Chapter 4 CHA

(Claire Harrington's POV)

Claire remained in the apartment for the next several days. Ryan provided her the master bedroom, went racing practice by day, and arrived home with dinner and gossip of the racing world by night.

Every time Claire closed her eyes, the image of Adrian's icy rage and the burning humiliation of the Sterling Club haunted her. The pain still stung, but she steeled herself into adaptation.

The Harrington family's unofficial motto had always been: The story has to go on. She would not allow herself to be forever defined by scandal.

One morning, Claire emerged, smartly dressed in a crisply professional suit, light makeup on, with a new look of purpose about her. She ran into Ryan, who was returning with coffee.

"Where are you off to?" he asked, catching up to her.

Interview. With a leading PR firm." She gave him a hasty kiss. "Wish me luck, baby."

"Take some coffee!"

"Too late!" She was headshaking, clinking her high heels, and running out. Ryan stood there, realizing that she was independent and would never depend on him.

The interview was for a sales and communications position at a top PR agency-a job that played on her social networking skills. The HR manager was impressed. Her mom had dragged her to every major media event under the sun; she was familiar with the political climate.

"Ms. Harrington, your resume is top-notch. Your background-the daughter of Eleanor Harrington-is common knowledge. You naturally understand the media cycle," the manager said, spinning a pen and looking at her with admiration. "I fear that our humble company would be an insult to your capabilities."

Claire quickly saw: she was overqualified and perhaps too notorious. "I know the base salary for this job is minimal, but I survive on commission. My forte is reputation recovery and media relations."

She was in the right mindset. He was all but ready to send through the offer of the job when his phone rang.

"Excuse me, Ms. Harrington. This is the main office. Hold on a moment."

Claire nodded kindly. The manager left, returning a few minutes later with a troubled, secretive face.

"Miss Harrington, I do apologize. We... we can't take you on."

"Why?" Claire asked, the single word being tart.

"It is our company's decision, Ms. Harrington. You'll do better at a larger firm. I have no doubt you'll find a better job soon enough." He would not meet her eyes, clearly under a great deal of stress from someone in charge.

Claire's first interview bombed. She munched on a sandwich in front of the building, her head reeling. Only one person had the power to blackball her that quickly, reaching deep into the city's PR grapevine.

In the penthouse suite of the CEO of the Blackwood Corporation. Adrian listened to his assistant, Miles Grant (Carter), deliver him a low-key briefing.

"So you're telling me she was rejected by the Monroe PR agency?" Adrian's brow furrowed, his chill increasing.

"Yes, Mr. Blackwood. I believe Felicity Monroe was involved. She has a good link there." Miles noticed the flash of irritation in Adrian's eyes.

"Mr. Blackwood, would I perhaps attempt to suggest Ms. Harrington a research position at Blackwood Media on the down-low? A decent means of monitoring her whereabouts..." Miles proposed, being cut off by Adrian's irate stare.

Adrian strode over towards the window and stared out at the city. His black eyes scanned past the path of The Sterling Club. Claire's unyielding expression and ruthless performance were still unsettled him.

This is the Harrington legacy at work. She must understand the cost of her mother's act," he warned himself, resisting a wave of unwanted protectiveness. His throat tightened. "Keep monitoring her actions. Report any significant developments immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Blackwood."

Humiliation and New Resolve

(Claire Harrington's POV)

Having wolfed down her hasty lunch, Claire steeled herself and went straight to her second interview. Fortunately, she had a good list of applications. Her second prospective employer, a small research team for digital media, was also optimistic.

The interview was nearly over when the door to the office room was unceremoniously flung open. Felicity Monroe strutted into the room, a fat, smug-looking woman who dominated most of the space.

"Well, well. I did not expect to find you here, Claire." Felicity tossed up her nose in contempt. "Don't even attempt it, sweetie. You won't manage that one either."

"It's you." Claire got to her feet, taking up her bag, her glance shooting from Felicity to the middle-aged male interviewer, catching the fleeting, shared embarrassment.

"I forgot to say hello." Felicity smiled sweetly. "This is my uncle. You see, Monroe Holdings has its fingers in quite a few media pies."

Claire recoiled from the humiliating punch as the full weight of the Blackwood and Monroe merger fell on her. Her entire interview had been a frightful joke.

Felicity smiled, too, as she inserted herself between them. "I am truly sorry. But as Adrian's ex-wife-now something of a public humiliation-I just can't allow you to work where I have some influence."

