The CEO's Publicist

    “Good morning, Mr. Cartwright,” Jenny, my secretary, greets me as I wobble out of the elevator, nursing my throbbing temple. As if about to tell me something, she stands up as I walk by, but today just wasn’t the day for it.             The bright, opulent opens space of the top floor of the Cartwright building usually brings me a calming wave of peace and pride when I get to work, but with this raging migraine in my head, I just want to roll over and pass out in the nearest floor where the sun is beaming down on it.             Unfortunately, even though I am one of the youngest executives in the company’s history, I just can’t do that…yet.             Luckily, my office is just a few feet away from the elevator if I can just get past Jenny, who is currently standing in my way. As much as I appreciate how her lipstick makes her kissable lips even more alluring and how her skin-tight skirt is making my heart pump more blood to my eyes and brain, I’d rather not risk the chance of vomiting on her well-developed cleavage.             “Lovely morning, Jenny. But whatever it is, can you let it wait after lunch? I seem to be down with something,”             And that something is a hangover from last night’s wild misadventure.             "Are you sure, Mr. Cartwright?"             I massage my throbbing temples, but my eyes still linger on her tight waist under the curves of her taut breasts. “Tell you what, Jenny. Why don’t you personally come by to my office in the afternoon and you can tell me all about my messages by then, okay?”             It’s already bad enough that the company board’s been hounding me for the last few days, desperately trying to kick me out just because of a few tabloid articles and videos that’s been circulating around the internet. I don’t need another problem on my plate, at least until I’ve had my coffee and morning four-hour nap.             “But Mr. Cartwright!” Jenny shouts from behind me as I hop my way around her and power walk towards my office. Just a bit more longer, I tell myself as I reach for the cold knob of my office door, almost running my shoulder through the door in exhaustion.             But as I open the door to my office, I quickly regret not letting Jenny tell me the urgent news.             Someone is sitting on my chair with his back faced towards me, “Had a long night, Ryan?” my father asks as he slowly turns the chair and looks at me with fierce eyes and an even fiercer tone. His greying hair, crow’s feet, and wrinkling hands do little to tarnish his still dashing looks and great demeanor. It’s no wonder where I got my good looks from, even though my dad wished that I’d gotten his work ethic as well.             “Good morning to you too, Alder,” I reply with as much pep and gusto as my dry throat allowed, “Long night is an understatement. I ran through the Kachiko merger deal three times last night, and I’ve gotta say, I had a hard time looking for any inconsistencies nor loopholes. We should give the legal team a raise.”             God, I hope he buys it, I pray as I stagger to the brewing coffee pot near the door. I grab the pot with both of my hands and let out a heavy sigh as the warmth flows through my body. Even more so when I finally pour myself a cup of the black liquid and let its heavenly contents seep into my mouth, warming the rest of my body.             Unfortunately, my father’s face is the exact opposite of mine as he glares at me from across the room. I feel the large lump in my throat go down with anxiety.             “The Kachiko deal, you say?” my father asks with a raised brow, “Funny you should mention that, Ryan. You wouldn’t happen to mean this Kachiko deal?” He picks up the remote control on top of my table and turns on my 48-inch LED TV.             I loved that TV. I loved spending most of my morning working hours glued to that massive metallic portal of entertainment. I couldn’t even make myself turn it off when my previous busty secretary gave me a b*****b under my table.             But now, I really wished I’d thrown it out the window yesterday as I watch.             CNN Business is on, and the news anchor is talking about Kachinko and speculates on why the Chinese/Japanese conglomerate decided to back-off of their plan expansion in the US East Coast.             Crap. How the hell did the news break out so fast? “Those bastards!” I cry out, channeling every great dramatic actor in history to help me pull off this emotional reply, “How dare they do this to us, father!”             But as much as I tried to sell the act, my father clearly isn’t buying it one bit. He slams his hand on my recently furnished mahogany table, “Will you stop the bullshit already, Ryan, and for one second in your sorry life, just show me the respect that I deserve by facing your own f**k-ups!?”             He strikes the table so hard that my coffee cup flies at least five inches in the air before breaking on the floor next to the table. If there’s any reminder to me of how strong my father was, it’s probably that and his broad-shouldered, looming figure as he stands up from his chair and looks outside the western window of the office.             I hoped to God that the majestic view of the city in my face calms my father down as I try to stop my cup from trembling in my hand. But I dare not move whenever my father is in one of his stern scolding sessions.             Luckily, his voice lowers down and slows, “Ryan, if you’ve ever wondered why the board hasn’t kicked you out just yet, well, wonder no further. It’s one thing to perenially bring bad press to our company; it’s a whole other disaster when you just lot billions of dollars of revenue for the entire company!”             