“And then, you get some rest. Your email can wait until tomorrow,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a grin. “If you feel it’s best.”
Chapter 15
Derek
I KEPT TURNING SAM’S words around in my head. She was right. The media was still trying to eat me alive despite the official press releases through the public relations sector of my company. And it was brutal. The speculation and conspiracy theories that were catching on were starting to affect my stocks again. The wild theories on popular blogs were permeating through the public faster than I could swat them away, people who thought Jacob worked for some terrible government and some who thought he was a spy of some sort, a Russian or an Italian mobster sent to spy on one of the nation’s greatest financial holding companies. It was absurd, and everyone kept telling me that the only way to get around it was to do a personal and exclusive interview with someone.
So I called the only person who I felt could do the story justice.
“Derek?”
“Hello, Gretch.”
“What in the world are you doing calling me?”
“I’ve been taking a great deal of personal hits in the press, and I can’t seem to get out in front of them. I figured a little friendly press from someone whose career could use it would be of use to both of us,” I said.
“Wait. You’re willing to give me an exclusive interview?” she asked.
“I am. Whatever questions you want to ask minus anything feeding these wild conspiracy theories.”
“People get pretty intense, don’t they?”
“So, what do you say?” I asked.
“I say let’s get started. Give me a second to gather my things.”
I knew going to one of my exes might prove to be a fatal move, but she was the only other person I trusted at this point. If my own public relations sector of my company couldn't field this, then I knew she could. She was bold and brash, and while her pieces garnered her a lot of hate, it was hate from the right people. That kind of hate could fuel a career, but the only exclusive interview from the world’s most popular man right now would also do her some good.
Plus, it would flush the story immediately to the national syndicates and hopefully stop all this speculation in its tracks.
“Okay. I need you to understand that this phone call is being recorded. If you want something off the record, state that you want it as such so I can stop the recording,” Gretchen said.
“I can do that,” I said.
“Have you run this by your investors?” she asked.
“I run my company. My investors don’t. Trust me, this is the best move I have, and I want to thank you for helping me with it.”
“Then here we go. So, Derek Steele. When did all of this start?”
“It started with mysterious letters I was getting to my office,” I said, “letters insinuating that if I didn’t step down from my position and give up my company, someone would be sent to kill me. I thought it was absurd until there was an attack at my home.”
“What do you mean by an attack?” she asked.
“There was a breach on my property and letters started arriving at my home, threatening letters outlining everything from how I was going to die to outlining all the charities I needed to donate my money to before stepping down from my company. Some letters outlined my work schedules, others my personal schedule. You know, to prove to me that the person had access.”
“Was Jacob one of your top suspects?”
“On the contrary. Mr. Carl wasn’t even on our radar.”
“Walk us through what happened the night of the gunfire attack,” she said.
“My personal bodyguard was in the building with me at the time. Jacob slipped into my office, started talking about how I was born into success and how I didn’t have to work hard for anything I created. Then, he leveled a gun at my chest.”
“But you seem fine. You didn’t get hurt?” she asked.