The Rule Book (Rule Breakers #1)(56)

The anger I’d pushed aside tugged me under so quickly that I thought I might drown in it. Yes, I understood he was pissed the account got hacked, but if he believed me, he should direct that attitude somewhere else. I tamped down my temper and took a deep breath. There was no use making the situation worse by calling him out. “I will.”

“And for God’s sake, change your password.” His eyes searched mine, and after a few moments he let out a deep breath and sat back in his chair. “Next time I can’t let it go. No matter how I feel about you. Are we clear?”

I nodded. “Crystal.” But I didn’t even do it, I wanted to scream. How had all my strikes been used up when I hadn’t even made it to bat? The real world sucked ass.

“Contact Craig’s agent and tell him to issue a formal apology. You clean up the social media mess in the meantime.”

“Right. On it.” I stuck to simple words. Ones that wouldn’t allow me to elaborate or somehow get myself into more trouble. Ones that wouldn’t show how close to tears I was.

By the time I got back to my desk, Jackson was nowhere in sight, and I’d formulated a plan to issue a public apology on Craig’s account. The best way to go about it, I figured, was to tell the truth. The account was hacked, and then hopefully all would be forgiven.

I frowned and sat down in my chair, trying to not let what just happened rattle me. After changing my password, I pulled up Craig’s profile and tapped out a quick response to this morning’s events.

@craig_willington: So sorry to Gordy and everyone who saw that horrible post this morning. My account was hacked. I have nothing but respect for Gordy and his family.

Jackson strode through the elevator doors as I hit send on the message, and he swaggered over to my desk.

“Figured I’d do you a favor and grab a box from the mail room. This should be enough for all your worldly possessions.” He shoved an empty one over my keyboard.

I glared at him and pushed it back against his chest. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

He tossed the box at the end of his desk and plopped down in his chair. “What the hell happened, anyway? You get a little text-happy with the social media?”

I threw my hands in the air. Enough was enough. This guy had his lunch money stolen as a kid? I got it, it sucked, but I didn’t need to be brought down because of his insecurity issues. “You know what? I don’t have time for your crap today. Save it for someone who cares.”

I really hoped Brogan found out who hacked Craig’s account, because I had a sinking feeling that I might already know who it was. And I’d love to see him kicked off his high horse.

He hesitated for a second, sucking in his cheeks and staring off into space. “Funny, all the sudden I’m feeling very thirsty. I could really go for a soy latte.”

I stared at him, blinking slowly, not quite believing what I was hearing. Oh, he really was just the icing on top of this shittastic day. Everything in me screamed to tell him just where he ought to shove his latte. Instead, I pushed back from my chair and stalked over to his desk. I leaned over his computer and whispered, “It wouldn’t hurt to be nice to someone for once. Maybe you’d actually make friends.”

He looked up at me, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water before he finally fixed his face into his normal sneer. “Extra hot—”

“Yes, ‘and don’t forget the soy or you’ll be fired.’ Got it.” This guy just didn’t let up. I wondered if the rod up his ass needed to be surgically removed and maybe he was irritable twenty-four-seven due to anal chaffing. I sped to the elevator and jammed my thumb on the down button.

By the time I returned with Jackson’s pristine, untouched soy extra hot latte, I’d managed to cool off a bit about this morning. “Well, I guess I need to face the music,” I muttered. I’d seen people torn apart online for less, but I was hoping they’d spare Craig this once.

I pulled up Craig’s social media account and stared. Thousands of new followers. Fans leaving supportive comments. Even Gordy responded with a “No worries, man.”

Well, crap. This couldn’t have turned out any better if I’d tried. Not that I particularly liked being hacked. Hopefully Brogan found out who did it soon. But with Craig’s new followers, I might as well make the best out of the situation. It was time to post something to keep them reading.

I opened a blank post, the cursor blinking over the text box. Think. Coming up with social media posts for someone I only knew through his iCloud was tougher than I’d have thought before being hired. I wanted him to come off warm, keeping his southern charm—which, as a Portland girl, I had none of. I’d pulled up a few other country stars’ accounts this past week and studied which posts were the most popular with viewers. Shirtless pics won by a landslide, followed by sweat-soaked shirts from performances. Definitely not posts involving the word moist. That would land me jobless in a matter of minutes at the rate I was going.

If my life this week could be summed up by a hashtag, it’d be #headdesk or #epicfail. Fortunately, I had a chance to redeem myself in Brogan’s eyes, and I would do so by continuing to build Craig’s following this week.

I spent the remainder of the morning and early afternoon creating posts for Craig and two of my other clients.

By lunchtime, I’d pounded out four posts and had a migraine looming in the periphery of my frazzled brain. Zoey had called two times this morning, but my phone was on silent. I listened to my messages and fought the urge to let out a scream.