Page 63 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Zara

"So let me get this right. Cesar Underwood’s car was caught speeding on camera, but he claims his car was stolen and it wasn’t him?"

Steve, my right-hand person nods. "We suspect it’s either because he was visiting someone he shouldn’t or because his car really was stolen."

It’s been three months since that dinner with Hunter.

Two months in which I have seen Hunter’s growing profile in the media.

Clearly, he’s being groomed by his party to take on the role of the next Prime Minister.

The country will be going to the polls soon and rumor is the sitting Prime Minister is going to resign with Hunter tipped to take his place as the lead candidate.

Keeping aside my personal issues with Hunter, I have to admit that he makes for a charismatic contestant.

His relative youth in comparison to his opponent, his presence, which the camera loves, the force of his personality, that comes through almost as strongly through any media platform as in real life, and the fact that when he speaks you are compelled to listen means his approval ratings in the polls have sky rocketed in the months since I met him.

And all this time, there hasn’t been a call or a text from him.

Not that I had expected it. Okay, maybe I had…

A little. A man doesn’t take you out to dinner then eye-fuck you the way Hunter did, only to back off because you turned him down.

A man like that doesn’t take no for an answer.

If anything, my declining his overtures will only push him to be challenged.

To find a way to come back at me faster and harder than ever, and in a way that will take me by surprise.

Which is the only reason I’ve been following his media coverage.

It’s best to keep an eye on your opponent, track their every move, and not let them out of your sight.

And trust me, I’ve been following his media appearances.

Following his social media feeds, as well as the regular appearances he’s been making at various industry shindigs, each time with a different woman on his arm.

Not sure who’s advising him, but that’s the only glitch I could spot in his otherwise constant media presence.

He’s top-of-mind with the voters, all right, but not always for the right reasons.

However, he doesn’t seem to be worried about it.

Entitled asshole that he is, he probably doesn’t care how he comes across to the people.

Or maybe he’s confident he can smooth over any perceived mistakes with that blindingly bright smile of his.

Either way, I’m not his PR manager so I didn’t need to worry about it.

Right? Of course, given I am a crisis manager, a spin doctor, and a lawyer, all rolled into one, I’m the best in the business.

The one sought after by celebrities, media personalities, and politicians in distress—like Cesar Underwood, who’s one of the hottest actors on both sides of the pond right now.

Second only to Declan Beauchamp, who I also happen to know personally.

I fold my arms across my chest and glance around the table in the conference room of my office. "Anyone believe Cesar is telling the truth?"

The team shake their heads.

"Anyone believe he was having an affair and was en route to see his mistress?"

The looks on the faces of my team give them away.

I blow out a breath. "That’s what I thought."

"You’d think celebrities could, at least, try to be original when they come up with lies," Casey, my social media specialist murmurs without taking her gaze off of the device in her hand.

"I assume the media isn’t buying it, and neither is the rest of the internet."

"No surprises there." She winces.

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse." She finally tips up her chin. "He cheated on everyone’s sweetheart, who is pregnant at home with their first child. Her fans are baying for blood."

"He’s in an impossible situation." Kate, my senior associate and crisis media manager, drums her fingers on the table. "Who’d want to cheat on his pregnant wife who is one of the biggest Hollywood stars and girl next door, within the first year of their marriage?"

"Someone who clearly doesn’t know a good thing when he sees it." Casey rolls her eyes.

"Or someone who is running from something and didn’t give a damn about being caught," Steve interjects.

"He’s not that stupid." Kate sniffs.

"I don’t know. When men are in love and trapped, they can go to great lengths to get a semblance of freedom." Steve murmurs.

Kate blinks. "You mean, he’s feeling trapped by marriage to the kind of woman every man fantasizes about, which is why he’s running out on her?"

Steve raises a shoulder. "Or maybe he just needed space to breathe. A monster hit in Hollywood, followed by marriage to someone the fans adore, with a child on the way, and all in under one year."

"You just listed all the reasons for him not getting an ounce of sympathy from the media or the fans." Kate sniffs.

Steve raises his hands. "So many changes can be an emotional burden for anybody. Then, try living it out in glare of the spotlight where the public scrutinizes your every move, and it’s almost understandable why he jumped into his car and ran.

If he hadn’t been caught by a speed camera, he’d be free, and none of us would be the wiser. ”

"So why did he lie about it? Why not admit that it was him and pay the fine?" Kate raises her chin.

"Now, that’s the big question." Steve touches his fingertips together.

"It’s because he was under so much pressure that he decided to have an affair," Casey offers.

Both Kate and Steve look at her.

"What? I’m not making excuses for him, but if we go by what Steve said, it lays the case for him reaching the end of his tether and doing something crazy. Although, in the bigger scheme of things, it’s not that crazy, compared to what others before him have done."

