The Rule Book (Rule Breakers #1)(55)

Under his offensive message, where he actually tagged Gordy in the post (lord have mercy), hundreds of people commented things like:

Ohhhh do you need some ice for that burn?

LOLOLOLOL hella funny dude.

Fuck you, Craig! Leave Gordy’s mama alone.

U lost respect from me, buddy.

Topping it off was a comment from Gordy himself saying, “What the hell, man?”

To make it worse, a few celebrity gossip sites had made note of Craig’s dig at Gordy’s mother and speculated as to why. I quickly deleted the message, but the damage had already been done. The internet was forever, and even if Craig hadn’t written this, people would forever think he rammed his combine into Mama Gordy’s hayfield.

Before I could say anything more to Jackson, my intercom buzzed.

“In my office. Now.” Anger bubbled over Brogan’s voice, and my pulse hummed against my temples as I tried to collect myself and decide what I was going to tell him. I didn’t even know what to say, not when I’d just found out about a mistake I wasn’t sure I made until two seconds ago.

Something told me there would be no cookie making in the near future.

Jackson’s brows rose, and a wicked smile played at his lips as I strode toward Brogan’s office. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

As I stood in front of the glass doors, I took a deep breath and steeled myself. How had I managed to mess up a post without even trying? Major damage control would be needed to fix this, starting with a few apology posts as soon as I left Brogan’s office.

“Sit down.” Brogan’s gaze was focused on his computer as I walked into the room. Just the other night, we’d been doing the same thing, although when he’d previously asked me into his office, it was under much different circumstances. I much preferred those right about now.

I made my way over to the swivel chair across from him and gingerly sat on the cushion, waiting for him to go off on me.

I tapped my foot nervously as I waited for him to speak. After a few long moments of silence, he finally looked up, his angry gaze lighting a fire under my skin. Even under all that anger, his eyes softened the slightest bit when he regarded me. Keeping my feelings for him under lockdown was hard enough, and it looked like he was struggling with this as well. Sweat beaded at my hairline and behind my knees, and I shifted uncomfortably.

“What was that post all about?” he demanded. He pointed to his computer. I didn’t need to look at the screen to know what he was talking about.

Somehow I didn’t think um, I don’t remember writing this would fly in terms of an explanation. “I don’t know yet, but it shouldn’t have happened. I deleted it as soon as I got into the office.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “We never allow celebrities to humiliate other celebrities—especially when they are both our clients.” His tone was clipped and cold, devoid of any feeling.

I took a deep breath and pushed away the urge to cower. I was a big girl, and I needed to handle this mess like one. “I know.”

He tapped his fingers on his desk in a quick, staccato rhythm. His pained expression was a swift kick to my gut. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t fire you right this second,” he said. A war of anger and betrayal battled in his eyes. For all intents and purposes, my ass should have been kicked to the curb five minutes ago.

My cheeks flamed, and I tugged at my shirt, trying to get cool airflow to my burning skin. What the heck was I supposed to do about this when I didn’t even know about it until a few minutes ago? I’d managed to screw up my client’s account without even trying.

No. This wasn’t my fault. I’d earned this damn job, and I wasn’t about to lose it because of a rogue post I wasn’t even responsible for. I’d worked too hard, put up with so much, missed so many moments with my mom when she was at her worst. My pulse hammered in my temples, and the room blurred at the thought that all I’d built in these months of working my ass off, advancing my career, could crumble in a matter of seconds.

Now was not the time to let emotions get the best of me. I pushed my hurt and anger at being wrongfully accused aside for a second to contemplate what had happened. Technology-inept Craig sure as hell didn’t write the post, which begged the question—who, then? “Because I didn’t write it.”

He cocked his head. “Well, then who did?”

My hands flew up as I said, “I don’t know.” I frowned. “Which bothers me. Obviously, Craig’s account got hacked. I don’t know why, but I don’t think it was random.” I caught his gaze and tried to convey how sincerely sorry I was that this happened, and to let him know that it hurt me that he’d even think I’d do something like this to a client. I didn’t have the tech savvy to find out who was responsible for this. The person sitting across the desk staring daggers at me did, though. “Can you look into it for me?”

“Yes, I’ll have someone investigate.” He swallowed hard and I could tell he wanted to believe what I was saying. “Have you changed your password weekly?”

“No.”

His shoulders tensed, and he splayed his hands flat on the desk. “Lainey, that’s in the manual. I’ll do work on my end, but you need to find a way to fix this by the end of the day.” The or else at the end of the sentence was definitely implied, his voice as sharp as a broken glass.