“Got you, Dad,” Sully replied, leaving.
“Gage, stick with Sash. Not close, but close enough she knows you’re there if she needs you.”
“On my way, Pops,” Gage said and took off.
“Thank you for understanding,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“You’re right, sometimes this Imogen Swan shit is a pain in the ass.”
That made me smile, though it was trembling too.
He pulled me up as he came down, and he kissed me quickly.
When he pushed me back, he didn’t let go.
But he did say, “We’ll get through this. All of us. Now go take care of our families.”
That made me get it together.
And I nodded one last time.
He gave my jaw a squeeze.
And I left the room to get on taking care of our families.
“Then she was all, ‘well, you’ve got five minutes to become one with it, Tom, because it’s happening.’” Sasha relayed for the third time.
This time to Harvey and Beth, who were both over to provide moral support.
And yes, Beth brought her air fryer, because, from Harvey: “She’s gonna take that goddamn thing on vacation with us.” Which brought: “Yes, Harv, because we’re camping in our RV and I have a kitchen, as such, and I also have a need to cook good food in a short time so I can enjoy my vacation.”
This was after Heddy showed.
I was currently on gimlet three, which Gage was feeding me, and at that moment I sure was glad I had the foresight to stock the ingredients for my gimlets when I went to the store the day before to get the stuff for my red sauce and meatballs.
Much earlier, Sienna Sinclair had left a message on my cell saying, “We’ll be sorry to see you go, but we’re sorrier about today’s interview and will understand if that’s your decision. I say this because we’ve had both phone and in person requests from journalists. We’ve shared that our policy is that we do not release information about any of our guests, but at no time have we had an Imogen Swan registered with us. And rest assured, all my staff are very aware that this is our policy. Please take care of yourself and thank you for staying at The Queen. It was a pleasure for us to have you.”
And what she said wasn’t entirely a lie, since I was registered there under Virginie Forbes.
Talk about a dame.
A classy one.
This meant Sasha and the boys had taken a brief trip to The Queen to pack me (and Cookie) up and move us to Duncan’s.
And now was now, early afternoon, and Sasha, the boys, Heddy and Beth were in fits of glee watching the fallout of Mindi’s strongly worded counter that Samantha Wheeler told grave falsehoods about Tom Pierce.
And yes, after warning Hale I was going to do it, and getting his approval, I threw that bitch right under the bus when she tried to do the same to the father of my children (this, after soothing his fury that his mother made passes at my husband and the dad of the only real family Hale had ever known).
Thus, I shared her interview was due to the fact she had frequently made advances to Tom Pierce, which were always rebuffed, we were taking her interview as an act of petty vengeance against Tom, and we could not stand silent about it considering what it meant to our family.
Duncan and I, Mindi and Sheila, on a conference call, decided the rest.
That the things Samantha said about he, Corey and I were “private matters and personal history that will not be discussed.”
This, we knew, translated into “she did not lie about that.”
But we didn’t make that statement to protect Corey. We did it for the exact opposite reason.
The fallout of all of this was seeming to be that the world was Team Duncan all the way and Team Tom, since everybody loved him and wanted him happy. So now, if he was brought up, it was discussing potential women he should date.
So I guessed I had something to thank Sam for.
But I was not going to rush to my personalized stationery.
The feeds were clogged with a variety of unkind memes featuring Sam and even Elsa, taking stills from the interview or other photos to make fun of them.
I could not say this made me happy.
I could say that it I didn’t care much that it probably would not take me long to get over it.
I was cuddled up with Duncan (and Killer) in his big chair, steadily becoming more and more inebriated.
But as yet this had not touched the fact that I was infuriated that a happy day that started with Duncan fucking me and should have carried on with us spending time with our kids, ended like this.
Even if Sasha was having the time of her life repeating the conversation I’d had with Tom in the hallway.