Present

 

“Bethany, for fuck’s sake, listen to me. This show of yours is going to have to change if you want it to continue. You’re going to have to compromise. The show is starting to stall in the ratings. You do the same segments, the same format.”

“So, instead of making the show really about the food, you want me to wear skimpy clothes and make it some kind of crazy reality show? The first season was a huge success and you know it! The second season was just as strong and brought in millions of viewers. How can you call it the same old, same old?” I shouted.

My producer has turned into a slimy asshole, and I should have seen this coming. The pompous jerk sat behind his oak desk, a pen between his fingers, and his black-rimmed glasses perched on his aristocratic nose. I sat in the chair across from him, with my arms crossed over my chest, glaring at a man who I used to admire. Elliot Rowling turned the Culinary Channel into a powerhouse. Now he wanted to turn the network into a circus. My focus on the show had always been about the food, sharing all of my know-how and my love for cooking. Seemed his focus was on how much tits and ass I could show without the censors being called in.

“Let’s be honest, Beth. The first season was a smash hit because you were riding the wave of winning The Competition. That was our highest-rated season of that show on this network! Ever. You know why? It was raw and it was real. But, baby, it was lightning in a bottle and your star is falling.”

The shock of listening to this man telling me that my career and everything that I had worked so hard for was hanging in the balance made my knees shake. Still, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing that fear. It would give him more power to use against me. I crossed my legs in the sensible business casual skirt I was wearing, uncrossed my arms, and with my gaze never leaving his face, settled my hands on my lap. I wasn’t going to back down. I had been made promises, and they were going to be kept. Lucky for me, I had a great agent and an even better lawyer. 

Celeste was going to get an earful once I left this office. She should have been called in here with me. Rowling knew that she wasn’t going to be able to be in this meeting today because she was so sick with the flu she could barely move from her bed. I bet he didn’t even bother to call Jessa either. I checked my clutch just to make sure my phone was close at hand. A peek at the screen showed no new messages or missed calls.

This was a setup. He was trying to isolate me so he could beat me down. I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him.

“So, what you’re saying is that I either get sexy or get going?” I demanded. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

Elliot leaned back in his chair and gave me a hard stare. “What I’m telling you, Bethany, is that you should think about where you want your career to go, and if you want it to continue here. I will not let one show drag the rest of the network down.” With a shrug, he lifted his shoulder and delivered his final blow. “So, you can revamp or remove yourself. The choice is yours.”

I was so angry I felt my face burning. With each word out of his mouth, I saw all the sacrifices I had made be rendered insignificant. I left a position in a restaurant that I loved — I left the man that I adored to take a chance on expanding my career.

Now this?

“I see. How convenient that you decide to spring this on me with Celeste down with the flu. Did you even bother to call her? You know that she should be in here with me. You called me in under some crazy excuse of checking on me and wanting to know what my plans for next season were. You already know the plans! You approved the fucking scripts. Filming starts this week, Elliot! You know that!”

“Celeste was made aware of this meeting, Bethany. It’s not my fault she didn’t contact you or send a backup agent to cover you. Maybe you should consider changing agencies. And before you say another word, I did call your attorney. I’m not trying to railroad you. I’m trying to protect this network and you.”

I threw my hands up with an exasperated sigh and rose from my chair. Protect me? By killing a show that I worked so hard on? I knew I wasn’t going to be able to be still or stay quiet. This man was trying to take away my dream. I leaned over the desk and didn’t hesitate to speak my mind. I was done being the nice one.

“Then where is Jessa? She would be interested to know her client was being dismissed after intense contract negotiations, where promises were made and signed on. I could sue your ass for this.”

Elliot looked surprised and taken aback that I would actually dare to speak back to him. I watched him blindside some of the other hosts on this network, making them change who they were and the direction of their shows, when their shows were doing so well. The man was a control freak. My ratings and audience appeal were high enough that he always let me have my way. I had creative say-so after that first year. I had proven I could carry the show on my back with fun segments and interaction with my fans outside the studio.

It didn’t matter that I was burnt out from the backstage bickering and backstabbing. I was trying to come up with fresh ideas and new recipes to keep my audiences turning the show on week after week, and it was wearing on me. But this man had a motive for doing this to me now, and if he thought, for one minute, I would sit back and forget about the lewd pass he made at me a few days ago… oh, he was in for a very unpleasant surprise.

“Well, Miss Thorne. I didn’t think a sweet southern girl like you could be so bitchy.” The snide remark slid from his lips with a nasty smirk. “We don’t have to do this, Bethany. This is beneath you.”

“No, Elliot, what you wanted was me beneath you. I find it interesting that you decided I’m a threat to the ongoing success of the network, after I turned you down last week when you wanted me to bend over this very same desk and let you, oh what was it you said? Fuck this sweet southern ass.”

He actually had the nerve to look me in the face and laugh.

