Hola! Chapter 2. Hope you all enjoy a scandal!
Thankfully the party didn't last much longer, though Ella stayed longer than anyone, Bruce was crawling into bed at two AM, relishing that for once Bruce Wayne was more help to Gotham than Batman.
Alfred woke him at ten for the noon meeting at Wayne Enterprises. After dressing Bruce went into the kitchen where Alfred had laid out breakfast and was reading the newspaper, the TV turned on low. Bruce sat down to eat and asked Alfred.
"What are they saying about the hospital?"
"Couldn't tell you sir, I was reading the funnies." He paused for comedic effect before going on. "There's supposed to be news coverage on in a few minutes; but overall it looks very good." They went on to talk about stock until the news came on and started it's coverage of the press conference the night before.
Alfred turned the TV up and, for Bruce, it was slightly surreal watching himself in the other room. The reports about the hospital were good, hopes flying high, and when the generic anchors closed the story Bruce was just about to turn off the television when the story changed. A new perkier anchor with better hair, the one who reported on scandal and gossip, filled the screen as she started off her spiel.
"Press conferences weren't the only thing going on last night in Bruce Wayne's penthouse." A picture of Bruce buttoning his suit coat, closing the bedroom door, dominated the screen and on the extreme edge was Ms. Daines walking down the hallway.
"Mr. Bruce Wayne was seen," she cleared her throat, "entertaining Ms. Laura Daines, the head of funds for the Harvey Dent Memorial Hospital Committee, during the latter part of the evening and we are left to wonder if she wasn't making a few," the anchor made finger quotations, "social connections of her own."
Bruce laughed out loud. Wow, those reporters were better than Bruce gave them credit for they must have been waiting by that door for such a perfect shot.
"While Laura isn't Bruce's usual type we all know that Mr. Wayne does enjoy bringing his work home with him." She referenced a scandal from a few months ago and continued.
"My own unintended scandal," Bruce said to Alfred.
"The one time I don't bother to check the society page you managed to get top story," Alfred said, flipping through the paper.
Two pictures were put on the screen: one of Ms. Daines entering the event in her white dress, the second of her leaving in the black one. The words before and after were put over the pictures in big blocky letters. "True love at last for our play boy millionaire or yet another scandal, this time with his philanthropic work? We at GL News went straight to the source to find out." Footage of Ms. Daines standing by a car earlier in the morning came onto the screen. A reporter's voice sounded out and his disembodied hand floated in the shot.
"Is it true you're sleeping with Bruce Wayne for the benefit of the hospital funds?" Laura didn't appear the least bit bothered by the insinuation.
"I can only ask the question: is there any part of my past, any scandal, which gives credence to these accusations?"
"We don't see you denying them," the reporter bit back.
She opened the car door. "Then read my lips: I would never endanger the plans for the hospital, or my job, for a one night fling with a millionaire." She had apparently ignored the other questions because they cut away back to the reporter.
"Well Laura, Bruce certainly has enough indiscretions for the both of you and we, of the public, are only left to wonder if Harvey Dent Memorial Hospital will be built upon the same corrupted business deals that our beloved Harvey Dent fought so hard against." She finished with her "you be the judge" catchphrase and Alfred muted the TV.
"Why is it that when we want them to cover something it gets pushed to page 12, and when we don't, it makes Society news front page?" Alfred muttered into his hand.
Bruce shrugged. "Irony? What's the difference? Maybe we'll have to stop trying so hard."
"I don't think you realize Mr. Wayne that they could throw you off the hospital committee with accusations like these." That took Bruce a bit by surprise; but he tried to roll with the punches.
"I don't think they'll mind taking my dirty money, no matter how they think they're getting it."
"And Ms. Daines?" That brought Bruce up short.
"What about her?"
"They could sack her. You have other things to look after; but for her career this could be devastating." Bruce looked over at Alfred.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked.
"You could deny the accusations," he said, fixing Bruce with the same look he did when Bruce refused to eat his vegetables as a child.
"A press conference? You want me to hold a press conference?" Bruce asked in disbelief. The two of them always agreed that press was best left to the public for interpretation. It was always so much more mysterious when no one involved commented on the latest scandal.
"No sir; but if a tipster were to tell them that Bruce Wayne had a business dinner at Bridges around six thirty and they happened to be there with cameras. Then it might at least give Ms. Daines a better chance."
"You're serious," Bruce said disbelievingly.
"When I have to be." Bruce drank the last of his coffee.
"Do whatever you think is best Alfred."
"I try to sir."
Bruce got a few more looks than usual; but no one dared to vocalize their snide comments to the wealthiest man in Gotham. There were business meetings, stocks, lawyers, lunch with Lucius, and Bruce couldn't help the question returning to his mind during every break about what he was going to say to the reporters that would surely be waiting for him at his business dinner.
He decided to keep it short and sweet. If he told them the whole story about an obnoxious date who spilled champagne on her and made him bleed it would sound as if he was trying to beg their pardon, not to mention sound unbelievably made up. His response would have to answer the question and show a little disdain so the press would feel stupid for asking.
After business was done Bruce dodged a phone call from Ella Fitzgerald. Undoubtedly she had another, better, perfectly excusable reason for calling; but Bruce knew she just wanted to know if he had really slept with Ms. Daines. The only advantage of answering the press was that it circulated without any effort from him.
After an in-depth discussion about the possibility of hacking the low jack on police vehicles so Batman could give them a wide berth Bruce got into his little red sports car and headed to the restaurant. Bruce could see the mob of reporters half a block away. He pictured his father and let the calm flow into his limbs, pulling on the mask of the millionaire to hide the face of the Batman.
The door was opened for him and the calm was shattered as a tidal wave of "Mr. Wayne" hit the shore and broke upon his ears. He realized belatedly that he would have appreciated having some model or actress at his side. His millionaire persona was never quite fully realized without one.
"What is your relationship with Ms. Daines?"
"Is it true you're sleeping with the head of funds?"
"Why Laura Daines?"
Bruce handed a gratuitous tip to the valet who was excited enough just to sit in the driver's seat of the beautiful little sports car. Bruce addressed a female reporter with brown hair, walking towards the entrance as he spoke.
"What do you say to the pictures published by GL News and the Gotham Tribune?"
"Pictures can be tampered with," Bruce answered, walking down the carpet towards the doors. The press burst into a fresh fervor when they realized that not only was Bruce Wayne actually commenting on a scandal; but he actually had the nerve to deny it.
"How will this affect your position on the hospital committee?" a woman with a tape recorder danced next to him in impossible shoes, trying to keep pace.
"Luckily Mrs. Morrison usually avoids the society page."
"What is your relationship with Ms. Daines?"
"Purely professional."
"Mr. Wayne, so you are denying these allegations?" a reporter with a microphone asked in a commanding, disbelieving voice. Bruce reached the door and turned. Every reporter got quieted, trying to hear the answer to the question that everyone wanted to hear.
"You should read the paper more," Bruce said in a blasé, condescending voice. "Ms. Daines isn't exactly my type."
They exploded with more questions as the door swung shut behind Bruce. He was happy to leave them behind and lower his guard a little. As much as he hated the press and their questions he felt better, feeling he had done right by Ms. Daine's reputation. Alfred was practically his conscience, knew better than Bruce what was best for him.