Caught On Camera: The CEO's Scandalous Muse

SUSAN'S POV

I adjusted my grip on the phone, kneading my forehead with my other hand, as a headache cropped up.

The recipient on the other end of the line, had launched into a lecture I had heard so many times by now- of a past I wished everyone would forget.

It had become a painful reminder; it would have been easier if the lady had just turned me down from the start.

"What? No! I can assure you, I am not an alcoholic." I emphasized for the umpteenth time that day, "I really do not know what happened. I-".

The older woman cut me off before I could defend myself, her tone curt and full of distaste.

"It's disgraceful, Susan. We hold an honest profession. You should know better than to do... that!"

My cheeks flushed slightly.

She couldn't even say the word.

I couldn't either.

I was still so ashamed, even though time had passed.

"My kids could have seen that!" The older lady continued, and then sighed, "Susan, you're a talent, I know that for sure. But I'm sorry, N Media cannot accept someone with such a promiscuous record."

I sighed heavily, as she dropped the call.

At least she didn't hang up immediately, as soon as she heard my voice, like the other media houses I had called earlier had done.

I looked around my apartment, and blinked back tears. With my rent due, I doubt I could still call it mine.

My gaze fell on a stack of unpaid bills on my desk. Their words seemed to scream at me. The letters from the banks to pay up one loan or the other, seemed to mock me. I had exhausted all my savings, and frankly, I needed a plan.

The tears that had been threatening to fall, slowly rolled down my cheeks.

"F*ck!" I cussed as I wiped them off hastily.

I was so frustrated that my past haunted me.

***

FLASHBACK

The last time I felt in control of my life was two years and one hundred mistakes ago.

My life was perfect.

At least as perfect as it could be.

I was one of the top twenty news anchors in the country, with the highest rating on my shows in my company. People recognized me on the street, asked for autographs. I got praises, and I was heading towards a promotion.

I was living the dream.

Back then, as an ace anchor, I was gaining popularity that I hadn't anticipated. I had friends and connections in places that matter. I was very well favoured.

I had also caught the eye of Josh Stuart, one of Sky Networks' highest paid anchors.

If I was among the top twenty best anchors, he was among the top three; he was that good.

I didn't understand what he saw in me to take interest in me. It was all too surreal. After about a year of dating, he proposed.

I said yes, obviously.

I mean, who wouldn't?

He was the man of every girl's dreams, and I was just lucky to be the one he chose.

Everything was just too good to be true... until it was not.

Just a week after my engagement party, I was still riding on the high of it all, with a wedding to plan on my mind. I had spoken to my mum and she was happy for me.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, when my world turned upside down.

I was getting ready for my noon broadcast, and I needed a caffeine boost. With little time to go get it myself and prepare, I asked an intern to get me some. I took it in haste as soon he arrived and I downed every last drop.

Ice Americano, no sugar.

That was all I remember taking.

Nothing else.

"Susan? Susan? Susan!"

I blinked hard at the caller. My vision appeared to see more than one person. I shook my head, trying to come back to my senses, and realized it was a guy from the production crew. I couldn't remember his name.

"Are you okay? You're up." He seemed genuinely concerned.

I frowned, "Yeah, I'm fine."

I headed to the studio and sat down as the makeup crew touched my face a bit, and the production crew fit in my microphone.

I began to mutter my lines under my breath as I read from the paper in my hands. Few seconds to time for my broadcast, I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I stared at the words again and they seemed to blur on the pages.

What was going on?

Was I tired?

The microphone in my ear told me that I had five seconds until cue time. I stared directly at the camera and put on my TV ready smile.

"And cue!"

"Good afternoon, and thanks for tuning in to Sky News at Noon. My name is Susan Carter with the news." I read expertly from a teleprompter.

"Why is her speech slurred?" I heard someone say.

"Susan, your eyes look a bit unsteady, are you okay?"

I didn't realise that these words were being directed at me through the microphone in my ear, because I was on a high that couldn't be explained.