"Fine." Claire turned from one cold tone to another with ice-kissed speed. "Sorry to have disturbed you."

She swept past Felicity, not going to waste another minute on the woman's spiteful viciousness.

Biting cold wind assailed her body-clinging suit as she remained at the doorway of the building. She did not stir, aware that her career was being methodically smothered by Adrian.

"Ms. Harrington." Felicity interrupted her, stopping her in her tracks.

Felicity extended a hand, displaying a simple white business card. Her red lips curled into a thin, wicked smile. "If you absolutely can't get a job in Ashford City's honest media, try this one, perhaps. I suspect you'll find your skills squandered here, though, after what I witnessed the other night."

Claire accepted it, reading over the words: The Sterling Club.

The night's humiliation returned to her. Felicity had known it all.

The card was a calculated, vicious taunt-a final attempt to break her. Claire smiled, a genuine, horrible lack of emotion in her eyes. "Thank you, Felicity."

Felicity was surprised for a moment, expecting tears or an outburst of rage.

"Claire!" A loud engine roar announced Ryan's arrival. He skidded his sports car to a halt, screeching. Off came the helmet, and he waved in through the window, having just exited the track.

"Sorry, I've got a ride. I'll be off." Claire nodded at Felicity. Underneath Felicity's aggressive and accusatory stare, she slipped silently into the front seat.

"Where to?" Ryan craned his head.

"Anywhere. Just drive away from this infernal media circus." Claire sat with her eyes straight ahead, a spark of renewed determination in her eyes.

"You got it! Buckle up!" Ryan floored the accelerator.

The howl of the car drowned Felicity's curse. She stood and pursued the receding black car, her fists jammed in her pockets. "Claire, I see you've acquired a new, wealthy source of protection in very short time."

(Adrian Blackwood's POV)

Eight o'clock that evening, at an expensive Regent Hotel restaurant, Felicity cut into her steak and talked freely. "Adrian, I met Claire and her... boyfriend today. The one from the Iron Cup circuit, Ryan Gallagher."

"Boyfriend?" Adrian laid down knife and fork, his expression immediately icy.

Felicity was taken aback for a second but regained speedily, her tone falling into over-the-top concern. "Yes. I did look into it. His family wealth is tied into the Grand Prix Association. It's not just that, Adrian. I hate to see Eleanor Harrington's daughter so comfortably living off her while she hurt you so terribly. Ryan is so overprotective of her. He was practically carrying around her bag and worrying about the paparazzi snapping her picture.".

Adrian's expression turned darker still, especially when Felicity added, "And rumor has it they're already living together in his downtown penthouse."

He slapped his fork on the table with a loud clatter.

"Adrian, did I say something I shouldn't have?" Felicity queried, playing the distressed victim to perfection. It was a masterful stroke at his pride. His ex-wife's moving on in such public spectacle was an enormity to the image of the invincible CEO of the Blackwood Corporation.

"No." He recovered from the momentary hesitation, his face again set in that usual cold neutrality. He folded the napkin and wiped at his mouth. "I'm finished. Miles will be along to escort you away shortly."

"Adrian, it's too late. You can't leave me here?" Felicity protested, frustration and perplexity creeping into her voice.

Be good. I have something to attend to." Adrian spoke the command with gritted teeth, his own patience clearly exhausted.

Felicity did not dare insist. She stepped out of the vehicle, and the door slammed shut behind her. The car sped off, disappearing into the city lights.

Felicity stood staring out into the deserted street, her teeth grinding. Adrian's response had assured her he still had feelings for her, but the instantaneous change from his cold attitude toward her unnerved her.

Adrian zoomed down, whistling wind snapping a protest: "Claire and that Ryan fellow live together."

Her mother lies buried, her name tarnished, and she can freely throw herself into the arms of a superficial racing heir.

"Claire, I clearly underestimated your capacity for indifference."

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, inserted his headset, and dialed a number.

"I want you to look into Ryan Gallagher's media background and any personal or family scandals that might have already happened. Investigate his Iron Cup sponsorship. And leak it to a pair of trusted rival publications. I want her support network to collapse."

(Claire Harrington's POV)

Claire had not made it through several interviews, but her concentration was still keen. She awoke each morning, the first thing to check the media and job sites.

Three days passed when she heard her phone ring. She was expecting an HR manager.

The line came through, and the voice of a middle-aged woman was on the other end. "Hello, is this Ms. Harrington? I viewed your resume. I'd like to meet with you.