“Precisely my point. If you’re going to continue on living in this...manner,” Mitchell’s eyes coldly swept the room, “then it’s time we bring in professional assistance.”
Nick, then only twenty-two, had pulled himself up to his full height. Looking almost as intimidating as his nightmarish father. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Quite the contrary,” his father replied dryly, “you need twelve. But Ms. Wilder here comes highly recommended. She’ll do for a start.”
Nick’s eyes flashed dangerously, but he reined it in—looking me up and down as if measuring how much trouble I might be able to cause him.
“Then I’ll find my own publicist,” he said coldly, pacing to the window.
Mitchell stepped in front of him in an instant, looking like he was on the verge of doing something I’m sure would have made me quit right there on the spot.
“You’re incapable of finding your own pants—if half of what they say in the papers is true.” There was a bit of a snarl in his tone. “You will work with Ms. Wilder. End of discussion.”
But Nick had never been one to take these injustices lying down.
“End of discussion?” he quoted in a voice that sent chills down my spine. “Lest I remind you, Mitchell, the second I turned eighteen I was more than able to make my own decisions—”
But Mitchell just laughed. A sound that sounded like gravel scraping down a freeway.
“Oh, I’m well aware of the decisions you’ve made.” His eyes swept his son from head to toe, making him stand up straighter in spite of himself. “Look at you. Drunk. Thoughtless. Ready to jump into the first empty bed you see.” He shook his head slowly, as his dark eyes dilated almost entirely to black. “For one of the first times, Nicholas, you remind me of your mother.”
With that, he swept out of the room. Leaving me standing behind him. Leaving Nick looking like he’d just gotten slapped in the face.
Today was looking to be more of the same...
“I cannot imagine what possessed you to put on such a spectacle, but the days of such antics are behind you—do you understand?”
Nick said not a word. He simply glared at Mitchell through a pair of red-rimmed eyes.
“The company is in a state of transition,” the man continued. “In just four short months, we’re undertaking the largest merger Wall Street has ever seen. Until the ink is dry, all of our shareholders will be holding their breath. The board will be holding its breath. I will be holding my breath. The last thing we need is a picture of you on the front of the New York Times, splashing stockbrokers from the middle of a damn fountain! Am I making myself clear?!”
It wasn’t often that the man yelled, and it had a profound effect on the room. I reached discreetly behind me to lean against the wall for support, and Nick clenched his teeth together as all the rest of the remaining color drained from his face.
“Yes, sir.”
Mitchell nodded curtly, pleased with his compliance.
“We need stability. We need strength. And above all—we need calm. And you, my son, will become the embodiment of all those things.”
Nick’s chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. But when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly calm. “And how do you expect me to do that?”
“It’s actually quite simple, and nothing you haven’t done before.” Mitchell didn’t smile so much, as he bared his teeth. “You’re going to get a girlfriend.”
Chapter 6
“HEY—WILL YOU COME BACK here?! We need to talk about this!”
As Nick paced swiftly down the hall, I scampered after him—my bare feet skidding on the tile whenever I took a sharp turn. The departure of his father had left us momentarily speechless, but my darling client was never one to stay speechless for long. By the time the door clicked shut, he was already on to his next adventure—compartmentalizing his father deep into the dark recesses of his mind.
“Nick!”
It was like he didn’t even hear me. As he headed down the hall to take a shower, he started shedding what little clothing he had left—one piece at a time.
I ducked strategically as a crumpled sock sailed back my way.
“Nick—come on. This isn’t so bad.”
Sometimes, public relations was as much altering perceptions for your own client, as it was altering those same perceptions for the public eye.