The smile on my face stretched to an exaggerated degree as my words began to sound like gibberish, "This suspicious very first-hiccup-conscientious-hiccup-"

"Susan! What the hell are you doing?! YOU'RE LIVE!" I heard someone shout into the microphone.

"Ouch! Why are you shouting?" I took out the microphone from my ear and began to fan myself.

It suddenly felt so hot in the studio.

At this point, I had no idea I was doing this. I only found out later, when I watched the clip.

"It's so hot. Why is it so hot here?" I said.

By now I had abandoned the script as I focused more on getting some air. Fanning myself didn't seem to work, so I began taking off my shirt. I was left in just my bra and pant trousers. I didn't focus on the gasps of the camera crew or the fact that I was doing this live on air.

Suddenly the lightheaded feeling got to me

I felt an inexplicable urge to puke, and...

Yes, I emptied my stomach on the table.

I was covered in my own vomit.

It was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to me, and to the network in general.

••••

When I came to and realised what I had done, I couldn't explain the situation no matter how hard I tried.

"What has gotten into you?" My boss, the head of the news team Laurel queried, "How could you drink on the job? If you had problems, why couldn't you say so?"

"I swear to you, Laurel, I don't know how this happened. You've known me for five years, you know I would never do that."

"Really?" Laurel then called her assistant, "Did you get the breathalyzer?" Her assistant nodded and gave her the device.

I was stunned.

"Come on, Laurel. Don't you trust me?"

"I do. But I just need to make sure. If you didn't take any alcohol, you wouldn't mind if I tested you with this." She said waving the device in my face.

"Okay. Suit yourself." I blew a breath on the device. Even though I couldn't explain why I had behaved the way I did, I was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with alcohol. I couldn't handle alcohol, so I stayed away from it.

Besides, if I could handle it, why would I drink on the job?

Laurel frowned at the device.

I sighed. Surely, by her look, she had seen the result and realised I didn't drink.

"See? I told you!" I said with a satisfied smirk.

"Hmm... interesting," Laurel started, "I didn't expect you would lie to me."

She seemed pissed.

"Wait, what?"

No way. My self righteous smirk immediately wiped off my face.

I grabbed the device from her, with more force than I intended. It read 0.08% BAC. That was impossible.

"Is this thing broken?" I asked to no one in particular.

Laurel stood watching me, with her arms folded over her chest.

"No, wait. There seems to be a mistake-"

She held up her hand, stopping any further comments from me. "Stop it, Susan. You'll only embarrass yourself further. Effective immediately, you are fired from Sky Networks. Good luck finding a media house that would take you in, after the nonsense you pulled on air."

Every word after that, every plea fell on deaf ears. I was screwed. But I still had Josh at least. He was away from the company for outside duties, but I was sure he had probably heard the news or rather seen it.

I turned off my phone as messages and calls began to pour in. Family and friends seemed concerned, others were disgusted and were filled with judgements.

It was a mess.

Later that evening, Josh called me.

"Finally! I wanted to call, but I didn't know if you would be busy." I sighed, relieved to hear from him. "I am sure you heard what happened. I don't even know what to say."

"Great. Let me help you. You got drunk-"

"Josh, I didn't drink. You know I can't handle drinking. I don't know how that happened."

"I wasn't done speaking," He said in a harsh tone.

I kept my mouth shut, because I had never heard him speak to me like that before.

"It was bad enough that you were drunk, you took off... took off y-your clothes- on air like some slut! - And you, you barfed..." He sounded disgusted.

I didn't know how bad it was until he spelt it out like that.

"You're trash, Susan." His words cut through me more than any blade would have, "I can't believe I almost married you! F*ck!"

My eyes stung and bile rose to my throat. I didn't stop the fat tears that rolled down my cheeks. His words were harsher than all the words I had heard that day.

"Baby, I-"

"Save it! You don't get to call me that! You've ruined everything!"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." I said, "I didn't mean to..." My throat closed as I tried to defend myself. I was sobbing heavily by then.

