.

Then he plays his trump card, and all the fight leaves me. “And think about the girl. Bailey Moore, right? How would it look for a professor without tenure to be photographed in such a compromising position? The university trustees will be exceedingly displeased.”

“How do you know who she is?” My voice is very quiet.

He clears his throat. “She was at the company party on Saturday, wasn’t she?” I can hear the lie in his voice. “Someone introduced us.”

How far will Cyrus go? I think I’ve just received my answer. He’ll ruin Bailey’s life, without hesitation, in order to become the CEO of Hartman.

If he was responsible for the camera, and I’m certain he is, he has photos and videos of Bailey.

I was going to fight, and I would have won. It would have been ugly, but I would have prevailed. But I can’t do it without destroying Bailey’s life.

The world is a cruel and unfair place. People will give Sebastian and me a free pass. Boys will be boys, and all that. Bailey, however, will be branded a slut and worse. I can’t let that happen. I care far too much about her.

36

One of the deep secrets of life is that all that is really worth the doing is what we do for others.