Chapter 27 The Fallout
On her way home, Emily bought a pair of sunglasses to disguise herself. The gold digger story stared at her from the front page of the Chronicle on every newspaper stand she passed. When she got home, she collapsed onto the bed, exhausted by the stress brought on by the media scandal.
It didn’t feel like a very long nap, but she fell into a deep sleep. A knock on the door startled her, and she got up feeling completely groggy.
A short blond woman in round glasses stood in the hallway, looking grave and determined. It was her neighbor Claire, the mother of her very first art student.
“I saw the article,” Claire said, “and I’ve come to tell you that I can’t have my daughter take classes from you anymore.”
“It’s not what you think,” Emily began, but she knew it would be useless to protest.
“I don’t think Riley saw the article,” Claire said, “but I can’t risk her seeing stuff like this and then wondering what a gold digger is. She’s too young for this!”
Emily could hardly look at the woman, feeling completely mortified. “It came as a shock to me too. Obviously, the article doesn’t reflect the truth of the situation.”
“I know it’s probably not true,” the mother said, “but I can’t have my kid exposed to this kind of stuff. I’m sorry.”
Emily wondered how many other students she would lose over this. She needed to fight back somehow. Byron seemed to be overreacting by unleashing the might of his financial empire against the newspaper, and she sensed she needed to do something different, more personal. Her students deserved to know who she really was.
At dinner time, she made her way back to Byron’s place, hoping he hadn’t yet bankrupted the Chronicle and anyone who had ever associated with them.
To her surprise she found Byron calmly sipping a drink on his balcony, Rupert by his side. Perhaps the alcohol was the reason for his calmness.
“How was your day?” Byron asked, getting up to pour her a drink.
“Could have been better,” Emily said, “I lost a student because of this nonsense.”
“You’ll get new ones,” he said confidently. “Gin and tonic?”
“Thanks.”
“I talked to Christine,” Byron said, “I wanted to know why she wrote the article. Just as I suspected, she’s jealous of you. She said she wanted to show me what a mistake I’m making by getting involved with you.”
His handsome features scrunched up into a grimace of disgust.
“What a piece of work!” Emily exclaimed.
Byron nodded in full agreement. “I told her that it was exactly this kind of insecure and vicious attitude that made me not want to date her in the first place. It was a bit harsh... but I don’t have any sympathy for people who hurt you.”
“I don’t want you to take on the newspaper, though,” Emily said. Sipping the gin and tonic made her feel more relaxed, maybe too relaxed as she was usually more cautious about trying to rein in Byron’s aggressive impulses.
“I will get Christine fired for this,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“No,” Emily said, “it won’t do any good. The damage is already done, and there’s no point in making anyone else suffer.”
“What she did was unprofessional,” he argued, “she deserves to be fired as a matter of principle.”
Emily decided to suggest the idea she came up with. “I have a different tactic. I’m going to write an article telling my own story. You said you had connections with other newspapers, so maybe you could help me get it published?”
“That’s a great idea,” Byron said, clinking glasses with her, “And you wouldn’t need much help to get the story out. Being the scandal mongers they are, those media pundits will love the controversy.”
He got up to stand behind her chair and massaged her shoulders. His hands were gentle, unraveling tight muscles and spreading a sensuous warmth throughout her upper body.
“I can tell this has got you all tense,” he said, “I feel bad about getting you into this mess.”
“You couldn’t have known Christine would get her claws out,” Emily said.
“I just couldn’t imagine anyone would speak lowly of you,” his voice sounded so soft and pleasant as he leaned down closer to her, “An unforgettable lady like you is definitely not the gold digger type.”
Emily smiled, trying not to let the praise go to her head. The whole city might have bought the story, but at least Byron knew that she never wanted to use him for money.
“I’m glad you know that I like your personality,” she said, melting with pleasure as his hands caressed her back, “even if it’s a little intense sometimes.”
“Let’s get out of the city,” he suddenly offered, “Do you have any plans tomorrow morning?”
“No,” she said, “but shouldn’t we stick around to deal with the media?”
“Nah, let’s go for a drive. I’ll cancel my work meetings.” He was already on his phone, putting his new idea into action.
“Maybe I spoke too soon when I said I liked your personality,” Emily complained.