"You're disgusting. A disgrace! You should be grateful that I settled for your sorry self. Yet, you humiliated me by showing your boobs to the world." He let out a strained breath, "I've been getting messages all day from people, all because I chose you!" His tone was filled with disdain.

"We're done! Got that? Done!"

The line went dead, and so did my heart. It felt like it had been crushed to a million pieces. I stared at my reflection on the darkened screen for a long time, wondering how everything had flipped in just one day.

SUSAN'S POV

(Present day)

I jumped slightly in anticipation and fear as my phone began to buzz. I picked it up, and as soon as I saw the caller ID, I dropped it again as though it burned.

My heart was beating a mile a minute. I wiped off perspiration from my brow and noticed that my hands were trembling.

The loan sharks saved as 'Do Not Pick' on my phone, were calling.

There was no way I was going to cough up eighty grand to pay them, and my skin crawled thinking about what they would do to me. I didn't need to think for long, because they began blasting my phone with texts explaining exactly what.

'ARE YOU F**CKING KIDDING ME? You slut! Are you ignoring your calls? Pay the money you owe today, or else YOU'RE DEAD!'

My heart dropped to my stomach. I began to feel queasy.

I was in deep shit, and I knew it.

I had no doubt that they meant it. I had heard stories of what loan sharks did to people, and I knew I would be dead meat.

My breath caught in my throat as I read the next text, 'Tick-tock, Tick-tock..."

I stared at the phone, as though it would explode if I touched it.

I needed to somehow raise eighty grand before evening.

I had promised my landlord that I would have the rent by the end of the day. It was a lie to get him off my back, but I didn't know how long before he finally kicked me out.

Think Susan! Think Susan!

It would have been easier if I still had my friends and connections as before, but after what happened, they wanted nothing to do with me.

My gaze darted to the 'OVERDUE' red stamp on the envelopes before me. I couldn't afford to be proud at that moment. I needed help.

It was the weekend, and I knew where my former colleagues would be on a Friday night. I just needed to meet with them before the loan sharks met me. They wouldn't just ignore me if I told them that my rent was due and I had nowhere to stay.

I quickly put on some clothes and grabbed my club permit- It was an exclusive club for celebrities and I still had my VIP permit from when I worked at Sky Networks. Though I had never used it as much in the past, it was to expire in two weeks.

This was my chance to meet with them. I had stayed in isolation for so long all this time, because I didn't like being recognized as the meme every time I stepped out of the house. I didn't expect that I would be ostracized by everyone, including my friend Vanessa- none of them reached out to check on me once in all this time. But I didn't hold it against them, I was ready to find a solution.

I had to sell my car, when my savings ran out, so, I had to rely on cab service. It was right on time. Thankfully, he was a man from the Middle East, who didn't seem to care about technology and may not have seen the meme.

"Where are you headed, ma'am?" He asked me, watching me through his rearview mirror.

"Barnes club."

He nodded, and drove off.

It was a quiet ride and the roads were not as jammed. We arrived at the club in record time. I was sure they would be there on time as it was seven thirty pm.

I paid and got out of the cab and headed to the entrance of the nightclub. Weekends meant free entrance for girls, so I had no hassle getting past the front door.

The lights were blinding, and the sounds were too loud. The setting seemed very glamorous and vibrant. I couldn't remember the last time I had been to a nightclub. Sweaty guys were rocking and dancing with girls dressed in sleeveless short body-con dresses. The waitresses were in uniform- stylish bras, form fitting bumshorts, high heels and matching smiles. They carried their trays, containing cocktails and snacks, confidently to the guests.

I moved past the throng and made my way upstairs, where the VIP session was reserved, of which I used to be a member.

But what I feared began to happen.

"Hey! Aren't you that sexy reporter?"

"Come on, why don't you hang out with me tonight?"

I pushed past horny guys, leering at me with a feeling of trepidation and disgust.

One guy grabbed me by the waist, and I gasped, "Get off me!"

