He gave her a mocking smile. ‘You said that it brought out a rash and made your skin itch. To a journalist.’
‘I didn’t know he was a journalist. He bought me a drink. And another. And another. I thought he was being friendly.’
His mouth twisted. ‘My point precisely.’
Phoebe sighed and rubbed her neck. How lucky she’d had plenty of practice justifying what she did, the decisions she’d taken and the mistakes she’d made. Compared to the grilling her family gave her on a monthly basis, this was a walk in the park.
But then, her family didn’t hold her future in their hands.
Phoebe gathered her wits. She needed every drop of strength because right now she had to fight harder than she had in a long time.
‘Alex, I was twenty-one. It was right at the beginning of my career. In the second week of my first job. I was naïve. I learnt.’ She paused. ‘Besides, it did give me a rash and make my skin itch. As a result they went back and tweaked the formula.’
‘Nevertheless it was hardly a stellar moment.’
‘I’m well aware of that.’
‘And then what about the perfume?’ He paused. ‘Falsifying sales figures? I’d say that was verging on criminal.’
Phoebe stiffened. ‘It was nothing of the kind. It was simply a mistake. I was given the wrong data.’
‘And you didn’t think to check?’
‘I trusted my team.’
Alex grunted. ‘Now that was a mistake,’ he said more sharply than she would have thought the point warranted.
‘Evidently. But you needn’t worry. Now I check and double-check everything.’
Alex didn’t look as if that information alleviated his concerns in the slightest.
So two blips down, only one remained. Phoebe’s heart rate picked up. She’d spent so long in denial over this particular incident that she really didn’t want to have to rake through it all over again. But she doubted Alex would let it rest.
‘And the musician?’
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose and forced back the anguish that clenched her heart. ‘Dillon Black was an up and coming musician looking for representation.’ She shrugged as if the whole sorry affair had been a mere inconvenience instead of the heart-wrenching nightmare it had become. ‘I signed him up with the company I was working for at the time.’
‘I thought you specialised in fashion PR.’
Phoebe shifted on the chair and bit her lip. ‘I do. That was the trouble. When someone with more experience offered him a better deal he jumped ship faster than you can say “recording label.”’
‘So why did you sign him up?’
Phoebe closed her eyes briefly. ‘It was a blip. A one-off error of judgement.’
A tiny smile hovered over his mouth. ‘So it had nothing to do with the fact that you were living together at the time?’
Phoebe’s gaze jerked to his and her heart thundered. ‘How do you know that?’
‘My investigators are very thorough.’
‘This is outrageous.’
Alex shrugged. ‘Your lack of judgement seems to have been a recurrent theme in the course of your career.’
Phoebe gasped. How did he do that? He hit her where she was most vulnerable and then stuck the knife in, twisting it and slicing her heart open and releasing all the old aches and hurt.
‘I wanted to help him,’ she said, trying to keep a steady grip on her voice. ‘I trusted him. I never imagined he’d turn around and betray me.’