Page 2 of Scandalous Whispers (Alpha Billionaire #28)

PARKER

T om’s fingers drummed on the corner of my desk.

His drawn eyebrows and pursed lips were indicative of his frustration.

It had been a week since the decision to terminate Gretchen Kilpatrick following the revelation of her relationship with Jack Williams. The following investigation by Tom showed misconduct between the two—revealing their sources’ identities, fabricating facts to pad stories, and most recently, instigating sexual relations during the workday on company property.

“And you made it clear that it was due to the misconduct as a journalist?” I crossed my arms over my chest and sat back in my chair.

Tom rolled his eyes at me. It was probably the fifth time I’d asked him to confirm this fact for me, all worded in different ways.

I just couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Yes, Parker. For the last time. I did not bring up the fraternization as the chief reason for her termination. Though I did remind them that the policy exists. Ms. Kilpatrick is just furious.” His finger drumming grew more intense.

“She is stirring the pot now. There is talk that she will file a defamation suit, or worse, a wrongful termination suit.”

I waved my hand in the air at him and shook my head. “She has nothing to stand on. I’m not really worried about that. I just don’t want her causing a fuss with our staff. We don’t need polarization in here when we’re already taking a hit.”

A few staff members walked past the office, peeking in.

The large window that divided my corner office from the newsroom was soundproof but allowed me to keep an eye on what was happening on the floor.

My eyes trained on Jack, the second party in the forbidden office romance.

He’d had a stick up his ass from the moment we called them out.

Sex on the copy machine had irritated me, but it had been the least of my worries.

If we had run the story Gretchen conflated, it would have destroyed the paper’s credibility.

And with the retraction we already had to print thanks to Lauren Evans’ mistake, there was no telling how hard of a hit this was likely to be.

I turned back to Tom, peeling my eyes off Jack, and cleared my throat.

The threatened lawsuit by a former employee had to be tabled.

We had bigger issues to deal with, and Tom knew that.

He must have deduced that I was about to switch gears because he sat straighter in his seat, folding his hands in his lap.

“So, the dip in sales. How bad is it?” The leather chair I sat on squeaked as I leaned forward and opened the manila folder lying in front of me on my desk, hundred-year-old wood salvaged from a shipwreck off the Grecian coast and polished to a shine.

It was a treasure of immeasurable worth to me, mingling history with present-day practicality.

In and of itself, it was a story for the front pages.

“Well, you’ll see the figures on page one.

It’s not bad yet, but if we don’t correct Lauren’s blunder, we’ll tank.

The Post is already calling us out. The headlines hit this morning.

Luckily, The Post likes to report facts, not opinions.

But now that it’s out, the criticism will follow.

We have the retraction in print now, already being delivered to doorsteps everywhere. ”

I was pleased to hear that the retraction had been printed and sent, but I was steamed that it even had to happen.

Still, Lauren’s blunder of not double-checking her facts wasn’t half as bad as Gretchen’s blatant lies about things that never happened.

I scoured the report, seeing that sales had dipped even as early as last month, probably due to the new tabloid that started a few months ago.

We were battling for the headlines and the bottom lines.

I dropped the file and closed the folder.

“What do you think about these numbers?” I pushed the folder toward Tom, and he shook his head.

His eyes trailed across the room to the only solid wall in my office which boasted a painting done by a local artist who rose to fame due to an exposé we’d done.

The painting was a gift from the artist for providing her such great publicity.

I stared at the painting too. It portrayed Prometheus on the side of Olympus, descending the rocky terrain with a torch of the gods’ fire in hand.

I loved the painting because it was not only a powerful metaphor symbolizing the desire for knowledge and progress but also challenging established power structures and defying tradition.

Prometheus stole the gods’ fire and gave it to the world to benefit.

I believed our position of delivering news to the masses uniquely positioned us to influence millions of people the way Prometheus’s fire did. A very fitting painting, indeed.

“I think it means we just keep doing what we’re doing. People are fickle and move with the crowd. We’ve had dips before. It will happen again. There is no need to be fussed about it.” Tom nodded and turned to me. “No one is perfect and we’ve admitted to our mistakes. People will respect that.”

As I stared at the painting, I realized that we had our very own Titan in our ranks.

Haley Spencer could very well ascend the mountain of the gods and in stealing their fire, share it with the world.

She had a passion about her I hadn’t seen since the early days of owning The Vine , and her ability to write compelling copy outmatched any reporter out there.

She was our Prometheus, and we would spread that fire to the world one way or another.

“I want you to focus on Haley Spencer.” Tom’s eyebrows rose as I spoke. He quirked his head to the side. “She’s got something, and we need it.”

“With all due respect, sir, our subscription dip happened while Ms. Spencer was working for us. It’s not like this dip precipitated our hiring her. She’s been here.” His brow furrowed and he gazed out over the news floor. “I don’t see what’s special about her.”

“You’re blind, Tom.” I stood and buttoned my suit coat, strolling to the window to watch the staff bustle about and work. “I may not have worked my way up as a journalist to get to the position of owning a newspaper, but?—”

Tom scoffed. “Your money is older than this country. Buying the paper on a whim was a great investment, but that doesn’t mean you know journalism.

” I heard the ire in his voice, probably left over from the days of his own reporting when I bought the paper from his then-boss.

Keeping him on as editor in chief had been a good decision, and he kept me on my toes, but he didn’t know everything.

“I know what people like.” I turned my back on the news floor and slid my hands in my pockets. Tom rubbed his hand over his face as I continued. “You’re forgetting I took this paper from a ten-million-dollar a year business to the billion-dollar corporation it is today. And how did I do that?”

“I get it.” Tom sighed. We went toe-to-toe on a weekly basis, but he always agreed with me in the end, even if it meant swallowing his pride.

“Look, the staff already thinks you’re a hard ass.

If I tell them you’re picking favorites now, they’re going to start lining up to join Gretchen in her lawsuit frenzy. We have to play things right.”

“Why? Because Ms. Spencer is younger and fresher? Because they are jealous that she has talent? Is it not my prerogative to hire and fire, promote and demote whomever I choose?” I chuckled, unmoved by his warning.

“Just make a direct line between me and Haley. I’ll help get her on the most important national and international stories.

She’s going to need an expense account, probably a company credit card.

I’ll want her on call twenty-four, seven, which means we get her a company cell phone.

She is our meal ticket. We are taking this paper to the next level.

” I strolled back to my desk and sat down, my wheels already spinning about what to do next.

Tom stood and straightened his tie. “David will have a field day with this.”

“David is your subordinate. Just follow the chain of command.” Tom nodded and turned to go, and I called to him, “And Tom?”

“Yeah.” He paused mid-stride, his hand resting on the doorknob.

“Thank you for your honesty and loyalty. We have to stick together. I know things aren’t always the easiest between us, but I value your leadership and opinion more than anyone’s in this place.

Now, just get me Spencer on every breaking headline in the country.

Hell, build her her own team if you have to.

Just make it happen. We are going to ride this cash cow to the bank, and sales will skyrocket. ”

Tom excused himself, and I watched him walk directly to David’s office, who picked up his phone.

Moments later, Ms. Spencer was walking across the newsroom to Green’s office, where the three of them sat.

The benefit of the open newsroom with windows to every office was that I could watch everything play out just as I ordered.

The only drawback was that I couldn’t hear what was being said.

Haley Spencer didn't even know it yet, but the minute she broke a massive story, her career—and our sales—were going to hit the ceiling.