"Chill! What's there to be embarrassed about? Isn't this what you like?" He licked his lips in what he expected to come out as sexual, but in my eyes looked like a dog licking his nose.

I scrambled off him, successfully, but with a lack of grace. I had pushed so hard that I almost fell on my face.

The guys who watched, laughed and mocked me.

"She's trying to act like a saint, when she's a slut."

I felt so humiliated.

I didn't deserve the mistreatment from these guys who knew nothing about me.

I ignored them and made my way to the exclusive session.

"Excuse me, ma'am. VIP's only." The bouncer at the door said, stopping me.

"Oh yes! I have an entry card."

The bouncer looked at me from head to toe, not believing me. I should have expected that. I looked nothing like someone who was meant to be in the VIP session.

He took the card from me and recognizing the name, his eyes widened.

"Susan Carter," his eyes shone with amusement as he stared at my chest without trying to hide it. "I remember you."

I became self conscious, blushing deep red as I adjusted my top, so nothing would be revealed.

"You can go in." He said handing me back my pass and opening the door for me.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks."

My eyes scanned the room, and soon I saw my former colleagues. I took a deep breath, not knowing what to expect. I could be rejected, but I couldn't turn back now. I had already come this far.

Vanessa was the first among the six to spot. I couldn't see the rest from where I was, but I saw her say something to the others and they all looked in my direction.

The sight of Josh, made my heart race and caused blood to drum in my ears. I hadn't seen him again since our last phone call.

"Now, look who we have here..." He said looking at me with a smirk. "If it isn't the 'stripping anchor' or is it the 'barfing anchor'?" He asked the others and they snickered.

I hadn't expected to see him here. It was unlike him to be among others he considered beneath him.

Seeing him made my composure falter a bit, "H-hey, Josh." I stuttered, "It's really nice to see you."

"I wish I could say the same about you." His eyes shone with malice.

I couldn't forget how hurt I had felt when he had spoken about me live on air, saying that I was a slut and he had been deceived into proposing. It was much worse than him breaking off our engagement.

"Hi Vanessa," I turned to the one I had once called my best friend.

She rolled her eyes at me and turned away, sipping her drink slowly.

I said hello to the rest of them, but they were all so cold to me.

I didn't know how to state my purpose for being there anymore, even though I had anticipated the treatment, this was way worse than I imagined.

They ignored me and went back to talking about work and other stuff.

I cleared my throat and they cast annoyed glances at me. "Vanessa, can I speak to you privately?"

"Why?" It was her first word to me.

"Just because." I replied.

"If you have something to say, say it here." She replied coldly.

"Okay, fine." I puffed out a breath, "I need your help. I am about to lose my home, and I need some cash."

"Really?" She jeered, her mouth cracking into a barely restrained smile.

The others broke out into laughter.

I closed my eyes to minimize the feeling of embarrassment, but it only seemed to make it worse. I clutched my purse tightly, my hands trembling slightly.

"Honey, no one here is going to help you, least of all, my Vanessa." Josh said when his laughter had reduced to snickers.

"Excuse me?"

I may be wrong, but did I just hear, 'my Vanessa'?

I looked at Vanessa, and she was smiling conspiratorially at Josh.

"You are just about to witness a very memorable moment." He said, turning his smile to me, "I'm sorry, Susan. I don't intend to change my plans so I don't hurt your feelings."

He stood up and pushed past me, got on one knee and my mouth dropped open.

Did I just stumble on my ex-fiance proposing to my best friend?

I didn't hear the words being exchanged, or notice when he pulled out the ring, or when she shouted 'yes' or when he put the ring on her finger or when the guests cheered and clapped.

Then when he pulled her up and kissed her in front of me, I knew I had to go.

But fate had other plans for me (-cruel plans, I must add). Just when I thought that this day couldn't get any worse.

My whole life flashed before my eyes as I looked at the door, which was the only way out, and saw the loan sharks. I knew instantly that they were here for me.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

They had spotted me, and were making their way to me.

It was an enclosed space, I couldn't run.

