Chapter 26
DOWN BADDER AND BADDER
Rhys
We make it through Thursday, and then Friday morning, with much of the same as there was Wednesday.
With one notable exception.
Every last one of the GrippaPeen creators has been leaving massive tips for the housekeepers on a daily basis.
They clearly know they’re wreaking havoc, and they’re paying the staff well to compensate for their troubles.
“The money so totally makes up for having to see so many penises,” Zelda’s saying to Margie over lunch on Friday.
They’re at the table. I’m leaning against the counter, pretending I’m scrolling my phone while I eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which is honestly one of life’s underappreciated culinary delights.
“I’m still in shock that they’re this generous,” is Margot’s very measured answer.
Zelda’s face scrunches. “Hey, how bad are you hurting for money?”
Margot looks up from the sandwich I packed her this morning. “I always get by. Why?”
Zelda nods toward me. “I was just thinking we should share with all of the staff.”
Margot smiles. “I wasn’t going to suggest it in case you needed the money, but yes. I’m in. Here. Take mine and figure out the best way to split it all.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out several hundred-dollar bills, then a few more, and then a few more.
She reaches deeper into her pocket, and— “Oops. One more. I think that’s it now.”
Zelda looks at me again. “I don’t know what your situation is either, but those guys might have a point about you trying this for a few months.”
“I’m good,” I say.
Margot’s smile turns me inside out.
Every fucking time.
Something shifted in the garden shed, and if I thought I was down bad before, that’s nothing compared to now.
I open my eyes, I think about her.
I brush my teeth, I think about her.
I see a flower, I think of her.
I see the wind blow through the yellow aspens, I think about her.
A pinecone drops on my head, I think about her.
I eat a sandwich—you get the idea.
I’m obsessed.
And I don’t care.
I probably should—she’s telling the triplets tomorrow, and that’s when everything changes one way or another—but right now, I don’t give a shit if she hurts me.
My rose-colored glasses are firmly in place, and I’m convinced we’re going to have some kind of happily ever after no matter what.
“I’m almost going to miss them when they’re gone,” Zelda murmurs.
“Didn’t know we’d be getting paid for this much…entertainment,” Margot replies.
“I’m not quite ready to go back to boring.”
“We’ll always have the memories.”
The GrippaPeen conference technically ends this afternoon, with the creators mostly checking out tomorrow and no other guests arriving until Monday, so because Margot came in last Sunday, and since Louisa is back on the schedule with the nudity being over, Margot’s off the next three days.
Likely technically forever after her talk with the triplets.
Which I’m starting to hope she delays.
I like things the way they are now.
Work hard here during the day. Then when we get home, it’s dinner, sex, dessert, sex, sleep a little, sex, sleep a little more, sex, shower, sex, breakfast, sex, and then work again.
With talking in between too.
Though I might’ve missed some sex on that list.
Dammit.
I’m about to pop a boner again.
You’d think my dick would be exhausted, but no. He’s raring to go like he hibernated, and now it’s sex marathon time for as long as we can get it.
Cynthia sticks her head in and looks at all three of us. “Incident with a merlot, a white couch, and a taxidermy pig. Who wants to handle cleanup at the winery?”
Margot smiles at her. “I’ll get it.”
“Why do you keep volunteering for the worst jobs?” Zelda asks.
“Just in case they do something even worse next,” Margot replies with a cheeky grin.
“There’s nothing worse than red wine,” Cynthia says.
Margot shrugs. “I like putting things back the way they’re supposed to be.”
That’s what sticks in my head all afternoon.
Putting things back in place the way they’re supposed to be.
She can’t fix her family.
Can’t put Daphne back in the way it was before.
So she’s putting her father where he’s supposed to be.
Putting things as right as she can make them.
For me too.
Sometime this week when she wasn’t working and we weren’t having sex, she read through the court filings in the lawsuit war I had with Xavier those first few months after I departed Technique Group.
With my permission, she passed it on to her friend back in New York, who’s going to make sure people in New York start talking about it.
The whole thing flew under the radar. Xavier had blacklisted me so thoroughly that I didn’t have any local friends in the industry that I trusted to talk to about it, or to ask to talk to other people about it, and it wasn’t hard to see that if I’d started yelling about suing him, I’d look like the pathetic loser who couldn’t accept that I was bad at my job.
The accusations of financial mismanagement that I had based on what little evidence I could gather before going to court are still enough that he’ll take a reputation hit, which will help me look less like a fool grasping for straws too.
But the idea of vengeance isn’t what’s making me happy.
That’s all Margot.
I find her with Zelda near what’s supposed to be the end of her shift.
They’re huddled in the doorway to the dining room, which has been cleared of all tables again, with chairs set up for the sixty or seventy creators who’ve been here this week.
A familiar face is at the front of the room, on a makeshift stage, microphone in hand, about to start speaking.
“Oh, good, I’m not too late,” a feminine voice murmurs beside us.
I glance down and spot Laney Monroe.
She’s beaming at Theo on the stage.
He pulls a face at her, then smiles softly, and then he lifts his microphone. “Afternoon, naked people.”
Cheers and shouts erupt in the room. Someone yells take it off. Someone else throws a ball of red yarn at the stage.
