Modern Girl's Guide to Friends With Benefits (28 page)

"And what is it you propose we do?"

"I've got a call in to a friend who deals with this kind of thing."

"This kind of thing?" Peter said, biting back an irrational laugh. "So you have some fairy godmother that goes around magically fixing people's sex scandals?"

"Yes," Matt said, deadpan. "Do you remember Naomi Dhawan from Boston? She's a media crisis consultant."

"Naomi? Your friend from college? I thought she was in advertising."

"Advertising. Media spin doctor." Matt shrugged. "It's all selling the public something. She's good at her job and has had some very high-profile cases. She can help fix this, but she's going to need to know a few things. So I'll repeat my question from earlier. How long have you been sleeping with Megan? Did you know about this other stuff she was involved in? The books and the wild parties?"

"Please tell me you don't believe that shit," Peter said. "Most of that stuff is taken out of context." He pointed to the photo with Connor and Patrick. "Those guys are just friends, and they're a couple. She's not sleeping with them. And the other stuff?" He shook his head, still dazed by the whole story. "We're talking Meg here, not some society darling. She's always stayed out of the media. I can't believe it made the front page, even. No one will care by next week."

"You're wrong about that. It's an election year. I can guarantee that photo is going to be the centerpiece of a major attack ad. I thought Simon was going to have a stroke this morning when he found out. You know how hard he worked at keeping Megan out of the media when she was a kid. Hell, all of us did. How many reporters did you chase off when we'd go out? And now it's you she's with on the front cover of the paper. This is a fucking mess."

Peter wanted to believe that the whole shitty situation would just blow over, but he knew Matt was right. This was a disaster. And it was the photo of her exposed in the alley that made the entire story plausible. The sad thing was, he didn't have a single excuse for his actions. He should have told his friends. If he had, they wouldn't have snuck out of the gala that night. There wouldn't be a photo of them on the front page.

"I'll tell you everything I know, but we can't do this without Meg."

"One step at a time. Naomi will need to work with her directly, but let's start by salvaging your relationship with Simon."

Chapter Seventeen

Modern Girl Tip #18 Demand Respect:
If the person you're casually sleeping with doesn't respect you, you need to respect yourself enough to get out. He might not be your boyfriend, but he still needs to treat you right.

After finishing twelve novels in the Alpha FBI series, Megan had developed a process. There was a predictable flow to the story. The characters developed over the narrative and the book would start to write itself. But this last book had been a nightmare. She'd had to rewrite the plot half a dozen times, neither of the main characters would cooperate, and the whole thing had taken three times as long as expected.

But the last week had gone well, and she'd managed to finish the book and get her edits done early. Maybe it was because Megan could relate to her heroine's plight. After a difficult case that almost cost both main characters their lives, the leading lady was rethinking her relationship with her hunky longtime partner. It took Megan forever to understand their motivations and figure out a reason why they would move their comfortable friendship into something more.

The nature of writing required the author to tap into personal experience. Megan always shied away from putting too much of herself in her books. And she definitely did bring her personal relationships onto the page. This time, however, the book was more therapy than anything else. She poured every feeling she'd had about Peter into her heroine, and in turn, was able to find some direction herself.

She was in love with Peter, and denying that fact was stupid. From the moment she'd laid eyes on him all those years ago, Meg had known he was the one for her. It made her sick to think of all the time she'd wasted fighting her feelings for him. He had been her first love, and now she wanted him to be her last.

It took Megan a little over an hour to do her final pass and send the draft over to her editor. While it was a relief to finally have the book done, the ending was bittersweet. Writing that book had taken a lot out of her, but it was a fitting swan song for the series. Regardless what the publisher wanted, she was done with the boys of the FBI. It was time to move on to something new.

Normally, she'd celebrate with a bottle of wine and a night out with friends. But this time she was thinking about something a little more intimate. It was too early to call Peter and beg him to play hooky, and she didn't feel like the trek up to the coffee house. So Megan opted for a nap. She switched the music over to a nice Spanish guitar mix, curled up on the sofa and passed out.

It felt like she'd only just closed her eyes when the whole room rattled. Megan panicked; jumped up too fast, slipped, and ended up falling hard on her ass. But where she landed gave her a perfect view of Connor breaking down the door with the sledgehammer.

"What the fuck?" she screamed at him as pieces of wood flew past her head. She yanked the earbuds out and screamed again. "Connor, stop it!"

"Megan, are you alright?" Beth squeezed through the splintered door frame past Connor. She fell to the floor beside her and crushed Megan into a hug. "Are you hurt? Did you take anything?"

"Take anything? What are you talking about?" Megan broke the other woman's viselike grip and glared at them both. "You mind telling me what the fuck you were thinking? Why did you bust my door down? We're never going to find another one to match."

"You scared us," Connor said, a deep frown marring his face. Megan couldn't remember a time she'd ever seen him so serious.

"I came over here as soon as Matt saw the paper this morning. I knew you'd be upset, and when you wouldn't answer the door or your phone, I got worried. Connor let me in, but we couldn't get into your office. I banged on the door for almost a half hour. You weren't responding to our knocks," Beth said almost in tears now. "We thought you'd taken something or tried to hurt yourself."

