The Publicist's Plight (Book I in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Eighteen: Raise Up

Fiona is sitting next to me on the couch in the guest house. Loretta is next to me as well, offering me a glass of warm tea that awakes my congested nostrils that occurred due to my crying fest.

I sniffle and take the steaming cup from her hands, "Thank you."

"No problem, honey." The unease doesn't leave her features. "What happened?"

"Yes, what happened?" Fiona asks as she rubs my shoulder. The contact is something I'm not used to, especially from a motherly figure such as Fiona. She sees how tense I am and stops, but I can't help myself: I broke down, crying in the kitchen in front of Fiona Vaun, which resulted in her having to help me to the guest house as the tears kept flowing like a river. Usually I'm very well-composed in situations that are water-work inducing, but for some reason something snapped in me. I believe I was "triggered" somehow, which isn't something that has happened to be since about a couple of months ago when I yelled at Hudson fiercely when he suggested I should start eating garden salad.

I shake my head and blink the burning sensation away from my eyes, "Nothing. It's...stupid and pointless and...God," I chuckle halfheartedly, "I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be!" Fiona insists, staring at me with no sort of restraint in her eyes. "Is it stress? Did someone say something about you?"

I shake my head at the first guess knowing she doesn't know which one I deny.

"It's nothing, I swear it's...I'm just overwhelmed."

I'm a fool to believe I could lie to Fiona, especially since she's a mother of four who has most definitely gone through something like this before with one of her children. The way she looks at me, it's as if she knows I'm lying, yet is waiting for me to cave in myself.

"Was it Sebastian? Sarah? Lucas?"

I don't answer.

"All three of them?"

I smile and sigh, "They were just saying...stupid things. Being immature. I shouldn't have taken it so strongly like that," I shrug it off like it's a small comment that started this. "They didn't mean it."

I see anger in Fiona's eyes, "That's no excuse for them to make you cry, though."

I don't know what to say. I look at Loretta, who looks a tad sad, then down at my cup before I take a drink of tea.

"I don't even want to know what Sebastian said," Fiona mumbles sadly. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. We've all just been...really stressed lately and a little disagreement lead to just...chaos. And I let it get to me for a moment," I laugh. "I'm honestly not a crier. I don't know what came over me."

It's true. It takes a lot for me to cry about something. I guess my life experiences have conditioned me to know how to filter out things and determine whether subjects are worthy enough to dwell and eventually cry on.

I stand up slowly, "I think I should start getting back to work. I have so much to do."

"What? Oh, absolutely not. You've been working too hard, Leslie. I think you should rest."

"Miss Fiona is right." Loretta takes the tea cup from my hands and looks at me seriously.

Are they implying that I actually take a nap?

Even though I protest, Loretta is so insistent that I'm already halfway to the staircase. There's no way I can possibly take a nap now. That's two to three good hours I can spend contacting Felicity's reps to the point where they feel obligated to pick up the phone. If I'm asleep during that window of opportunity? Loss of essential time.