Chapter 95 – Pleasing the Boss

Shiloh rushes past me, presumably to powder Hadrian, but I’m betting she’s also hoping to exchange a word or two with him before I get there because she can’t stand not being involved. I’m grateful, actually, because it gives me a minute to get myself together, so that when I walk out to join him, I don’t look like the nervous wreck that I am inside.

“Hi,” I say, when I approach, not sure how to greet him. Usually, I would shake the guest’s hand, but that feels too formal, and a k**s would be too intimate, not to mention mess up my makeup.

Luckily, he’s better at this than I am. He stands and leans in to p**ss his cheek next to mine—half hug, half European k**s without the k**s.

“You look spectacular,” he says.

At the same time, I lose all cool. “What are you doing here? This is crazy!”

“I’m proving myself, honeybee.”

My insides turn to goo at the endearment, but I’m still not sure I understand what he’s up to. “Okay. Want to tell me how, exactly?”

“Two minutes,” the assistant director calls, and my heart rate doubles.

Hadrian doesn’t bat an eye. “Well. This interview will only be aired on SHE. I can’t stop my news teams from commenting on it when it airs tomorrow, but you have the exclusive.”

“Okay, okay.” In other words, SNC won’t benefit from this interview. Furthermore, SHE will, especially considering how infrequently any Seymour sits down for a one-on-one with an interviewer they don’t employ.

He still might be trying to control the narrative, though, and so I ask, “Did you write the questions?”

He shakes his head. “I made some suggestions, but I left the rest to Jessa.”

“One minute.” The assistant director is looking at me.

“We should get to our places.” I hope I don’t sound as jittery as I feel. Wishing I’d had time to review the questions before I had to read them off the prompter. Praying I don’t make a total fool of myself on camera.

Hadrian sees through me. “You’re going to be great. And don’t hold back. I’m here for the beating.”

We take our seats across from each other on the set that’s made to look like someone’s living room. I had thought it pretty fancy before, but frankly, Hadrian makes the decór look plain.

Despite that, he looks comfortable, which is a sign of opportunity to a journalist willing to ask hard-nosed questions. The thought puts me in the right mindset, and when the clapboard sounds and the camera rolls, all the unease fades away, and I’m on.

My intro comes succinctly and naturally, and I only glance at the prompter to be sure I have a couple of my facts straight. When I welcome Hadrian, and except that he’s the hottest person I’ve interviewed, he’s like any other guest.

Then it’s onto the questions. “Tell me about the p**ssures of taking over a CEO position that, until a year and a half ago, was inhabited by your father since its creation. Many critics have stated that Samuel Seymour’s shoes are impossible for anyone to fill, including his own flesh and blood. Do those voices get in your head?”

I can tell from Hadrian’s reaction that he didn’t suggest this particular question. Jessa didn’t pull any punches.

“Wow.” He adjusts his already straight tie. “I guess we’re doing this.”

He takes a deep breath, and then he pours out everything. From growing up with a workaholic, perfectionist father as his idol to what it was like living with a mother who was mentally ill to his desire for succeeding where many of his family members have predicted failure to the lengths he’d go to earn his father’s praise. We volley back and forth with questions and answers, the conversation coming so instinctively, I barely have to look at the prompter for cues.

Okay, when I said everything, I didn’t mean everything. He stops short of calling his mother’s death a suicide, and he doesn’t talk about Hunter at all, and I remain professional and refrain from trying to pull those secrets out of him. Even without those off-limits areas, it’s apparent that some of his answers will rock the boat with the SNC board. A lot of them will piss off his father. I see the sacrifice he’s making, what he’s laying on the line for me, and he’s already proved himself before we even get to talking about us.

When the natural opportunity arrives, I bring up my show without hesitation. “Many of our viewers know that I was employed for a brief time with SNC. Could you tell me about how the p**ssures of wanting to imp**ss your father, the board, the world, how this enormous p**ssure led you to promote Our Nation Now?”

It’s kinder than necessary, giving him the benefit of the doubt in the lead up. It’s an approach more fitting for Fresh Air and Barbara Walters, and not one I usually employ, but it fits the style of this particular show, and besides, I don’t really want to see Hadrian suffer. I just want to know he’s willing.

“Good question, good question.” He keeps his eyes locked with mine. “I, um. It was a risk hiring someone virtually unknown. I hope you don’t mind me referring to you as such.”

“No, that’s appropriate.”

“I recognized your talent and knew that was the direction I wanted to take SNC, bringing in a fresh perspective, but drawing viewers in is always daunting, particularly when it’s something new, which is no excuse, but it sets up the situation. Anyway, I knew that if people thought we were having an affair, they’d be likely to tune in.”

“So you leaned into that notion.” I want to clarify his point further. “And used your position of power to force me to make appearances that would lead to these claims, and then purposefully didn’t make an effort to correct reports that we were indeed together.”

“That is correct.”

“And did that work?”

“It did work,” he says. “You pointed out, correctly, that it wasn’t a tactic that would likely last, but we ended your involvement with the show before we could really test that out.”

“Was my departure related to this false pretense that you created?” My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my ch*st. I have no idea what he’ll say, and I’m giving him the opportunity to not only expose his vulnerabilities, but possibly my own.

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