The Mogul and the Muscle: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(58)

Brandy was already typing and by the way her eyes widened, I could tell she’d found something. She met Cameron’s gaze and nodded.

“Is this an issue?” Cameron asked.

“The spin isn’t great,” Brandy said.

“If you need help with this, Cami, say the word. Or if you need a distraction, I can do that too.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

This guy was such a joke, I didn’t even bother growling at him.

“Get Derek Price on the phone.” Cameron turned and went back into her office.

Bobby cast a nervous glance at me, then put on his sunglasses. “I’ll just text her later.”

Through narrowed eyes, I watched him go.

Brandy was already in Cameron’s office. I googled, wincing at the headlines. The media could be a fucking circus. There wasn’t much I could to do protect Cameron from this kind of problem. She had a good PR team and Derek Price was the best at what he did. He’d help her sort this out.

I didn’t like feeling helpless, especially when it came to her. But maybe there were other ways I could take care of the boss lady.





24





Cameron





My schedule, at least until tonight, had gone out the window. Brandy had scrambled to rearrange my afternoon while I’d met with Derek Price and Spencer’s PR team to talk damage control.

The problem wasn’t that the media had reported the break-in. That might have caused a little drama at the next Bluewater Town Hall—if enough of the residents decided it meant we had a security problem in the enclave. But that would have been easy to address, and certainly not a reason to bring in a corporate fixer.

The problem was the spin. Apparently a story about a home invasion wasn’t salacious enough. The media was glossing over the fact that I’d been the victim, and was portraying me as a power-hungry backstabber who’d made enemies on her rise to the top. The break-in was being touted as a revenge move.

Speculation as to what I’d done to cause this—the blame-shifting made me furious—ranged from sleeping with Spencer executives to get my job, to stealing ideas from fellow engineers early in my career and refusing to give them credit.

The worst was a lengthy article by gossip blogger Sydney Phillips. She’d dug into my past enough to know Milton Spencer had paid my private school tuition. She claimed I’d turned on my benefactor and bullied him into retiring. Her article also referred to my numerous enemies in the aerospace industry—without actually naming any—and painted Spencer Aeronautics as a company on the brink of revolt against its CEO.

It almost sounded too outlandish to do real PR damage, but there was just enough truth woven among the wild speculation to give Sydney’s article an air of credibility. As did the one Spencer executive she did have on record. Noelle Olson.

She’d quoted Noelle as saying, “Cameron Whitbury is reckless, taking unnecessary risks with Spencer’s resources in order to indulge her personal ambitions.”

It was a shitty thing for Noelle to say, especially to a gossip blogger, but not surprising. She’d said similar things to my face, although cloaked in more diplomatic language. But Sydney had run with it. I’d wanted to march down to Noelle’s office and confront her, but Jude had stopped me. If she was behind the other incidents, this was probably part of her larger plan to discredit me. An angry confrontation wouldn’t help.

The worst part was how much time and attention this was going to take. I already had enough on my plate without trying to counteract crappy news coverage. I had a fucking company to run. Thousands of jobs fell under my responsibility and this was a distraction I didn’t need.

I picked up my phone to check the group chat that Daisy had named Vagillionaires.

Daisy: I’m so fucking angry right now. That article is bullshit.

Luna: It’s very troubling. How can this woman get away with lying about Cam?

Emily: Spin. We all know it can happen. Sensationalism sells.

Luna: Cam, check in when you can.

Daisy: Where are we drinking tonight? I have a bottle of Luna’s favorite organic vodka ready.

Luna: I love your generous heart.

Daisy: Let’s just gather at my place. Cam needs a dip in the D.

Despite everything, I couldn’t help but laugh. Daisy’s pool was shaped like a dick and balls. Because of course it was. This was Daisy.

Emily: To be fair, she’s probably getting the D.

Luna: Meditative sexual experiences can be very cleansing and good for stress. Cam, I have a book you can borrow if you want it.

Daisy: Speaking of the D, I need to know if Jude is proportionate. Because if he is, Cam’s a lucky bitch.

Me: I’m a lucky bitch.

I grinned while the three of them sent me a series of emojis—shock face, happy face, and heart eyes, interspersed with eggplants.

Me: Serious note. Derek and my PR team are on it. I’m pissed but we’ll handle it. Not sure about drinking in the dick pool tonight. I’ll get back to you. Love you guys.

Jude pushed my office door open. He’d been somewhat on the sidelines today. There wasn’t a lot he could do against this kind of attack. But his presence here had made such a difference. Knowing he was nearby had kept me from completely losing my mind.

“Hey,” he said.

That little smile of his made me feel melty inside. “Hey.”