“You don’t have to be so crude, little lady.”

“You are a vile, disgusting piece of shit. I admired you, respected you for all that you had accomplished here. I wanted to be a part of this for years to come. What a sleazebag you are, Mr. Rowling.”

I watched as the humor left his face to be replaced by anger that turned his features hard as granite. He stood up from his desk and walked around to stand in front of me. He crossed his arms and stared down his nose at me with a huff. He was hoping his height and anger would intimidate me and make me give in to his demands. I may have only been five feet tall, but I came from strong Georgia stock. I wasn’t going to turn my show into a knockoff of some sad reality TV show.

“Brave words, little lady. But with the two words you’re fired and a couple of phone calls, I can kill any chance you have of ever having a career in the culinary business. Unless you want to wash dishes for the rest of your life. Whether you like it or not, I hold all the cards here. I have the ratings to back me up. So I offered you a way to keep your show on the air? Ehh, I was feeling generous.” He reached out and trailed two fingers down my cheek, and I saw the lust and his misplaced power heat his pale blue eyes. “Ahhh, but I love your fire. It would be an honor to break you. Teach you how to be a good girl and the perfect arm candy for me.”

This bastard had the nerve to actually touch me. Soft hands, but a hard, cruel streak. It made my skin crawl. I pulled back from his touch so quickly his hand dropped to his waist. With a lift of his right shoulder, that vicious smirk was back and my patience snapped.

I reached back and with all my five feet of southern sass, I slapped Elliot Rowling with all of my might. The force of it stung my hand and the sensation traveled up my arm. I shook out my hand and formed a fist. I was ready to do battle if I had to. As he put his hand to his cheek, I could see that there was a red handprint blooming.

Good. Score one for Bethany Thorne.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Touch me.”

His eyes seemed to blaze that much hotter, as if my outburst only turned him on more, but under that heat, he was furious that I’d had the gall to hit him, to stand up to a bully in a custom-tailored, buttoned jet-black Armani suit and shiny Italian shoes. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He knew he had crossed the line. 

With my chest heaving, I shook my head at him and pointed my index finger in his face. I lowered my voice, just so he knew I didn’t have to scream to make my point. He already thought I was a bitch? Well, I was going to show him. I was in control, and I was going to stay in control.

“You think you have the upper hand? Do you? I have a signed extension on my contract with Culinary that says otherwise. Even if I had thought about leaving, I’m now going to be in your face and a pain in your ass, until I decide I want to leave. You want to get rid of me, Rowling? Try. I dare you.”

I turned my back on him and reached for my clutch. The adrenaline had me jumping out of my skin and I knew I had to get out of this office before I crashed and made a fool of myself. I had spoken my piece. It was time to put some distance between me and the devil. I took in a deep breath and headed for the door, but before I left, I turned around to give my boss my last word.

“Oh, and by the way…”

Elliot had rounded his desk and was pulling out his chair. He gazed at me as he unbuttoned his jacket and sat back down. His eyes had lost the lust, and all that was left was the fury.

“I have a previous commitment—a very important one—and I won’t be available to begin filming the first few episodes. You want to continue this conversation civilly and with a little bit of professional courtesy, call Celeste. She knows where to find me.” I opened up the door and took two steps to leave.

“You are finished, Bethany.”

I looked back over my shoulder at the man whose face had my handprint across his cheek and with my own smirk, volleyed a parting shot.

“Not by a long shot, boss.”  

After I left Rowling’s office, I immediately called Celeste and Jessa. No surprise to them that they received a phone call about the meeting after the meeting was over. When I hung up, I walked over to my studio and let the staff know that I would be leaving for a while. I assured them that they would continue to receive their paychecks, and that I would be back in the studio as soon as I could. I knew filming was set to begin and we had scripts in place but more and more, I was feeling that it was best for me to get out of New York. First, I needed to see my lawyer, and then I needed to get on a plane to Georgia. No way was I dragging my sick agent to my apartment to talk about this. I had her on Skype on my laptop, but even in her weakened condition, her anger rang loud and clear.

“He what?!”

Celeste Cox was one of the best entertainment agents in New York City. The demand for her services was so great that she could take on as many or as few clients as she wanted. She took me under her wing when she didn’t have to. She claims that she saw so much potential in my performance on The Competition that she wanted to make sure that I was protected. Along the way, she became one of my best friends, and I would be lost without her guidance. She’s a dynamo in four-inch heels. Nothing can take out this woman… but the flu.

“That contract is ironclad. There’s nothing that pompous asshole can do. I will bury him in motions until he can’t see straight.”

Jessa may give off the appearance of a quiet Ivy League educated lawyer, but she’s a tough-as-nails litigator who has been by my side throughout my time at Culinary. She was currently pacing back and forth in front of my picture windows. When Jessa starts talking with her hands, I know that she’s really wound up and preparing for battle. Another dynamo in four-inch heels.

