Scandal

Chapter 9-3

THE NEXT MORNING, I awakened to the ringing of the phone. I had stayed up all night planning and plotting only to realize I missed Sasha terribly. I should have forgotten my plotting and invited her over for dinner, but I had become obsessed. It didn't matter now—I would deal with the temp first thing and then invite Sasha out for dinner to apologize. It was the least I could do after the reaction I had given her the day before. I’d just been so worried that my father would find out about us before I had the opportunity to tell him myself. I was doing it for Sasha, not for myself. My father was a wild card at times, and I couldn't be sure that he wouldn't fire her on the spot regardless of the fact that she was now his stepdaughter. Man, I hated that term so much now that Sasha and I were an item. It was something I would have to get over, however, if I truly wanted her to be mine. It was something everyone would have to get over.

I reached over and grabbed my phone off the side table, clicking it on. Speak of the devil, it was Sasha. Now would be a really great time for me to apologize for being an ass. Maybe I could pick her up on the way into work, and we could drive together.

“Hello, beautiful. How are you this fine morning?”

She had been crying—or was still crying. I couldn't really tell because she was breathing heavily. Sasha was hysterical, and I was speechless as to why.

“Sol, you need to turn on the news right now.”

“Sweetheart, what's wrong? What the heck is going on?”

“Please, just do it. We’re on there, we're on the news.”

I fumbled around for the remote to my bedroom TV and clicked it on. The news was always the first thing I watched in the morning, so it was set at the right channel. And Sasha was right—there we were on the news. What the hell happened? How was this possible? My mind was scrambling for an explanation because I couldn't even figure out how we had managed to score a place on the news.

What was the newscaster saying? It was about our relationship. Or lack thereof, as far as the press was concerned. Or interoffice affair had been leaked, and it was splashed all over the screen for the world to see. Not only the world, but our parents as well. How the hell had this happened? And then I remembered—the temp. She must have gone to the paper with it.

Money. Of course, she would have been paid a small fortune for that story. She would be fired, of course, but it wouldn't matter. She had no intention of setting foot in my company’s office again. Otherwise, she wouldn't have done it. She got the money, and that was all that mattered. It made me sick how some people could play with other people’s lives just for a quick buck. I scrambled to understand it all, and I wondered how I was going to deal with my father, who was probably on the way to the Empire to give me a piece of his mind.

“Sol?”

Sasha broke into my concentration. “Sorry, doll. Yeah, it looks like we have a bit of a problem.”

“You think? God, Sol, they make me sound so awful, like some skank who has been getting her rocks off with her boss. How is this possible?”

“I'm sorry. Things like this get into the news because it's scandalous. They don't intend to make anyone look good. I feel terrible. Sasha. You don't deserve this.”

“What are we going to do, Sol? Everyone knows. My god, our parents know now. He's going to kill me . . . kill us.”

“Well, Sasha, I think it's probably best you take the day off for obvious reasons. I can guarantee my father is heading into the office to speak with me, so it's best that you steer clear of the place for the time being. Stay home until I can get a handle on the situation. I’ll still continue to pay you, of course.”

“Oh, this sounds awful.”

“It's really okay, Sasha.”

“How do you figure? I can't even imagine walking into the office now when everyone thinks that I just screwed my boss, and what's worse is that the news didn't neglect mentioning how we’re technically related. So not only am I sleeping with my boss, but he's also my stepbrother. What the hell are we going to do?”

“Sasha, calm down.”

Another call beeped into my phone. I looked at it and saw my father’s name.

“Calm down? How can you say that?”

“My father is calling. I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, Sol. I'll be waiting.”

I clicked on the other call. “Father, I’m sure you saw the news. What can I do for you?”

“I'm so glad you have a sense of humor,” he said sarcastically. “I'm on my way to the office, and I suggest you meet me there. And bring Sasha with you.”

“She’s staying home today. She's embarrassed, and I don't want her at the office until everything is taken care of. I can handle this without her. Whatever you need to say, I can relay it to Sasha.”

“Fine, I’ll see you there.”

*