Page 23 of Spin Control

“She can kill the story.”

“Stas, what’s going on? Why do I need to do this?”

“Because it is the safest way,” he says. “Please, Wes. Convince her to talk to the journalist. She’ll know who it is.”

I exhale heavily, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t like this.”

“I wouldn’t ask if there was a better way,” Stas says. “I swear.”

I wonder if that’s true—if I can trust Stas. For all I know, he’s playing me. After all, I had no idea he was wrapped up with fucking criminals, and we’ve been friends for more than a decade. Hell, I don’t even know if I can trust myself.

“Wes. Please,” Stas says, his voice a plea now. I’ve never heard him sound like that before.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yes. I’m trying to make sure it stays that way.”

My mind races as I try to make sense of everything. I don’t want to be involved in this. But I also don’t want to be responsible for something going wrong. I don’t want Stas in trouble because I refused to have a conversation with someone. “Look. I’m not promising anything. But I’ll talk to her.”

“I understand,” Stas says. “Thank you.”

“But this is it, Stas,” I say. “I’m not…I can’t be…”

“I know, Wes.”

I blow out a heavy breath. “Okay.”

“I will go now,” Stas says. “Good luck this weekend.”

“Thanks,” I say, laughing at the change in topic. “Will you be watching?”

“Of course,” he says, sounding offended I even asked. “Give them hell, Wes.”

“You too, Stas.”

He lets out a dark chuckle. “I’m trying. I will talk to you…I don’t know when.”

My heart lurches. I hadn’t considered that this might be the last time I ever talk to Stas Dubinsky.

“Take care of yourself,” I say. “We need you back on the grid. I can’t deal with Freddie much longer.”

He laughs—a real one this time. “I will do my best. Bye, Wes.”

“Bye, Stas. Good luck.”

With that, I end what might be my very last conversation with my very complicated, probably criminal best friend.

11

One of the first lessons I learned about crisis communications is that when you cannot control the narrative, you change it.

It’s not an earth-shattering concept. Teenage girls do it all the time. But doing it well on a scale grander than what is required in high school hallways is the real challenge.

So when the president of the United States walks into Martine Racing’s charity gala dinner alongside the British ambassador, even I am surprised that we’ve pulled this off. I look across the table from where I’m seated beside Arjun Chaudhry, a respected business journalist the team is hosting this weekend, and directly at David.

When an acquaintance who works for the White House press secretary let me know the president would be golfing in Florida this weekend, I swallowed down my personal hatred for the man and asked David to do one thing: convince Marcus Martine to personally invite the British ambassador to the race. I had a feeling that if she were in Florida at the same time as the president and had an invitation to a ritzy event filled with a veritable who’s-who of business tycoons and billionaires, she would likely invite him along.

Because whether I like it or not, having the president walk into your event is a hell of a way to change the news cycle.