“Is this awkward?” Margot murmurs to Laney.
Laney shakes her head, still smiling. “We all have our stories about how we got to where we are. This is his.”
“Settle down, settle down,” Theo says. “I’m only here for five minutes, so if you want to hear what I have to say, you have to listen now.”
The room falls into immediate silence.
Clearly, they believe him.
“Wish that worked on toddlers,” Laney says.
Margot—shit, Margie—smiles and doesn’t answer.
Theo glances back at Laney again.
She nods to him.
I slip behind Margie and settle a hand on her waist.
She leans back into me.
And Theo starts talking again. “When I started my channel, I was talking to myself,” he says.
“Telling myself the things I needed to hear. Teaching me to believe in myself, that I was good enough, that I deserved room and space to grow and learn. I did it naked because emotions are—they’re hard, my dudes.
Being emotionally exposed is harder than being buck naked in a crowded room.
And I’d know. That’s how I got my first detention. ”
Snickers go up around the room, and Laney laughs too. “I remember that.”
“Thing is, anyone can get naked,” Theo continues.
“I hear you’ve all been naked half the week here.
But the thing that’ll bring you success—and I don’t mean on a subscription channel, I mean in life—is embracing who you are and what makes you unique.
Not if your dick’s tattooed or has a weird curve.
But the part of this that’s unique.” He taps his heart.
Margie glances at Laney, smiling softly at the woman who’s beaming at her husband on stage.
I want that.
I want a life with someone who’ll watch me do what I’m best at and beam with pride over it.
Someone who’s as much my partner as I want to be hers.
That was lacking with Felice.
I was behind her one hundred percent. But I don’t think she was behind me.
Ever.
“Success is half luck,” Theo says. “I wasn’t the first dude to try naked knitting for subscribers.
Wasn’t the first dude to give life advice and tell my people they were all good enough exactly as they are.
But I was the first dude who got popular for doing it.
Still don’t know why it was me, but it was.
And so that’s why I’m here. To talk about how I’m better than all of you. ”
The crowd roars with laughter as Theo cracks a grin.
“So Theo,” Laney murmurs with a smile.
“Kidding, kidding,” he says. “Only way I’m better is that I found the best wife in the world and she gave me two babies who are just like her. Sorry to disappoint if any of you were hoping to get someone better.”
“Dammit, Theo.” Now Laney’s swiping her eyes.
Margie leans back into me.
I press a kiss into her hair.
Laney’s great.
But she’s no Margie-Margs-Skillet-Margot.
“I can’t tell you how to make your channels more popular,” Theo says.
He shrugs at someone I recognize as an executive from the GrippaPeen website.
“It’s the truth, dude. I can’t tell you what content style will take off next.
But I can tell you it doesn’t mean shit if the rest of your life isn’t full.
Laney makes my life full. And not just because she accepts me for who I am, but because she supports me when I say crazy shit like I want to buy that ski resort with our friends and give creative people a place to get away and focus on art. ”
He grins back at Laney over the crowd. “Yeah, I know, princess. It’s not crazy to give back to the world. Not crazy to support a community. Not crazy to do good things with the gifts we’ve been given.”
He sweeps his gaze over the room. “And that is what I want you to take away from my five minutes here. No one—none of us—succeeds all on our own. We’re part of something bigger than ourselves, no matter how we express our art.
And we owe it to the world to give back what it’s given us.
Without that, it doesn’t mean shit. I’m outta here, motherfuckers. ”
He steps back, sneezes so loud several people jump, takes a bow, and then ducks out a side door.
The room bursts into a standing ovation.
“What just happened?” I murmur to Margie.
“Apparently Theo Monroe?” she replies.
Laney’s laughing, still wiping her eyes. “That is absolutely what happens when Theo’s around. Are you off soon? We’re having an after-party to celebrate him being brave enough to talk to a room full of people. The triplets are coming. Some other family too.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t want—” Margie starts, but Laney makes a face, cutting her off.
“You’re not intruding. You’re invited and welcome.” She winks at me. “Unless you have something better to do?”
I shouldn’t be getting hot in the cheeks.
But I am.
Margie looks up at me.
I look down at her.
“It’s an old-people party,” Laney adds. “You’ll be home before nine because we pass out about as soon as we get the kids in bed.”
“We’ll consult our calendar,” I say.
“You two are adorable,” Laney murmurs. She glances at her phone, then smiles at us again. “Gotta go play bodyguard for my husband and get him out of here before his fans find him.”
I let Margie go. “I’ll help.”
Laney sighs. “I’d say I can handle this myself, but…”
“I’ve been here all week. No need to explain.”
Margie smiles at me. “See you at the truck after we get this cleaned up.”
That—that’s what has me smiling too.
I don’t want to go to a party.
I want to go back to the cabin with Margot and enjoy the fuck out of the time we have left here before any potential shit starts hitting the fan.
Who knows?
Maybe there won’t be any shit at all.
The triplets are friends with rich and famous people already. Margot has lawyers at the ready to defend against anything her father might try if he finds out about the triplets. And I’ll vouch for her character.
Maybe we’ve been worried for nothing.
Maybe they’ll understand.
And maybe life will stay rosy.
I can hope, anyway.