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I returned to New York without the resolution I had been hoping for when I flew out to Seattle, but at least I was on speaking terms with my dad again

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I returned to New York without the resolution I had been hoping for when I flew out to Seattle, but at least I was on speaking terms with my dad again. He'd called while I was flying home to let me know that it had been nice seeing me and he hoped that I would visit them in Maine soon. I scoffed at the statement. Sure, I'd go visit them. Once I didn't have a career anymore for my mother to screw up.

When I got home, my apartment was cold, so I turned on the radiator, resting a pair of socks on it while I showered away my post-travel haze. When my head was finally clear - of the good and the bad - I dried off, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and shoved my feet into the warmed socks. I was dozing in front of the TV when my phone rang. I sighed at the number and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Eleanor, it's Macy."

"Hi Macy, what's up?" Macy ran PR for the company. It was never a good sign when she called a ballerina directly. It usually meant she wanted us to come in for promotional shots or statements for a magazine.

"Well we've had a bit of a hiccup for the company. Are you aware that Stefano is sleeping with the McNabb daughter?"

"I am, yes." A heavy pit settled in my stomach and I waited anxiously for her to continue. What had he done this time?

"Great, well they were photographed in a...rather intimate situation, and I was approached by the photographer who plans on running the story. Trouble is, I've been made aware that Rebecca McNabb has a boyfriend. A famous boyfriend."

"I wouldn't really call him famous." I retorted. I'd only seen Loren recognized in public a handful of times, and it was usually by middle aged men who wouldn't even dare to pick up a ballet related magazine. The two groups didn't seem to mix very much

"Yes, well famous enough to create a scandal for the company. I've also been made aware that you know her boyfriend."

"That I do." I answered slowly, not liking where this was going.

"I need you to inform him of the situation and make sure he doesn't pursue matters publicly."

"I what?" I deadpanned. "No. I can't do that. Don't we have people for that?"

"When we don't have access to the person individually. You're his friend, yes? Do it for his benefit, then. He'll be negatively affected by the press, too."

"I..." I trailed off, the pit in my stomach fully formed and aching. "I don't want to." I breathed. I'd done such a good job of avoiding having to tell him; I didn't like the idea that I no longer had the ability to let him figure it out another way.

"That very well may be, but we need you to do it." Macy continued. "The article is to be released in a week. Good luck."

"Yeah, thanks." I answered, dazed. I hung up and stared at the television blankly, questioning my choices. I could buck up and tell Loren about his awful cheating girlfriend, I could refuse and potentially risk my standing at work, or I could run away. Change my name, cut my hair, take up another job. Jane Doe the trucker from Colorado.

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