chapter thirty-seven
Wren
“You were this hot the whole time?” Gemma’s voice is loud in the silent room we enter.
Nobody is moving as they all stare at both Blue Jay and Hawk, now unmasked as Colton and John. I can’t help but snort a laugh.
“You were right, Gemma,” Colton grins.
“Do you want a modeling job?” she asks and waves over her agent.
“No, he works for me,” I say and cross my arms.
Bradley House clears his throat. I didn’t even know he was here. I glare at him in a challenge to take ownership of Colton. He doesn’t say another word.
“Everyone, I know you’ve all been working very hard on managing this crisis and I am so very thankful for each of you,” Dad says, bringing order back to the room. “Wren and I have come to the agreement, with the help of our personal security, to unmask our staff. We feel that if we are to be liked and respected, we need to be more transparent. Wren has been hidden away for so many years, and I imagine it’s going to take a strong effort to make it known this wasn’t something done in shame or for any other nefarious reason. To do that, she said we need to be less creepy. And less creepy we will be.”
The room is silent again, save for the squeak of someone erasing a white board.
“Well then. Let’s get started!” A woman with a severe blonde bob says. She shuffles some paperwork onto the table and waves us over. “Hello, Ms. Taylor, I’m Anna Glenn, your lawyer.”
“Oh, hi, I’ve only spoken to you through email,” I say and shake her hand. “It’s great to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she says, her voice curt and no nonsense. She jumps right into a spiel about paperwork hiring the team in the room to work with me as an individual rather than an employee of Taylor Industries. We sign contracts and one of Dad’s lawyers helps her and a PR expert draft an official statement about my identity and my role in Taylor Industries. Dad and I interject with a few pieces of information or phrasing and the statement is submitted to the media.
Another lawyer sits with Bradley House, drawing up contracts for the Crows, John, and Colton. The girl who got me the folder of media headlines and links is working with another PR expert, Gemma’s agent, and Gemma. Through it all, Colton is next to me, holding my hand.
The afternoon passes and an article and video interview are agreed upon. Representatives from two media sources are scheduled for tomorrow and the lawyers get to work on contracts for that while the PR employees write out the scripts.
Dad has everyone leave so we can have a quiet, late dinner after the chaos of the day. Our dinner is served by an unmasked Sparrow. I had almost forgotten about the house staff who would be unmasked as well. The Sparrow’s name is Jennifer, and she’s the one who was wearing the cute nail polish after the last spa day.
“You should call your family and let them know,” Dad says to Colton over dinner. “I assume they know very little about your job and who you work with.”
Colton nods. “Yes, sir. My mom knows I work security and I remained masked and anonymous. But she doesn’t know who, and she has yet to guess correctly.”
“I imagine wherever Wren is candidly photographed from now on, you will be, too. You might as well let her know before someone else tells her,” Dad reasons.
“Yes, sir,” Colton agrees.
“He’s obedient. I wouldn’t know what having an obedient child is like. That’s a good boy , right there,” Dad jokes with John.
Wine spurts from my nose. I cough violently while laughing.
“Jesus, Wren,” Dad scolds as Sparrow Jennifer rushes over with more cloth napkins. I take the napkins and do my best to wipe up.
John isn’t looking at me, a ruddy tinge to his cheeks and neck.
Colton’s expression is incredulous and horrified. While Dad speaks to Jennifer about bringing out some more water, Colton leans down to speak to me. “John caught us. In the kitchen.”
“Dad?” I ask, equally horrified now.
Colton shakes his head and glances up at the older men at the table.
“I will call my mom in the morning,” Colton says quietly as we resume our dinner.
John, Colton, and I all refuse to look up at each other.
“Well, I think we’ve had better conversations when half of us were wearing masks. Should Wren and I put them on now?” Dad says, trying to cut the awkwardness.
“I’m just super tired,” I say, not lying at all. “It’s been an endless day. I’m going to bed.”
The chair scrapes the floor as I stand and make my hasty escape. Totally leaving Colton to endure the awkwardness of the room on his own. He’s a big boy and can handle it. Maybe he can chalk it up to a form of degrading foreplay. In my room, I get ready for bed. Before Colton can sneak into my room, I’m out cold.
****
Morning is just as busy as yesterday afternoon. But today, it involves a film crew in the living room. A full spread of pastries, coffee, and fruit is in the dining room, and I help myself. I hear Dad in the office, and I join him, carrying my plate and coffee.
Hair and makeup arrives and they get to work while I talk with Dad and the PR team about the interviews and the vision. An hour later, I’m all made up and look great. The intended effect is Girl Next Door But Super Rich, and I think they nailed it.
I sit in front of a news reporter, Missy Anderson, under the bright lights. We’re in the living room, the fireplace behind us, and in the winged back chairs I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually sat in. The anchor smiles as she speaks to me, keeping me feeling safe and comfortable as I talk. She asks about my life in secret, friends, schooling, my involvement in Dad’s business, my love life, Gemma, and my loss of my mom. I feel like I talk with her for hours. I tell her all about the charities I’ve worked with, the initiatives I’ve taken in the name of philanthropy, and why I chose each cause. It feels great to come clean, to explain our actions, and to be known. Fame and notoriety have never been what I wanted, but I’ve always known I’d get it as soon as I was discovered. It’s part of being the daughter of a tech mogul.
Dad speaks with her next, then Gemma, Bradley House, John, and then Colton. They keep the room quiet, and I’m not present with anyone else while they talk to Missy, only the team of lawyers and PR employees. The idea that she is interviewing John and Colton is terrifying, but the PR girl, Sarah, assures me it’s simply to get their faces out there since they’ve always been photographed in the masks.
Gemma stays with me tonight, and she holds me as we watch some of our comfort movies. Tomorrow morning the article goes live and the interview airs in the evening. I’m a mess of nerves and Gemma is with me to weather the storm. Colton comes in to deliver us a bottle of wine and a kiss on my forehead (and Gemma’s after she pouts) before he leaves.
I know he wants to spend time with me. I want to be with him, too. But I want to be with him in our home. Not under my dad’s roof. I know if I were to walk into his room, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of him and I want him to moan and scream without restraint. When I get to see his face as he whimpers in pleasure, I don’t want it to be in this penthouse. I want to have the windows open, wind chimes singing in the late summer wind, the scent of the garden wafting in, and him spread out on my floral printed sheets.
So, with Gemma, I will remain tonight.