“You were in public,” Jane hissed through gritted teeth.
“We weren’t supposed to be, but that was half the fun,” Jackson admitted. He looked a little closer at the picture again. “I think her name was Heidi?”
“It was Tiffany. And she also says that you then had her sister come and join you after you trashed the bar. With a bar fight. It’s really thrilling reading.”
“Oh, yes. I remember Brittany. Those two were tigers in the sack.” Jackson smiled with the memory.
“Are you seriously not seeing the problem here?” Jane asked him, her hand going to her head like she had a headache.
“That I didn’t get their numbers? Or perhaps that there was a photographer at a private party taking pictures without consent?”
“No.” Jane narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s that your business is going down the drain and the only way to save it is to clean up your reputation. You tell me that you’ll keep your hands to yourself for a bit and stay out of trouble. And then you pour gasoline and light a match to destroy everything we’ve worked months for.”
“This is not my fault. You said to keep a low profile. This was a private party. I don’t even know how this photo got out.”
Jane rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Getting into a fist fight is not low profile. Fucking a girl on the bar is not low profile. Having a threesome with her and her sister in the hot tub of the hotel is not keeping a low profile. It doesn’t matter what the hell kind of party it was.”
“At least they had a good time,” Jackson replied with a smirk. He remembered now. It had been a great night. He leaned back in his office chair, keeping his cool.
“Right.” Jane glared at him. “Telling them to get lost after was a nice touch. Very gentlemanly. It’s really selling your product for you.”
“This will blow over in a couple of days,” Jackson told her. He sounded more confident than he felt. He’d never seen Jane this angry. The PR woman was usually the epitome of calm, always rolling with the punches. Physically, Jane reminded him of his very Italian grandmother, so her being angry was not a pleasant experience.
“It will not ‘blow over.’” Jane sighed and smoothed her hair back into the neat bun at the back of her head. “Sales are already down. The stock price is already down. The comments on our social media ads are out of control.”
“It can’t be that bad. It’s never that bad.”
Jane pulled out her phone and cleared her throat. “I used to love W&W products for my baby, but now I won’t buy them ever again. The owner is a horrible human being who obviously only cares about money and women. Why in the world would I buy diapers from him? Hash tag #lostcustomer and hash tag #FireWeathers.”
Jackson shrugged. “There are always negative reviews.”
“There are over three thousand like that on an ad that only ran for five hours,” Jane informed him. “We had to stop running the ad because of the negative comments. Our moderators couldn’t keep up with them. Hash tag #FireWeathers is trending right now.”
Jackson felt a cold settle over his shoulders. This could be bad.
“So, we change advertisements. I lay low,” Jackson replied.
Jane shook her head. “The board of directors is done with you. They’re starting to talk about kicking you out.”
“They can’t do that,” Jackson said, anger heating his voice just slightly. “This is my company. This is my father’s company.”
“They can if you are a detriment to profits.” Jane motioned to the newspaper. “Which you are. Your playboy antics are hurting your company and given the evidence, you don’t care. That story isn’t the first one to blow up since you were supposed to lay low.”
“The board shouldn’t care about this kind of thing,” Jackson said. The newspaper no longer felt silly. It felt like it might turn into a snake and bite him.
“And if your antics weren’t costing them money, they wouldn’t. You can’t treat women like that and not expect a backlash.”
“They consent,” Jackson informed her. “They come up to me and ask for this. They want their fifteen minutes of fame and are willing to use their bodies to get it. I’m not going to say no to a good time.”
Jane sighed. “I know you aren’t a bad guy.” She looked over at the newspaper. “But no one else does. They just see the headlines. And the headlines aren’t good.”
“What do you know about the board?” Jackson asked, pointedly looking away from the paper. “How much time?”
“Not long. This latest advertising blowup has them all riled. They want you gone,” Jane told him. “And right now, they’re right. You are costing profits.”
“I’m not losing my company,” Jackson growled. He got up and paced behind his desk. “What do I do?”
“Other than resign with what I assume you consider dignity?”