"I tend to agree with you," Steve says slowly.

"Whatever the reason may be, we can agree that he acted like a guilty person when he lied." Kate purses her lips.

"And that’s the point. We’re not here to judge our clients. We’re here to solve their problems. It’s why the wealthy and the powerful come to us." I slap my hands on my hips. "So, where’s Cesar Underwood now?"

"I put him in the Zen meeting room," Mandy replies.

Now, it’s my turn to wince. We only use that room when the client who comes in through the door is so stressed out that normal methods of calming them down don’t work.

I square my shoulders, then turn and head out the room, Kate and Steve on my heels. I reach the door to the conference room and tap once before I push it open.

The soft sound of flutes and bird song piped in through the speakers fills the air.

Underneath it, the tinkling of water from the small water-feature in the corner lends an air of peacefulness.

Together with the simple wooden chaise pushed up against one wall, the deep-cushioned chairs opposite it, as well as a lava lamp in another corner and the bamboos growing from a pot near the window, the room manages to retain a semblance of tranquility.

This, despite the waves of tension pouring off the man who’s standing by the window.

I step into the room, and he turns to face me.

"Zara!" He looks exactly like the face on the billboard I pass every day on my drive to work. Almost six foot three, broad shoulders, thick hair that flows back from his face in waves… With his square jaw and sharp cheekbones, he’s handsome enough to have been called the most handsome man in the world, only he’s nowhere near as charismatic as Hunter.

Huh, how weird I should think that. I’m certainly not saying Hunter’s handsome—not at all.

Okay maybe he is. From some angles. And why am I thinking of him right now?

"Cesar." I nod in his direction.

"You have to help me, Zara, please." He closes the distance to me in a few strides and grabs my hand.

"And I will, I promise, Cesar." I try to extricate my arm, but he holds onto it. "I didn’t do anything wrong, Zara, I swear."

"Except you were at the wrong place at the wrong time," Kate mutters under her breath.

I shoot her a sideways scowl, and Kate wipes the disbelieving look off of her face.

She’s every inch the professional; it’s why I hired her straight out of college six years ago.

She’s grown with the firm, and I know I can count on her loyalty and her discretion.

As I can with all of the other members of my team.

Now, she steps forward and pats his shoulder.

At least, my team is impervious to his looks.

Which is nothing more than I’d expect of them.

It should be difficult to resist the lure of fame and beauty.

But when you see the price people pay to stay in the public eye; the dirty laundry that gets aired by the celebrities, media personalities and politicians who pass through these doors, you realize, behind each pretty face lies the seamier side of celebrity popularity.

No matter how well-known or how gorgeous the person in front of the camera is.

It’s only confirmed my belief that those with access to money and power are normally the ones with the most to hide.

And Hunter… What is he hiding, I wonder?

"Zara, did you hear what I said?" Cesar’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Whether we believe you or not, is not the point. It doesn’t matter what you did; we’ll do our very best to spin it and ensure the media buys into it so you can walk away from this and to your wife—" I search his features. "—assuming that’s what you want."

"Yes!" He shakes my hand—which he still hasn’t let go of—up and down. "Yes, that’s what I want."

There’s a knock on the door, and I turn to find Mandy has popped her head through the door. "Uh, Brittney Ward is here."

"What?" Cesar’s face pales at the mention of his wife’s name. His knees seem to buckle, and now it’s me who reaches over and grips his shoulder with my free arm to steady him.

"Cesar, you okay?"

"Yes! No!" He glances about the room with the whites of his eyes showing. "I’m not ready to see her."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, he isn’t. I turn to Steve, who’s already backing out of the room. "I’ll keep her occupied for a little while."

I nod with gratitude. I trained him well.

Steve’s a one-time commando, who defied his superiors when they asked him to open fire on a target in Afghanistan where the fatalities would have included women and children.

He was court-martialed and tried. When I learned of his case, I intervened and helped him out, and defended him successfully.

I got him off free and have had his unswerving loyalty ever since.

He’s happy to work for me, and happy to do what I ask him to do without asking questions.

The door snicks shut behind him.

"Why don’t you have a seat?" I guide Cesar to the chaise.

When I pull back my hand, he releases it.

I sink down into one of the chairs opposite him.

Kate pours him a glass of water and hands it over.

He drains the glass, and when he lowers it, his arm trembles.

Kate tops up his glass then shoots me a look before she sits down in the other chair.

Cesar swigs the second glass of water as if it’s something stronger, then places it on the side table. He seems to have regained his composure, for when he looks at me, his features are calmer.

I lean forward in my seat and fix my gaze on him. "So, what’s the real story?"