Somehow—maybe my assistant called a car service for me, or maybe Clark drove me home, I honestly don’t remember—I find myself standing in my living room again. I crawl into bed without bothering to undress.
I must have fallen asleep, and pretty deeply, because I awaken to the sound of my doorbell ringing, and someone alternately pounding on my front door. I’m still dressed in my suit from yesterday, and I don’t bother to check the mirror on my way to the door. There’s truly no one on earth that I care about fixing my appearance for.
“Alright already!” I say as I open the door.
At once I tumble into Margot’s arms and begin to sob.
“Shhh… It’s okay baby sister. I’m here. I’m home.”
She rocks me for a few minutes until I calm down. I almost forgot how good at taking care of me she became after our mother died.
“You came,” I say in a watery voice as I pull back from her.
“Of course I did. It was time. We knew this would probably blow up, and I need to be here.”
“But what about Stirling and the girls?”
“Believe it or not, they’re getting tired of paradise. The girls miss their friends, and we were all getting restless in our relaxation, you know? They’ll be home this weekend, and then Stirling is letting them each pick a friend to take to Disneyland for a few days. Hotel, park-hopper passes, the whole works, while you and I clean up this mess. They send their love, by the way.”
She steps all the way in, dragging her suitcase behind her, and I notice that she’s still wearing the same suit she had on earlier. She must have taken the red-eye.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Margot,” I say as I close the door and lock it. “But I’m pretty much done with this mess, as you call it.”
She’s halfway to the kitchen and she turns to look back at me.
“I know, honey. And I don’t blame you. I understand if you want to take your unemployment checks and blow town. But keep your phone with you, because I still need you. I can’t do this alone.”
“Pfft. Father will never let me collect unemployment.”
“He doesn’t have a choice, he’s legally bound,” Margot reminds me.
“Either way, I’m not going back to work for him. But you and Clark can count on me for extra manpower.”
“Thanks, baby sis. I’m proud of you! You really handed him his ass in there yesterday.”
“Maybe, but at what cost to myself? Now both Damon and Father have turned against me, along with half the Board.”
“I’m here for you too, Amanda, for all of it. We’ll get through all this together. Try to put Damon out of your mind. As for Father, we’re going to let Clark mediate for both of us—you don’t even have to talk to him at all. Now, we need tee shirts, we need sweatpants, and we need food.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Within the hour, we’re both showered and in our lounge clothes. We order Thai in for lunch, and eat curled up on my couch in front of a rom-com. There will be plenty of time for us to slay dragons later.
20
Damon
I ask Jillto plan a press release saying that I’m on my way back to New York to mend fences with the gallery that cancelled on me, or some dumb shit.
Meanwhile, I also ask her to book me a modest rental house in Malibu, and board a plane to LAX. After all, I might as well be on somebody’s private beach if I can’t be on my own. I only brought a pack of small canvases and a mini palette. I can pick up some extra oils and acrylics any time. I won’t be focused as much on my artwork for a few days.
As it turns out, my “modest” temporary home used to be owned by Mel Gibson, and it’s quite the spread. The view from the master suite includes more greenery than ocean. But I find a nice sun porch on the main floor that will do as a pop-up studio if I want to do any painting. Meanwhile, I spread out a certain set of blueprints I’ve had Jill procure and send over to me by messenger. With colored pencils, I make notes on how I’m going to transform one of Rodeo Drive’s premiere retail spaces into an art gallery that no one has ever seen the likes of.
Over the next few days, I pour over all the information that Jill has compiled. First, I look at the financial records. Specifically, those key indiscretions that I’d gotten wind of, and now have enough evidence of to secure Grayson’s cooperation.
Then I study the blueprints of the flagship store and begin to see my new vision for the space in my mind’s eye. I feel an unparalleled rush of power and excitement. Only my artwork has ever given me such a rush.
Other thoughts nag and peck at me in the midst of my glee. The pit in my stomach after I kissed Sylvia that way, but the simultaneous satisfaction I felt at hurting Amanda. The anger that she’d fooled me again, and the raw pain as she’d sliced through old wounds with her cruel words. But I shove them all aside. Though rage is my motivator, I can’t allow myself to be sidetracked by emotion. There will be plenty of time to celebrate later, as Gray Sutter admits defeat and signs the document of sale of the company to me. My only regret is that I’ll only be able to imagine Margot’s and Amanda’s faces when they find out their company, and their lives, have been sold out from under them by their own father.
