Empire of Lies - Whitney G. Page 0,6

true, the latter ones couldn’t be. From the way my aunt gave him the side-eye when he said them, I knew a part of her didn’t believe that either.

“Now, I can’t go back in time and fix things,” he said. “but I think I can start right here and now. I want us to go into a new year stronger than we’ve ever been.”

I said nothing.

“Perhaps we can stop having public meetings and have some genuine ones with just you and me. You can finally introduce me to all your friends.”

“I only have one friend.”

“Gillian, right? Well, you can finally introduce me to her, and I can introduce you to the people in my life as well.” He looked somewhat genuine. “And perhaps, over time, we can have the type of relationship where we don’t have to worry about whether or not the stories we hear about each other are true.”

“There aren’t any stories about me.”

“Ha! Quite the contrary.” Aunt Catherine chimed in. “That’s part of the big reason why we really needed to talk to you today.”

“Just tell me the news so I can get back to work.” I rolled my eyes. “If you’ve bought another million-dollar building, congratulations. If you’re partnering with Catherine’s media firm, congratulations. All bases are covered. Can I go now?”

“Your father is dipping his toe into politics.” She smiled. “He’s highly qualified for tons of positions, but after tons of research, he’s decided to help people who—”

I stopped listening, waited for her to finish babbling about whatever unnecessary position he was taking away from someone who would probably do a better job at it.

I wasn’t wasting a ‘Congratulations’ on this.

“We also need you to lead your father’s annual women’s conference, so that people will see that you’re spending more time together,” she said. “People like to see that quality in high profile men like him.”

I knew there was a catch… “You’re already a multi-million-dollar philanthropist, Dad.” I said, looking at him. “Shouldn’t that be enough at this point in your life?”

“I’ll be able to answer that after I win.” He laughed as my aunt kissed his cheek, and I felt bile rising up my throat.

“Anyway…” Catherine set a folder on the table. “Back to you. I had your father’s team do some digging, and I’m not sure I like what they’ve found.” She lowered her voice. “We’ll need to discuss all of the men that you slept with in the years before your mother—Well, you know. They tell me that you were quite promiscuous…”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” she said. “Do I have to put it in some of those young people terms for you? You were formerly a ‘thot’, a ‘ho’, a jump-off. All of those terms mean the same thing, I believe. I’m sure you’ve suffered from your fair share of ‘Daddy issues’ but you should be long past those now.”

“I’m going to leave now.”

“Don’t you dare.” She glared at me, and my father said nothing. “If what they’re telling us is true, we’ll have to get ahead of this with a simple public statement. But between you and me, there’s no excuse for being that promiscuous.” She shook her head. “Not only that, but one of our people saw you entering 230 Park Avenue.” Her gaze was colder than I’d ever witnessed. “They followed you and saw that you went to the twentieth floor—the floor that holds a private place called Club Swan…”

I swallowed, felt all the color leaving my face.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you were there to celebrate a friend’s milestone of celebration—all forty-nine times, and that you don’t have a secret part-time career at a goddamn high-profile strip club.”

I said nothing. Her words cut too deep for me to speak.

“Do you have any idea what type of predators, sociopaths, and evil men go to places like that?” she asked.

The same ones who work at both of your companies…

“Is any part of this true, Meredith?” My father finally rejoined the conversation, looking somewhat concerned. “Is that what you like to do in your free time?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. Whenever I danced, I felt free, like all the pain from my past couldn’t touch me. My twirls were a shield, guarding me from pent-up emotions and tears. They helped me deal with bullshit moments like this.

“You are never to step foot in that place again, Meredith Alexis Thatchwood.” My aunt pronounced every syllable in my name. “Are we clear?”

“No.” I