Chapter 29 #2
“Nico’s putting his staff through the ringer.
Whoever’s behind this will be flushed out soon even without Stuart’s help.
” Tommy stood to his full height, the chair legs scraping the hard floor.
He stretched, lifting his hands to the ceiling, doing his best to stifle a yawn.
“Nico’s been with Slade longer than anyone. He’ll watch out for Mace.”
“So, it’s out. We give it a few days then start livin’ our lives again?” I asked.
“That would be an ideal outcome. The concern for me that complicates all this is the people behind the blackmail attempt and what they actually have in their arsenal? They wanted a million in Bitcoin to stay quiet. The pictures we saw are tame. It still doesn’t make sense.
” A million in Bitcoin? Maybe keeping myself out of the information loop wasn’t my best plan.
“Now we wait for their response?” my mom asked.
“We should hear something by the morning. If not, then it complicates things. Slade wants you to know he’s thinking about you and will make contact in the morning. He’s in constant meetings until we figure out where this goes from here. I’ll be here with you for the foreseeable future.”
“All right then,” my mom said as if it were settled. “Tommy, I’m makin’ tuna casserole. Stay and have dinner with us. We’ll have more than enough.”
“Tuna casserole? Is that a southern-style recipe? How much spice does it have? I’m about a level zero on the spice meter,” Tommy said, perking up at the mention of dinner.
“No spice, but quite a bit of cheese and butter.” She waggled her brows.
“Then I’m in. It’s stressful here in Texas. I need all that comfort food.”
I shifted my attention back to Slade’s statement, rereading it from top to bottom. When I went to open the comments, Tommy shut the lid on me.
“You never, ever read the comments. Between AI and bots, you can’t believe anything you read either positive or negative. We’re paying a lot of money to lead the narrative. We’ll attack every single time they do.”
I didn’t know if that was true, but I went with it.
Relieved that I didn’t need to follow anything.
I knew firsthand how dark and manipulative this world could be without factoring in the online mania.
I never created social media accounts until I built a page for the sanctuary today.
My parents taught me well to seize the moment.
We needed donations, and if the shit hit the fan, maybe we could gather some money to help sustain our animals.
I needed to figure out how to add a tip jar to my page. Seemed complex to me.
On that thought, I picked up my cell phone to post pictures of the animals I’d taken over the past few months. Maybe Lori could add the tip jar tomorrow.
=?=
Slade
My gaze went back to this week’s script, having to refresh the lines, again, before filming.
Breezy sat in the side chair across from me inside my living room.
Normally, we read lines together in sync.
We only needed one or two run-throughs to make it real and flow.
Not this evening though. I tossed the script on the coffee table as I rose to my feet.
“I’m not in the right headspace,” I said as an understatement. “I’ll have it ready by tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“Of course you’re not in the headspace. I’m not here for that,” Breezy quipped, her script landing on top of mine. “You spend too much time alone these days. This is a big day for you. Your official coming out. I never thought it would happen. We should be celebrating, not frowning.”
Breezy was truly a friend to me, spending a lot of time here in my Los Angeles home. She rose, going to the extensive wet bar I had in just about every room of the house, knowing her way around to pour two of our favorite drinks, dirty martinis.
It’d been so long since I had anything other than beer I instantly craved the high-end vodka martini currently being made.
I stared at the enormous wall clock, watching the time tick away.
We were fifty-seven minutes past my scheduled post dropping about my sexuality.
It took about five minutes to receive both my manager’s and my older PR company’s termination request. Those were forwarded to Gray.
My agent’s termination request followed half an hour ago.
While I’d planned to fire the “sinister three”—my PR company, my manager, and my agent—and having them quit made that job easier, I hadn’t anticipated how it would feel to have those assholes jump ship at the slightest storm.
My hands trembled at the weight of the disruption I’d caused by shooting from the hip. What if I’d made wrong decisions?
My chest rose and fell. Hyperventilation might actually become a problem. What if this new PR Company wasn’t enough to repair the damage I’d caused?
“Here, take the drink,” Breezy said. My martini had three plump green olives. She must be worried for me. “What do we do now? Have you eaten? Are we eating or drinking the night away? I’m good with either.”
“I don’t care,” I said, but I did. I cared about everything. My sour mood was messing with my head. My turbulent stare landed on Breezy.
“Slade…” she said, sorrow filling her tone. “Remember Mace. Consider the life you wanted. Don’t spiral…”