I quickly walk up beside him, “You weren’t there yesterday, dad. It was a bad deal; they weren’t going to push through unless they had a majority claim on the assets and profit. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let some bastard take my company––I mean––our company away from our family, dad!”             Father sternly replies, “Everyone in the goddamn world wants a piece of our company, Ryan!  If they give you an offer that’s too unfavorable for us, then you negotiate and find a compromise. You’ve always been such a head-strong boy with a moral compass, and I respect that. But you need to stop antagonizing other people just because their views are opposite yours.”             His words stab me where it hurts the most, and I fall silent, sipping the last drops of my bitter coffee in disgust.             “What’s worse is that you don’t see how much is eating you up inside when things don’t go your way. You’re letting the negativity of others corrupt you from within, which is why you just went out on one of your raves last night, right?”             “How did you––did you have one of your spied trail me again last night? That’s pretty low, even for you, dad. Spying on your own son like that.”             My father replies with a scoff and grabs his phone from his pocket. He then shows me a video of some bystander recording me as I guzzle on two champagne bottles simultaneously, then getting into a limo with some hot chick, “I really wish you made it hard for me to spy on what you’ve been doing at night, Ryan, because the entire country knows about it better than I do!”             “Since when do you know how to use f*******:, dad? Didn’t you have IT recover your e-mail yesterday because you said you lost the piece of paper you used to keep all of your passwords?”             “Very funny, Ryan. And don’t you dare try to change the subject because this­­––whatever the hell it is you are doing––is getting out of hand, and my patience has run dry. Maybe I’ve been spoiling you too much all this time. So from here on out, you are on your own.”             Father gives me a pat on the shoulder before walking out of the office. The silence of his passing wake somehow infuriated me more than the harsh words he said earlier. I drink some more warm fragrant coffee, but it no longer gives me the same relief and comfort I had earlier.             He even knows how to suck the fun out of coffee.             Once again, my head throbs, but I need to get my act together because if I don’t, the next time I wake up will be on the sidewalk next to the train station as I beg for loose change. After sitting in my office for an hour or so, an idea strikes me.             I press on my phone’s loudspeaker button and call for Jenny. She replies with a worried tone, “Mr. Cartwright, I’m really sorry, but I really did try to warn you earlier.”             “Jenny, no need to say sorry at all. It was clearly my fault for not listening to you earlier. You have my full permission to break my legs with a tire iron if I try to avoid you next time.”             I feel relieved to hear Jenny’s laugh, “I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Cartwright. And as you requested, I’ve held all of your calls for the morning and will update you later this afternoon.”             “Brilliant, Jenny. But I actually called you for a different matter entirely.”             “Shoot it, Mr. Cartwright. What do you need?” “Remember the Martha Stewart fiasco?”             “Yes, sir, Mr. Cartwright, what about it?”             “I just remembered you mentioning in our office Christmas party that you knew the PR company who handled her ?”             Jenny’s voice lights up, “Oh! I don’t exactly know the PR company, but I know the friend of my sister’s ex, who was the workmate of a guy who married the assistant of––“             “Jenny,” I interrupt, “That’s all great, Jenny. Can you get me the contact details of the company? Scratch that; why don’t you sign me up for an appointment.”             “Consider it done. And when would you prefer to have the appointment, Mr. Cartwright?”             “Later this afternoon or whenever is the soonest that is possible.”             “But that’s just in a couple of hours.”             “It’s always amazing how you can tell time so fast, Jenny.”             Jenny giggles, “Thank you, Mr. Cartwright.”             “And I have the full confidence that you’ll be able to set up that appointment. You also have the full support of my personal checking account for whatever astronomical price they’ll ask for this. So, will you please set the meeting?”             “On it! Anything else?”             I think hard for a moment if there’s anything I’ve missed. Jenny’s rocking body runs through my mind and all the wondrous things I could do to it. But I quickly slap myself on the face before I get too distracted. “Oh, and make sure to tell them that the client setting up this meeting is an athletic, social media personality/celebrity. That’ll keep them on their toes.”             “You got it, Mr. Cartwright. I’ll have the company driver pick you up here after lunch. And order the usual pork fried rice for your lunch.”             “What would I do without you, Jenny? Thank you.”             After I clean up the mess on my office floor, I sit back on the chair and rest my eyes for a few minutes before dozing off.             Because when I’m fully rested and hangover-free, I’ll show them that Ryan Cartwright isn’t just some party-loving punk but the most qualified heir to the Cartwright Corporation.             And maybe then I’ll start thinking about banging my lovely secretary.             God, I love my job.