"Hey! Slut! You got our money?"

I shook my head as the tears I had dared not to fall, began to streak my face.

"Please-"

Some of the other guests began to look scared. The guys looked like gangsters, and they were here to harm me.

I didn't look at the table, knowing that my colleagues were also watching.

"I just need some more time. I promise, I'll pay you-"

I heard Josh scoff, "So, you owe these guys too...? Why are you so pathetic?" He sighed and said, "Thank you for making this day truly memorable."

They all stood up and pushed past me, leaving me to myself.

When Josh got to the leader of the gang after me, he said, "You can do whatever you like with her. She's all yours. If she can't pay what she owes, she can make a good whore," he turned to me with his lips pulled back in a grimace, "After all, that's what she's known for." He walked away.

Asshole! I couldn't believe I ever fell for him.

The leader had a liquid smile on his face that spoke volumes. "Come here, sweetheart."

He said approaching me with his gang.

He got to me and grabbed my arm.

"Don't be shy. I have a way you can pay me back."

I let the tears fall freely.

If there was anyone, somewhere, anywhere that could help me...

"Let her go." A deep sultry voice from behind me said.

He held on to the hand that grabbed me and freed me. He stood between me and the leader. "Don't you dare lay a finger on her. I'll pay whatever it is she owes."

MIKE'S POV

I needed a drink.

It was the only way I could stop myself from overthinking. The investors were pissed and had unanimously decided to give me an ultimatum. They were all angry with my decision to launch an IPO for my fairly new entertainment brand- Hylix Agency.

It was bad enough that a tech billionaire with one of the fastest growing companies in New York started an entertainment label- but going public was a whole new ball game.

I arrived at Barnes Club in my signature black hoodie and face cap, as I tried my best to blend into the crowd like any regular guy. I usually come to the club as a weekend ritual, but mostly to drink and clear my mind. It was also another way to stay in anonymity in public for a few hours. The Barnes had a very secure VIP area with an access card.

As soon as I got to the club, I made my way to the VIP area and flashed my elite black card at the bouncer at the door; he was already familiar with me, so he nodded and let me in without a word.

I'm Michael H. Lane, CEO of TechGeek.inc, a tech company that majors mostly on building AI systems. I was used to being posted about on blogs, socials and in elite circles. Some even saw me as a celebrity, because I had model-like features. In the past year, I had built a new startup under the TechGeek brand- Hylix agency- which was a far cry from what I was used to. It is an entertainment label for artists, dancers, etc to get signed and fulfill their dreams. I always had that passion, but my decision was met with serious backlash. I still remember a headline that said, "From Code to Choreography: What Does a 'Tech Geek' Know About Entertainment?" and other versions of it like "When a 'Tech Geek' Try to Drop Beats: Michael H. Lane Trades AI for A&R."

I found the headlines amusing, even though it still felt like a punch in the gut. I had anticipated the bad reception, but I didn't expect it to affect the company.

I settled into my usual corner booth in the VIP lounge, far away from the other groups I saw in the VIP area. I appeared to be the only one who wasn't with the company, and it was fine by me. I needed to be in my own thoughts after all. I needed a plan. The bartender didn't wait for me to order, as he pushed a glass of gin and lemon.

As the music played in the background, my mind wasn't in the club. I was scrolling through the disheartening messages on my phone.

The legal team may have work on their hands, because the shareholders are threatening to pull out their investments if I decided to pull through with the IPO.

Investors were concerned about their investments, and media houses were making it worse with their predictions of my downfall.

I read a comment under one of the articles which said, "Maybe he should've just built another app."

The idea was to model the agency like the K-pop industry-training raw talent into global stars. Despite zero experience in the field, I believed in my vision. I still do. But after one year the label hadn't made enough public noise. Belief alone wasn't buying the investors confidence.

The media thought that I had probably lost it. Investors wanted out. I could face possible lawsuits if they withdraw and I couldn't afford to repay share agreements.

