Chapter 25: Nipping Scandals in the Bud
At Fullspeed PR’s office, the lights were still on late into the night.
Caroline Jones, with her golden straight hair and red lips, hung up the phone and pressed the intercom button. “Sasha, Amanda, co in.”
Two won, whose looks and figures couldn’t quite match Caroline’s, entered the office.
Caroline got straight to the point. “Ten minutes ago, Junkie Downey and Idiot Sarah were caught having an affair in a hotel. Soone took photos, and the matter has been escalated to us by the Boss.”
Sasha, curious, asked Amanda, “Were those two involved before?”
Amanda replied, “Yes.”
There was no ti to waste. Caroline issued orders. “Sasha, call all the major freelance journalist studios and active paparazzi. Find out who’s behind this.”
Sasha imdiately got to work.
Caroline turned to Amanda. “Contact all the major gossip dia outlets. If they’ve received any related news or photos, tell them to hold off on publishing.”
After a brief pause, she added, “Based on what Downey described, the photos were taken with a cara. Whoever has them will likely prioritize selling to print dia. This is a major scoop worth a fortune, and smaller tabloids won’t afford it. Focus on Us Weekly, National Enquirer, and Hollywood Life.”
Amanda nodded. “I’ll call those three first.”
Caroline clapped her hands. “Let’s get busy cleaning up after these two idiots!”
As her assistants began making calls, Caroline pulled out her makeup bag to touch up her brows and lips.
Soon, Amanda exclaid, “I’ve got sothing!”
Caroline imdiately grabbed her bag, her heels clicking as she strode toward the door. “Tell on the way.”
At a McDonald’s in lrose Square, Hawk arrived punctually at the designated location. Jas, an acquisitions editor for Us Weekly, was already waiting.
After introducing themselves, Jas cut to the chase. “Haven’t seen you before. New to the business? What’s this important scoop you ntioned?”
Hawk opened his laptop, allowing the slideshow of images to play as he turned it toward Jas. “Shot just half an hour ago.”
Jas took one look and imdiately recognized the value. “This is huge.” He asked, “Is the source legal?”
“Shot by , completely above board,” Hawk confird.
“Okay,” Jas said, just as his phone rang. After a brief conversation in a quiet corner, he returned and said, “Mr. Osman, this story’s value exceeds my bidding range. Please wait a mont; the editorial team will assess its worth shortly.”
Knowing Us Weekly wasn’t his only option, Hawk checked his watch. “Five minutes.”
From the mall entrance, three won walked into the restaurant.
Amanda subtly indicated with her eyes and whispered, “That’s Jas from Us Weekly, and the guy with him must be the seller.”
Sasha pretended to order food, casually passing by Hawk’s table. Her gaze briefly flicked over the laptop and cara bag before she returned with a tray of burgers and fries.
“It’s a young newcor,” Sasha said. “I’m guessing he’s fresh to the scene, carrying a laptop and a gear bag.”
“Perfect. I’ll talk to him and find out what he wants,” Caroline said, lowering her voice. “If negotiations fail, I’ll signal you for a more targeted approach...”
Sasha and Amanda nodded.
Caroline strode confidently toward Hawk, her high heels clicking rapidly.
Hawk, ever alert, glanced at her out of habit. Wealthy and powerful people rarely played by the rules. Rules were for ordinary folks.
The tall, curvaceous blonde with immaculate makeup and red heels quickly caught his attention.
Caroline, recognizing Jas, said, “Let have a word with him.”
In the PR world, relations with dia were often cooperative rather than antagonistic. Jas nodded. “Ten minutes.” He stepped aside.
Hawk closed his laptop.
Caroline sized him up. “No watch, no accessories, no cologne. Your clothes are from mid-range brands, and your hairstyle is outdated. Your skin tone suggests outdoor work—you’re struggling financially.”
She exuded confidence. “Listen carefully. What I’m about to say could help you escape your predicant.”
At that mont, Caroline presented herself as an elegant, slightly smug lady. Placing her Hers handbag on the table, she revealed a Cartier watch on her slender wrist. “I’ve worked a job similar to yours before. Back then, I was in an even worse state than you are now. Look at now: Hers bags, Cartier watches, Chanel dresses, and perfus...”
Hawk interrupted, “You’re a PR agent?”
Caroline smiled briefly. “A PR professional who transitioned from freelance journalism. Caroline Jones, Fullspeed PR. And you are?”
“Hawk Osman,” he replied.
Caroline quickened her pace. “Oh, Hawk, may I call you that? Thank you. My client is a generous woman with extensive connections in Hollywood and the dia industry. She’s happy to help friends, for example, by offering a stable job with a good inco.”
Seeing no reaction from Hawk, she added, “Of course, I wouldn’t let tonight’s efforts go unrewarded. Would you like to exchange those photos for so cash?”
Typically, the next step would involve Hawk asking how much, leading into a verbal trap that would fra him for extortion.
Instead, Hawk glanced at her Hers bag as she nudged it closer. What’s inside?
Ignoring her script, he replied with righteous indignation, “Though I’m just a freelance journalist, I hold myself to high standards. Every photo I take must be truthful and socially responsible. The public has a right to know!”
Caroline tried steering the conversation back. “You love journalism—great! My client and I can help you land a job at a dia outlet, like Newsweek, where Jas works.” She mid counting money. “How much?”
Hawk’s face grew stern. “You’re not just questioning my professional ethics—you’re insulting my character!”
Caroline remained outwardly calm but internally raged. Is this guy an idiot or a genius?
She glanced at him, doubting he leaned toward genius.
Hawk stood. “We have nothing more to discuss.”
The best PR strategy, of course, is to kill a scandal before it gains traction. Caroline tapped her Hers bag and offered, “$5,000. For all the photos.”
Hawk reached to retrieve his laptop.
Caroline suddenly laughed, her smile radiant but her words sharp. “Judging by your accent, you’re a Wyoming hillbilly. A simpleton from the mountains trying to make it big in L.A.? Don’t be naive.”
Retrieving her Hers bag, she drumd her fingers on the table. “I’ll find out who you are, everything you’ve done, and even the skeletons in your family’s closet. I’ll make sure you’re ruined.”
Hawk smirked. “Go ahead. Because I’ll do the sa. And trust , your skeletons outnumber mine by tenfold.”
Caroline froze montarily.
Across the room, Sasha and Amanda received the signal and sprang into action.
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