Private Relations by J.M. Hall Page A

that Bobby and I knew one another.
    “Principal White did,” Bobby replied. “Prior to his official retirement.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    Kurt didn’t know what to make of the little exchanged, nor did he seem all that concerned. He took notes on his Macbook Pro, peppering the conversation with the occasional question before his fingers flew across the keyboard once more. I’d seen him work plenty of times before, and it never ceased to pique my interest.
    Here he was, one of Manhattan’s most successful crisis communications professionals, with his own namesake agency that was enjoying double-digit growth each quarter. There certainly hadn’t been any shortage of crises in recent years, either. CEOs caught banging their secretaries? Check. A high-powered surgeon found to have been under the influence while operating? Check.
    Hell, we even helped a doctor hold onto his lucrative media empire after he wa caught snorting cocaine on a boat in St. Tropez.
    Victory & Associates specialized in crises, but that didn’t mean I wanted to have my past invade my present, either.
    “Mr. Allen,” Kurt began, “I won’t lie to you. Any alleged sexual activity between an adult and a minor will lead to a lot of unflattering media coverage. And, I’m sorry to say, I don’t believe you’ve handled the situation as well as you could have at this point.”
    Bobby looked surprised, though not completely offended. He nodded, invited Kurt to continue. Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but then turned to me. I could take it from here, he said. After all, crisis communications was a specialty of mine.
    “Is it?” Bobby asked.
    I ignored his question and went right into the details. “Your first mistake was failing to notify your internal stakeholders -- students, faculty, parents -- about the allegations. By failing to do, you let gossip permeate the campus. That creates feelings of mistrust, even resentment. You are the leader of New Hope Academy. The news should have come from you.”
    “I understand that,” Bobby said, “but my hands were tied. At that point, all of this was rumors and gossip. We couldn’t risk firing Simone without due process, because if it turned out the rumors were false…”
    “Simone could have sued you for wrongful termination,” I said, completing his thought. “Still, you could have said something. You could have left it that she was placed on administrative leave after allegations of misconduct were brought to your attention. That is what happened, correct?”
    “Yes, after we felt we had sufficient evidence, she was placed on administrative leave to enable us to conduct an internal investigation into the matter.”
    “Do you know for sure what happened between Simone and the student in question?”
    “Not yet,” Bobby said, his tone dripping with defeat. “However, the media is treating these rumors as truth.”
    What happened next took me by surprise. As the so-called scandal unfolded, Bobby had been contacted by several crisis communications firms in Philadelphia, all of whom were ready and eager to take his case. New Hope Academy had an eight-figure endowment, which certainly led these firms to believe they would have plenty of money to afford a crisis retainer for three to six months, if need be. Instead, he’d gone through the alumni records and saw that in the years following my graduating NYU, I’d carved out a career for myself in ad agencies and public relations firms.
    “I always knew you’d make something out of yourself,” he said. “Ever since you walked in to my sophomore English class, I knew you were destined for great things.”
    “Wait a minute,” Kurt said, eyes peeled off his computer screen. “You taught Jesse in high school?”
    “I’m a graduate of New Hope Academy,” I said. “Didn’t Bobby tell you?”
    “No, he didn’t,” Kurt said, turning to Bobby. “Why didn’t you say so?”
    “I wasn’t sure he’d remember me,” Bobby said. “It’s been