As I took a sip from my drink, I began to hear voices in the VIP section. It sounded like a heated exchange and then laughter.

I instinctively turned to look. It was quite unusual, because club security didn't usually let drama unfold upstairs. It was a table close to the entrance. I had passed them when coming in, but I didn't pay them much mind.

That's when I saw her- a smallish woman standing, while the rest of them sat, making jest of her. Her face was partially hidden by hair, but her voice...

Something seemed familiar about it.

She looked at the table with wide eyes of desperation. I leaned forward as I pondered on why this lady seemed familiar.

I seemed to recognize some other faces on the table, and then it clicked.

"Susan Carter?"

Her name rolled off my tongue in disbelief. I hadn't seen her in person before, but I knew I would recognize that voice anywhere. I used to watch her every day during the noon broadcast. There was just something endearing about how she did her work that made you want to listen to her speak, even if she was talking about the weather.

She was brilliant, composed, classy and bold. Well... until that day.

I remembered the infamous broadcast- her slurred speech, stripping, the vomit. It went viral for weeks. I remember feeling disappointed... but I didn't mock her like the rest. I have had my own fair share of public disgrace- even though it wasn't as bad as hers. I just felt... sad. She had something.

But now, seeing her like this- broken, desperate, and asking her former colleagues for help- it did something to me.

I turned back to my drink and back to my woes.

Another disruption caught my attention again. This time, the colleagues left her behind as some guys cornered her and advanced her like animals hunting for their prey.

The men taunting her weren't just drunk idiots. They seemed dangerous.

The bouncer approached them, and one of the other goons tried to stop him.

I started fighting my inner demons.

I had no reason to intervene. I certainly would not fight a random stranger in a club.

I sighed as my phone beeped with a message from Bruno, my assistant.

"What do you plan to do now? We need to gain the press. We don't have the much needed attention an IPO launch is supposed to have. Else, these investors might pull out." The text said.

Followed by an exaggerated meme of Susan turning green, just before she puked.

The meme that had trended after her scandalous broadcast.

Hold on...

I turned back to the smallish lady... and heard the men demanding their money from her.

She's media trained.

She knows how to handle press.

She can draw attention to my IPO, due to her past.

My brain began to run a mile per second.

The IPO could use a face. We could call it a bold, unapologetic comeback story.

Even though it's not the right image, she has the kind of popularity that I need.

But it made no sense really.

It was crazy, and reckless.

I could get in even bigger shit.

I was known for my ridiculous ideas, but I felt I may be criticized even more if I hired her as my Media Publicist.

Could she really become the mouthpiece of my label?

But maybe... just maybe this was the move I needed.

I hated the thought of "using" her, especially when she's at her lowest.

But this could be a win-win. She needed a job, a chance to start over. I needed a miracle.

I turned to her again, and just then the leader of the guys grabbed her by the arm.

Something tightened in my chest.

No way in hell!

I didn't need to think anymore. I got up, crossed the room with purposeful strides.

"Let her go!" I said in a low threatening voice.

I pulled his hand from her arm and freed her. I stood between her and the person. He appeared to be the leader.

I could feel Susan trembling behind me.

The leader scoffed at me, but I refused to be intimidated. I was told I looked intimidating many at times and I sure hoped it worked right now.

"Don't you dare lay a finger on her. I'll pay whatever it is she owes."

I turned to her for the first time and noticed her rubbing her wrist where the asshole had grabbed her.

"You okay?" I asked softly.

She blinked rapidly, her long lashes nearly meeting her cheeks.

"Huh?" She said, looking confused.

Her stunned eyes, shiny with tears, met mine then and I felt my heart flutter. I had always known she was beautiful on TV, but seeing her up close, I couldn't help but admire her features better. Her hazel eyes reminded me of a kitten I had once seen that melted my heart, and her long brown hair reminded me of Sofia Vergara- the actress.

"Are you okay?" I repeated.

Then she nodded slowly.

I turned back to the guys.

I was not sure what I was doing yet. But I had a strong feeling that this night just changed everything.