Megan just sat there on the floor, blinking at her friend, unable to process her words. While she was still in a stunned stupor, the other woman wrapped her into another hug, the large bulge of her belly not stopping her at all.

"Don't worry. We love you, and we'll get through this."

Those words broke the spell. "You really thought I was going to hurt myself? Me?" Megan pulled away, putting some much-needed distance between them. She knew they meant well, but really? "And what, pray tell, happened that was supposed to cause me to go into this self-destructive depressive spiral?"

"It's all over the front page of the paper," Connor said. "They've made some rather rude assumptions about you, and Patrick and me, for that matter."

"What are you guys talking about?"

Megan got off the floor and helped Beth up as she tried to explain the whole sordid story. The photos, the accusations about her sex life. It was ridiculous, almost laughable since, except for recently, she'd been pretty much celibate for the last two years. The whole thing would blow over in a couple of days. It would probably even help her book sales. The public did love a scandal. Megan logged on to her computer so she could see for herself while Beth continued to tell her that the guys were going to fix it. Like she was some damsel in distress who needed rescuing.

The story itself, even the lies, didn't bother her as much as the photos. The photograph with Peter was graphic. She could handle her own name being dragged through the mud, but she'd never wanted Peter to be hurt. And then there was the statement from her father. The bastard had sold her out.

"We've been concerned about Megan's drinking for some time now. I'd like to ask the public to give our family some privacy while we help my daughter seek the treatment she needs."

She did a search and found the story had been picked up in a few national papers. She could almost trace the evolution of the story from "Senator's Daughter: Controversial Erotica Author" to "Senator's Daughter: Out of Control Rich Girl With A Drinking Problem." No matter how they spun it, all of the stories were inflammatory, slut-shaming articles. Even if half the things they were saying she did were true, it was no one's business but her own. It wasn't like she'd been going out and murdering people, for fuck's sake.

"Did you see this?" Megan yelled, pointing at the screen.

"Sweetie, it's going to be fine. Matt knows someone who can help clear this up. Maybe even spin it into something positive."

"Patrick already talked to the press, denying any relations," Connor said. "He also charged those gobshites double for coffee. You know we'll do anything we can to clear your name."

"I could give a fuck about the crap that reporter pulled out of her ass. I'm pissed that my own father is making up lies." She turned on her phone, ignoring the full voicemail box, and dialed her father.

"Megan we've been trying to reach you all day. You need to come home right now," her father said by way of greeting.

"How could you?" she asked. "How could you lie about me to the press? I know we've never been close, but I always thought you'd look out for me."

"You didn't leave me much choice. I was just trying to salvage your reputation," he said, seemingly shocked that she wasn't thanking him. "We can send you to one of those spa rehab places out west for a couple of weeks and everything will be fine. The press will forget all about this other stuff."

"Don't give me that. You were just trying to save your own public image." Her relationship with her father had been a complicated one. After her mother had died, he seemed at a loss as to what to do with his misfit preteen daughter. They managed to come to a truce about the time she hit high school. Megan would stay out of trouble, and he'd ignore her less desirable qualities, like her friends and career choice. She might have been the one who broke that truce, but what he was doing was unforgivable. "And don't for a second think I'm going to rehab to bolster your career."

"I don't think you have much of a choice. Obviously you saw the article. The places they tracked you to were bad enough, but the photos. Megan, the gardener's boy? It couldn't have been someone like Ethan. We could have used that to our advantage. But no, you had to get caught with that boy."

"The gardener is a well-respected businessman who employs over a hundred people in your state. He built that business from the ground up. And that boy… That boy is one of my best friends. And the man I love. He's been there for me even when my own father wasn't. I'd pick Peter over a guy like Ethan any day. As far as I'm concerned, the issue is closed. If you continue to say I'm an alcoholic or disparage Peter in the press, I'll be forced to give an interview and who knows what I'm liable to say."

"Megan, be reasonable. You know I like the Bradley boy. I just meant it would be easier to spin if it had been Ethan. He comes from an influential family and they would back us up."

"We're finished with this conversation. Stop talking to the press or you won't like what I do next." Megan didn't wait for a response, she just hung up and dialed Peter at the office. Even his private line went straight to voicemail. "Why can't I get ahold of anyone at the office?"

"They forwarded the phones. There were just too many calls from the press." Beth handed her cell phone over. "You can try Matt's cell, but I haven't been able to reach him for the last half hour. Simon is on his way home, and he has a friend who specializes in media crisis who was supposed to meet with them." She laid a hand on Megan's arm and squeezed. "Like I said, the guys will fix this. There's not much we can do right now, and there's a news van outside. Why don't we go back to my house and wait?"

"I'm not some damsel in distress. I can handle my own shit." Megan grabbed her sweater and packed up her laptop. She didn't need the guys to handle anything.

"Working with the media, spinning things, getting people to buy into something, that's what the guys do."

 "And if this was you?" Megan asked. "Would you just sit back and let the guys handle it? Go home, Beth. I'm going over to Peter's. If they're there, we'll talk. If not, I'm making my own plan."

On her way to Peter's, Megan called her agent. There wasn't just Megan Shelton's reputation on the line here. She had to think about Meg Wylde, too.