Billion Dollar Promises

Chapter 3: The Deal

Savannah Lane adjusted her blazer, as she stood in the elevator of Carrington Industries’ Manhattan headquarters.

As the elevator doors opened, a woman with a smile stood waiting. "Ms. Lane? I'm Claire Reynolds, head of PR for Carrington Industries. This way." Savannah nodded, feeling tensed, and followed Claire down to a conference room.The atmosphere was intense with people typing, some had their phones pressed to their ears, making indistinct sounds.

Claire led her over to a conference table where two guys were sitting. One was older, with a receding hairline, and the other was younger, fiddling with his phone. "This is Marcus Tate, our CFO, and Ethan," Claire said, nodding towards each of them. Marcus gave a brief nod, his eyes sizing her up. Ethan barely looked up from his screen. "Take a seat," Claire said. Savannah sat down, her hands clasped together in her lap.

Claire didn’t waste any time. “Ms. Lane, that photo from the ballroom is a problem. It’s an issue for you, obviously, but also for Mr. Carrington. The media is running wild with this story and it's not great for Mr. Carrington's image, especially with everything else going on.

Savannah clenched her jaw, the tension in her face saying more than words ever could. “I didn’t want to be in that photo. I was just doing my job.”

Marcus leaned in, forcing a smile. “And yet, here we are. Your little stunt knocked our stock down five points this morning.”

“Stunt?” She said, “I spilled a drink trying to stop a drunk from ruining the event. Maybe you should thank me instead of blaming me.”

Claire raised a hand, her expression cool. “We’re not here to point fingers. We’re here to fix this. The media loves a story, and right now, you’re in the spotlight. We need to control the narrative.”

“Control it how?” she said.

Before Claire could answer, the door swung open. Jaxson Carrington walked in, with his hair slightly messy, his blue eyes locking on Savannah with intensity. Her breath caught. He wore a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The room seemed to shrink around him.

“Ms. Lane,” he said, his voice low, almost amused. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

She sat up straight, composing herself. "Your team didn't exactly give me a lot of options," she said, her tone a bit snappier than she'd intended.

Jaxson took a seat across from her, steadily he said “Let’s get to it. That photo’s a problem for both of us. My board’s breathing down my neck, and I’m guessing your clients aren’t too happy either.”

Claire slid a folder across the table. “We have a proposal. A way to turn this into an opportunity.”

Savannah didn’t touch the folder. “What kind of opportunity?”

Jaxson leaned back, his fingers drumming on the table. “A fake engagement. You and me. Six months of public appearances and a few staged photos. We sell a love story, the media eats it up, and your name gets cleared. Plus, we pay you. Half a million.”

"Right?" she said, the laugh dying on her lips. "You can't be serious."

“Do I look like I’m joking?” he said hysterically

She crossed her arms, her voice cold. “Why me? You could hire an actress, a model or an influencer. You've got all the money and anyone would be perfectly fitted into your scheme.

“You’re real,” Jaxson said softly, “People saw it in that photo and they've already started the rumour, to build up on that will be the perfect change”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but Jaxson's expression softened slightly. "You handled Devon pretty well. And that kept things from going out of hands."

"Are you kidding me?" she said, shaking her head. "I'm not some accessory you can use for PR spin."

“No one is saying you are,” Claire interjected, her tone smooth but impatient. “This is a partnership. You help us, and we help you. Your business gets a boost as our support could open doors.”

Savannah's gaze drifted to the folder, her mind racing. "There's gotta be a catch, right?" she said, her voice laced with skepticism. "What do I have to give up?"

“No catch,” Jaxson said, but his tone was a bit too smooth as if he were holding something back. “You play the part, smile for the cameras, keep it professional and we both get what we want."

“Without problems?” She leaned forward, her voice low and sharp. “My name’s being dragged through the mud because of this. My clients are leaving. Do you think I trust you to ‘fix’ this?”

His eyes narrowed with a spark of irritation. “You think I wanted this? My company’s under attack, and that photo is making it worse. I’m offering us a way out.”

“A way out?” she said. “You mean a way to use me. Your company has a history of screwing people over. I’m not signing up for that.”

The room went still. Marcus’s smile disappeared. Claire’s pen froze mid-note. Jaxson’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t look away. “You don’t know me,” he said, with a low voice “Or my company.”

"Listen, if I'm doing this, I'm not just some pawn on your chessboard," she said, her voice firming up. "I get a say in how this whole thing goes down."

"Alright, we can negotiate the details," Jaxson said, with a smile creeping back onto his fface. But you will need to keep up with me.

She met his gaze, “I can handle it fast. Can you handle me?”

Ethan choked on his coffee. Marcus’s eyes glinted like he was enjoying the exchange. Claire cleared her throat. “We’ll draft a contract. Public appearances, media training, a few events. You’ll attend as Mr. Carrington’s fiancée, starting with a charity dinner next week.”

Fiancée? The word felt like a trap, but the thought of Marissa’s text, the gallery’s email, her empty bank account pressed against her like a weight.

“We’ll issue a statement,” Claire said. “We’ll position you as a rising star in event planning. Our support will carry weight.”

“Send me the contract,” she said finally, her voice firm. “I’ll review it.

Jaxson nodded, a flicker of respect in his eyes. “You’ll have it by tonight.”

Claire stood, signaling the meeting was over. “We’ll be in touch, Ms. Lane.”

Savannah rose, her legs unsteady, but her chin was high. She didn’t look at Jaxson as she walked out, but she felt his gaze on her back, heavy as a touch. In the elevator, she leaned against the wall, her heart still racing. Half a million. A fake engagement. With him. It was crazy and reckless, but this is her only chance.

Her phone buzzed as the doors opened. An anonymous text entered: You’re in deep now.

Her breath ceased for a bit, her fingers tightening around the phone. What the hell is going on? As she stepped into the lobby, everything seemed to close in around her. This wasn't just about a photo anymore. And something about that felt suffocating. Secrets lurked beneath the surface, and she wondered if she'd find herself trapped or transformed by the choices she was about to make.