Page 25 of The Price of Scandal

“And you’ll have your wrap after you eat your sugar like a good girl.”

Jane snorted from the back seat. “I really like this guy, boss,” she said with her mouth full.

“Come on, Emily,” Derek said, waving the donut in front of my face. My eyes ticked and tocked, following the pastry’s path. “You know you want me.”

I snatched it out of his hand just as the car behind us honked.

“Here’s for us and for whoever’s next in line,” Derek said to the cashier handing her two crisp twenties.

The cashier bobbled the cash, probably blinded by his obnoxious good looks. I soothed myself with a tiny bite of cinnamon and sugar.

“Mmmm.” There was nothing subtle about my vocal reaction to hot sugar exploding in my mouth.

“I quite like that sound,” Derek said as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Shut up,” I said and took a bigger bite.

“Now that we’re properly fueled,” he said, “let’s talk about your entrance to work this morning.”

“Get out of car. Walk into building,” I said, spraying crumbs all over the man’s dashboard.

He handed me another napkin. “That was yesterday. You didn’t smile or wave or answer any questions. You pulled up like Grace Kelly and let security whisk you inside.”

“And how does your vision differ?” I asked, losing the appropriate level of snark as it filtered through donut. I wondered if board meetings would be more pleasant if I provided pastries.

“We’re going to get out, laughing and smiling like we haven’t any cares in the world. You’re going to hold that donut just as you’re doing now. And you’re going to smile at those photographers like they’re your best friends.”

“Why would I do that? That’s just going to encourage them to ask questions.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“What if they ask about you? I’m supposed to say, ‘Oh, my board hired a breaking and entering babysitter for me to make sure I don’t ruin a multi-billion-dollar empire’?”

“Well, let’s hope there’s something that rolls off the tongue a little more naturally. Should you start to spiral in that direction, I’ll step in and handle it,” Derek said smugly.

I hated people “handling” things for me and had the distinct impression that he’d guessed that.

“I don’t want to stand around on the sidewalk answering questions about cocaine and bad dates. I want to go inside and do my fucking job.”

It was almost laughable that everything I’d worked so hard for was hanging in the balance. One tiny misstep, and I could lose everything.

“Just remember, you need the people out here with their cameras,” he said, rolling to a stop in front of my office building.

I scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“You want something from them. You want their absolution. Their support. Their favor. You want them skipping out to buy shares of Flawless when it goes public because they like you, they believe in you.”

My expression told him in no uncertain terms what he and the rest of the people on the sidewalk could go do.

“Try to be slightly human,” he suggested.

Jane snorted. “Good luck with that.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, boss,” she said, clearly not remotely apologetic.

Derek leaned over me for the door handle. “Now, hold your donut up, darling, and smile.”