CJ looks more distraught than usual. "What are we going to do? It's everywhere I look—on the TV, on the Internet, and even on the front page of today's New York Daily Journal," she says, pointing to the paper lying face up on my desk. She says this in one flustered burst. "If we don't fix this, we'll all be out on the street."
I look down at the paper and the headline reads, "Scandal and Corruption on Wall Street." The article goes on to read:
"The hard-charging so-called 'Shark of Wall Street' is being faced with a new kind of blood bath. Allegations are swirling of sexual favors for insider trading information. One source, who prefers to remain anonymous said, 'I understood immediately what was going on, which was that both Mr. Carlton and Mr. Hardman, with the aid of Ms. Vanderhill were sharing non-public information to conduct trades for the company, Dirty Lil' Angels.' Regulators are determining whether investigations will be needed."
I remove my eyes from the paper and pull my cell phone from my pocket. I need to speak with Sloane and Natalie. I dial Sloane first and listen to my phone ring. It rings and rings and rings, and then goes to voicemail.
Fuck. He's not answering.
Then I dial Natalie. Again, I wait and listen as the phone continues to ring until I'm directed to another voicemail box. Instead of hanging up, I decide to leave a message.
"Natalie, it's Drake. Listen, ignore the papers, ignore the news, and give me a call; we need to meet. All three of us need to meet. It's important. We can get through this."
And just in case she doesn't get to her voicemail, I follow up with a text.
"Plz call me bc it's important."
I take a deep breath and shove both of my hands in my pockets for a moment. Should I keep calling? Should I email them? Would any of that even help in this very moment?
It's clear I'm not going to be able to meet with Sloane and Natalie fast enough. With my best guess, it would take several hours at least. I think about Natalie and all of her work with Dirty Lil' Angels. I think about how much the company means to her, and how she's poured every ounce of her resources into the venture.
I look around my office, at all of the confused faces staring back at me. As their CEO, I need to do something about this, and I need to start moving now. I need to fucking lead, and I know exactly what my next step is going to be.
I turn to CJ.
She's staring at me wide-eyed, and waiting to hang on my every word.
"Set up a press conference for tomorrow … and tell everyone about it."
She nods her head and disappears.
Sloane
I don't know how Drake got any fucking sleep last night.
I mean, sure, shit was bad in the morning, but the level of fucked up-ness as the hours went by just seemed to get worse, you know?
Don't look at me like that. Don't shake your head. There wasn't anything I could do at that point.
The only think I could think of doing was talk to Natalie. Just a quick phone call.
Obviously, it probably wasn't a good idea to go to her place, or have her come to mine. Not with all the reporters I was seeing camped out on the sidewalk outside of One57.
Turns out there were reporters outside Natalie's apartment too.
I mean, it's not hard to tell why. A reigning king of Wall Street, the daughter of one of the most prominent politicians in New York City, and a venture capitalist like me, all having sex with each other?
You can't make this shit up. This is like one of those books that Alexis Angel comes up with. It just doesn't happen in real life.
Until it's happening now.
All of a sudden, people are seeing this happen right in front of their eyes and they can't get enough of it.
The news has been nonstop about this on television. They're waiting for the press conference to start.
It's being held outside Carlton Capital's headquarters and I decided to come see for myself. There's a pretty decent crowd standing on the steps of the building. It's reporters in the front and middle with regular people crowding to see what's going on too.
The newspapers f