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

Chapter Fifty Seven: One of The Worst Days of My Life

**

I would have told you everything that happened at the Harrison Inc. Company party as it happened.

I would have told you about the chaos that ensued; the tears and the screams and the shock and the pain, not to mention the embarrassment. But everything happened so fast, I had no time to think straight. The world was spinning, and then it all went black.

So now, as I sit underneath my desk in my former office, dwelling in the dark with my canister of wine in my hand as the rest of the party goers enjoy themselves in the conference room below, I will tell you everything that happened, and it is then that you will understand why I'm hiding in my old office as blackness and drunkenness consumes me.

Now...where to begin?

**
After the mysterious caller called me Friday afternoon, I racked my brain trying to figure out anything that could make sense. The paranoia was rising in me at such an alarming rate that I resulted to locking and barricading my door with chairs, pulling the curtains together and sitting in silence and fear.

My phone vibrated again; should I answer it, I thought to myself. Should I even look at the screen?

Slowly, I picked up my phone and saw that it was a text from Beth. Oxygen was reaching my brain better upon seeing her name:

"No problem!" she replied. "We should do dinner tonight with Paul since you're back!"

I couldn't do that—not with someone who knows what they know about me lurking about.

I texted back:

"I would love to, but not tonight; I'm super tired. But we can do lunch after Yoga on Sunday?"

"Yeah, definitely! See you then, love," she responded.

I turned off my phone and stared at the wall; the blackness of my TV and the silver clock ticking by the photos against the wall. The first name that came to mind was Garrett. "This isn't over" meant something, and the photo and call to my phone was probably what he meant. I was so stupid, underestimating his connections. Who did he pay to dig this up?

My head began to hurt. I haven't thought of Axel since I was seventeen, forcing myself to rid the memory of him.

"Let that shit go," Candy told me. "Stop thinking about him and leave it alone"

So I did, and it got to a point where I lived as if that part of my life never happened. Until now, when the demons lingering around the gravesite decided to dig it up and remind me what I ran from.

So for the rest of my night, I didn't touch my phone out of the fear that I would receive more photos of myself that I thought didn't exist anymore. I poured myself a glass of wine, made a bowl of cereal (I would have cooked, but my fridge was rendered empty after leaving food in there for a month) and watched TV the rest of the evening. Every time I heard footsteps from my neighbors I froze in fear.

Whatever Garrett had planned, it was working.

**

The next day—this morning, to be exact, I tried to focus my brain power on the party at Harrison Inc. later on in the evening. I got little to no sleep. Surprisingly, Pedro was comfortable enough to sleep at my side. He's never done that before.

Sarah and I exchanged text messages throughout the day, and during my free time I answered some calls from a few Press Telegrams. I'm no one special, so when six o'clock came around, I pulled out the same outfit I would have worn to any other event. I got dressed quietly and without any enthusiasm in my attitude, despite the fact that this could be a huge deal for Sebastian's image. Keep in mind that I was still a bit frightened—the mysterious caller hadn't contacted me again, but knowing that they were going to be at the party as they said, my nerves were beyond rattled.