BooksBarbecue
Back First Comes Love
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

Now she stands up. “This interview is over. Over! You silly girl. Dare make public a second of this reckless ambush and you’ll never be able to show your face in Manhattan ever again. I’ll make sure no one ever hires you.”

I stand up as well. “I already have a job, thank you.”

“Not when I sue your little magazine for every cent it has.”

“I’m sure any judge will recognize the truth of our statements, or the IRS will. Mrs. Vanderbilt, I’m afraid it will be you hiding your face around Manhattan when this interview goes live. Because rest assured, it will go live…”

That’s when a composed, supposedly classy, if not very honest woman completely loses it and turns into a bratty child. Screaming and destroying everything in her path.

***

A few days later, everyone in the office has gathered behind my desk to watch the video of the interview on my computer. Well, everyone except for Richard, who, for some reason, has not shown up to work yet. I hate the disappointment I feel at him not being here to witness my success.

Where the hell is the boss?

“Uuuuuhh-uuuuh,” my colleagues cheer as they watch Rebecca Vanderbilt hit the camera.

I’ve uploaded the final footage to YouTube this morning and Hugo, our News Editor, has posted Michael’s supplementary article on our homepage.

“This is my favorite part,” Hugo says. “When she grabs the camera and sends it crashing down.”

“No, no,” Indira says. “You have to wait until the very end.”

We all keep our eyes glued to the screen. Now we can only see the marble floor of the Maison Vanderbilt flagship store through the cracked camera glass. And, of course, hear Rebecca Vanderbilt’s threats to sue us. She screamed a lot, and we had to add several censoring “beeps” to the audio file.

“Wait for it,” Indira mutters, “wait for it… There it goes.”

Rebecca Vanderbilt stomps her expensive stiletto on the camera and the video goes black.

Indira clicks her tongue. “Best finale ever.”

“Yeah, pretty cool!” Hugo agrees.

“I’m posting a screenshot of the stiletto of death on Instagram,” Saffron says.

“Refresh the page,” Ada asks.

I do as she says.

“How many views?”

“Fifty thousand,” I say.

“How long ago did you upload this?” Hugo asks.

I check the clock window on the screen. “About an hour. Are fifty thousand views any good?”

“Are you kidding me?” Saffron asks. “You’re on the road to get batshit crazy viral, girl.”

I smile. “I hope everyone sees this, and that the IRS indicts them.”