Page 8 of Size King
Aiden
Iam able to work well and rest easy for the next few days knowing that I have a warrior like Kate Harly taking care of business for me. On Tuesday, she’s able to get in touch with St. Martin’s Hospital just outside the city and gets them to agree to the event we have in mind of donating our learning tablets to the ill, needy children of New York. She writes the script for my upcoming press conference and gets that booked and taken care of before she goes home on her first day.
I keep her on call for Wednesday while I let the rest of the PR department take care of setting up the arrangements for things while she brainstorms where to take things from the press conference. I have a normal day, go to my meetings, and then I go home early to get a good night’s sleep before the big day tomorrow.
I meet with Kate to get coffee early the next morning before I make my appearance at the hospital. We’ve seen each other a lot on Tuesday, but I missed seeing her the day before. I text her on my way to the coffee shop, asking what she wants so that I’ll have it ready and hot for her when she gets there.
My limo comes and picks us up to take us to St. Martin’s. On the way there, Kate runs things by me: cell phone etiquette, what to say to certain groups of kids, which of them are more serious cases. We run through the details of the press conference (which is being held a block away from the hospital) and get me up to speed. I’m as prepared as I’m ever going to get.
I’m glad to donate the tablets to the kids, but I still feel strange doing it in the midst of my scandal. I feel despicable when standing near the wide-eyed, beautiful youth. I really don’t want anyone to think I’m doing this just to try and look like a good guy. I really do want to give to them.
Fortunately, it all seems to be going well. My appearance is generating a lot of positivity whenever I’m actually in the room. The kids are all ecstatic to get their tablets; all of them are playing on them within seconds of receiving them. I get thank-yous, high-fives, and even some hugs. By the end of it, I almost don’t even care if a camera got any evidence of the donations. I just feel good doing it.
“We are just in awe of everything you’re doing here today, Mr. Marx,” a nurse says to me. “Your spirit, your generosity, and your compassion are unlike anything we’ve seen in this place for quite some time. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.”
* * *
We spend moretime at St. Martin’s than we planned, but it’s certainly not a bad thing. I don’t mind making the press wait a little while for me; after all, they take too much pleasure in giving Sarah time to vent her lies and paint me out like a lying rapist, so I give more time to the kids.
By the time we all get to the press conference, the journalists and reporters are already throwing questions at me before I’ve even opened my mouth. I ignore the chattering and stick to the script.
I stand at my podium and speak into the microphones, saying the well-written words that Kate has concocted for me to say to the media. As I’m wrapping up, I decide to enact Kate’s approach to answering questions: answer no less than five, no more than ten; keep it short and keep it witty.
“Mr. Marx,” one journalist asks, “with all due respect, isn’t this tour of good will just part of a publicity stunt for show? The timing is rather peculiar.”
“I realize the timing may seem peculiar, but I’m not going to stop living my life or conducting my business just becauseSarah Blackburnis looking for publicity and attention,” I retort. “I’ve been planning on donating to this very hospital for a long time now. I’ve always wanted to give once I could afford to do so, and I can pretty much afford everything now.”
I get a few light laughs in the audience.
“I’ve been putting off donating for a long time, and I have no excuse whatsoever,” I continue, going slightly off the script. “A friend of mine recently told me that there is no reason to push this off even further, just because of made-up nonsense. The children are more important, and our gifts today will ensure that they can learn, play, and grow even when they have to spend time at the hospital. I’m very happy to do this.”
“Why would Sarah Blackburn lie?” a reporter asks.
“I honestly don’t know why,” I reply. “Sarah has been known to sleep with men and get them fired—ask the two Ivy League professors that she got fired.”
This line confuses the crowd and spreads intrigue.
“I’m not here to talk about Sarah Blackburn,” I say slyly. “I’m holding this press conference today because I’m here to say I’m not hiding anymore. Sarah is lying to you all. The same way she lied to me and a lot of other people. Now really, please, let’s stick to Tech Wreck or St. Martin’s, shall we?”
* * *
The press conference went spectacularly,the publicity that follows is great, and oddly enough, Kate’s prediction about sales increasing for Tech Wreck’s learning tablets comes true instantaneously. From the time the press conference airs and the media spreads the story of me at St. Martin’s, to the moment we clock out that day, tablet sales burst higher than anyone at the company could’ve foreseen.
To celebrate the glorious day and to thank the entire staff for getting everything put together perfectly, I take them all out to dinner that night atMoonbeam Grotto, a fancy and quiet Asian restaurant in Brooklyn. I’d be lying if I say I don’t want the dinner to be just Kate and me, but I’m grateful to everyone who worked that day, and I know that having the other staff members around will help keep things businesslike and not personal.
I eat light and listen in on the various conversations going on at our big table. It’s a pleasant evening and the food is divine.
I notice that my superstar PR head has ordered herself a medium steak with all the fixings and a milkshake. I don’t look over at her too often during dinner—I didn’t want anyone else getting the wrong idea—but I see that she eats her large meal shamelessly and doesn’t give a damn who sees her enjoying her hefty entrée. I love that about her.
After certain members of the staff finish their food, they decide to leave before we are all through. Most of us are drinking, however, and I happen to be one of those people. I agree to give most of my staff a ride home in my limo.
Once I see that Kate’s plate is free of steak and potatoes, I go over and sit down in the now-vacant seat next to her. I know we can afford to have a few moments to ourselves where it won’t raise immediate suspicions.
I lean close to Kate so she can hear me. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together the last few days, haven’t we?”
“We certainly have,” she says before wiping her face and hands with her napkin.
I’m looking her over, finally able to appreciate her outfit. She is wearing another skirt, but it’s much shorter than the one I’d gotten to play with. She has on a nice white shirt that shows off her curves magnificently, along with sparkling jewelry in her ears, on her wrists, and on her ankles.