Well, given that she and Celeste are family, I shouldn’t be surprised. These two sisters didn’t care about half. They were sisters, period, and the bond they shared made me envious. They ran The Cox Agency so smoothly and they worked together like two cogs in a wheel. The offices felt like family because it was family. I’m just glad they let me in.

“Jessa, that fucker touched her. That pig touched my client! He talked to her like she was property and then propositioned her to be his “good girl”? I want him exposed and thrown out of television. That asshole shouldn’t be anywhere near a woman. Apparently he hasn’t learned a damn thing about the Me Too movement, or from the last time that we had to deal with him.”

Jessa walked over to the laptop and leaned on the counter to have a better look at her partner. She shook her head because Celeste certainly didn’t look well by any stretch. In fact, she looked like death warmed over—twice. “Sis, you need to rest. You look horrible.”

I couldn’t help myself. I had to giggle. Leave it to Jessa to cut the bullshit and get right to the point. Celeste certainly didn’t appreciate the statement or the humor I found in the situation. “Well, you come down with the plague and see how you look! And what are you laughing at, BT? Fine. I’m going back to bed. Jessa—”

“Yes, Celeste. I got this. If you’re worried about the conflict, don’t.”

Conflict? What conflict could there possibly be between Celeste and Elliot? There’s some story there. I’ll have to wait and see how this will all play out while I’m in Savannah. But if Celeste is involved, then I’m sure the play-by-play will be interesting.

“I will be by with soup later. I’ll update you. Unless, of course, you have that yummy rival of yours coming by?”

For the first time today, I smiled a very genuine smile. “Ohhhh… Nathan. Now there is a reason to get out of bed, Celeste.”

“Or stay in with him,” Jessa remarked with a wicked grin as she turned her head toward me. I agreed with nod and an evil giggle of my own. Jessa and I turned to the screen with a knowing look. Celeste let loose a nervous groan, and the blush on her face was definitely not from a fever.

“Well, isn’t that a telling look. All right, lady. Spill. What’s going on with you and the hottie from the other agency across the street?” I lifted my eyebrow with a smirk.

“First, there will be no visits from Nathan. Second, I am sick. I am going back to sleep. Bethany, be careful, and if you get any calls or emails from Rowling, ignore them and contact us. I’m actually glad the party is this weekend. It gives you some time to regroup. But no way are we letting that pig get away with this,” she retorted in a hoarse whispery voice. Her forehead was beaded with sweat and her once rosy complexion had gone back to the pale look she’d had at the beginning of the conference call.

“Okay, you. Bedtime. Thanks for talking me down. Rowling makes me nervous, and I think he’s going to put a target on my back now. The show won’t survive with his type of tactics. I’ve seen him destroy people.”

“Stop worrying. Go to Georgia,” Celeste commanded.

That was easier said than done. As the worry snaked through my mind, I thought about my crew and all the people dedicated to my show’s success. I couldn’t let them down. I ran my hands over my face, disturbing my curls. I felt the adrenaline crash coming, and the events of the afternoon came rushing at me. I lowered my head and took in a deep breath, quickly releasing it. I had to get this under control. I couldn’t have Celeste and Jessa worried that I would fall apart. I looked up at the screen on my countertop with a pained smile and told Celeste goodbye. With a small wave, she signed off but not before she threw her sister a concerned look.

Jessa wrapped her arms around me in a warm embrace, her front to my back. I grasped her arm and gave it a squeeze. I wasn’t fooling her, though. She knew that I was a wreck and terrified of what would happen next.

“Bethany, I know you’re worried, but we’ve dealt with dicks like him before. You’ve worked hard to get here, and you know we’re so proud of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. I made you that promise years ago, and I mean to keep it.”

I turned around and hugged my friend and the best lawyer in this town, with all my might. Who knew two years ago that a girl from the South would meet two Yankees and grow to love them so much? “I know I’m in good hands. I trust you both with everything I have, Jessa.”

“We know that,” she said to me with a smile that lit up her eyes. With a final squeeze, she let me go. “So, I take it you made a reservation to go to Savannah on a commercial flight?”

“I did.”

“Cancel it. I think with everything that’s happened today, you need some privacy. I’ll call ahead and have the agency plane on standby for you. Don’t worry about a ride from the airport. I’ll make sure there’s a rental waiting. Plus, I’m sure by now Rowling has started his game of Let’s Break Bethany. For now, I think you need to give social media a break, and I want you to take some extra time off. I’ll call over to Culinary and explain.”

The feeling of gratitude and relief took second place to the worry that I was holding onto, and my shoulders slumped. I don’t think I could have handled signing an autograph or posing for a photo today. I loved my fans. They’d given me everything I could have ever asked for, but today, I needed to not have to be Bethany Thorne, celebrity chef.

I needed to be in Savannah.