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“It was nothing.” Tara cringed. “Super poor timing, considering you had a real loose cannon out there. Look, I’m sorry. It was stupid. It was one of your first big events after the breakup, and I didn’t know how it would go without him on your arm, and—I’m sorry.”
Her mind reeled. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Please,” Tara whispered. “Don’t say I’m fired. I do all kinds of publicity stuff for you. I lumped it in with that. Didn’t think twice.”
“That’s so… so…”
“Manipulative as shit. Appalling. Categorically fucked up.” Her brow furrowed. “I legitimately didn’t think it was a big deal at first, and I have been letting it eat me alive every day since. I’m sorry.”
“And Jay was in on this?”
Tara nodded. She bit her lip, tears welling. “I’m sorry.”
“You guys are my team. My friends,” she whispered.
“I really am. I made a mistake. It was just a letter, just for one event.” Tara shook her head. “I don’t mean to downplay. At the time, it didn’t seem big. Now? With everything going on? My perspective has changed. And maybe, what I do for ratings too.”
“This… really hurts.”
“Are you going to fire me? Maybe you should.You shouldn’t. But maybe you should…” She sucked in a breath and whispered, “Please don’t.”
Ella closed her eyes. “No.”
“Are we still friends?”
“If that’s what you call us…”
Tara wrapped her arms around Ella. “I’m going to be a better friend.”
“And a nicer publicist?”
She pulled back. “I’m nice.”
Ella choked on a laugh. “You should read back some of your text messages. They can be harsh.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
Tara pulled her chair closer. “I’m team Ella. I love working with Eco-Ella, and I hope you’re banging the brains out of Bishop.”
“Tara!”
“I value you. I’ll make it up to you. But first, I have a phone call to make.”
“To who?”
“The FBI.”
That caught Ella off guard. “About this?”
“About a couple things that popped to mind while we were sitting here. Drink your melted smoothie and do a video—and God help us, don’t post that thing until we walk out the door. As hot as your bodyguard is, I don’t want him breathing down my neck.”
It looked as though Tara had been on the receiving end of Bishop’s “how to be safe in the age of the Internet” conversation. “He has a strong argument.”
“I think he probably has a strongeverything.”
“Tara!”
“What? Dirty girl. I didn’t say anything like your face just said. Who knew it’d take a beefcake like him to turn Eco-Ella into—”
“Don’t finish that.” But Tara was not wrong. “Make your phone call, then I have to go home.”
Because now Ella had her own calls to make.