This is supposed to be a fun weekend, and it’s starting with tears. I want to rip Tomas Vigil’s dick off. He’s an involuntary celibate because he has a shitty idea, and he’s disrespectful to women.
“This behavior isn’t because you did anything other than work hard,” Jim says. “But it does raise some questions about your vulnerability for a while. You can see here…” Jim points to a post titled Where’s Tinsley Pratt the Spoiled Brat? “They don’t know where you are. Hopefully, they’ve used the time while you’ve been away to focus on someone else. Regardless, when you return to San Francisco, for all public events, and possibly even other activities, you’ll need to go with a team—more than only Yolanda—at least until we have a better feel for the risk.”
Tinsley’s weight shifts, and I’m afraid she’s going to fall to the floor.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about this weekend,” I assure her. “And we’ll figure out a plan for when we return.”
“Tinsley, may I forward this email to myself and a few people on my team?” Jim asks. “I’d like to investigate a few things, and now that we’ve identified the group members, we might be able to get in through a backdoor with some help from people we know at the FBI and PeopleMover.”
Tinsley nods.
“I think we need a glass of wine. How does that sound?” Claire suggests.
“I know I need a drink, but I want something stronger,” I add. “Would you like a glass of bourbon, or should we get out the tequila and some shot glasses?”
Tinsley smiles, and I know we’re going to find our way out of this mess. I just wish I was a little more mobile.
“Since everyone is arriving, we should take it slow,” Tinsley says. Always practical. “Can you guys do me a favor?”
Jim, Claire, and I all look at her.
“Can we not tell anyone about this?” she implores.
Jim smiles. “I will promise not to tell, but I know everyone coming today, and I promise you’d find an enormous amount of support if you decided to share. Unfortunately, several of them have experienced some similar situations.”
“But you won’t say anything and let me say it if I feel it’s right?” she confirms.
Jim crosses his heart and holds up a three-finger Boy Scout salute.
Claire and I do the same. I lean down and kiss Tinsley’s head.
Chapter 31
Tinsley
The next day, I’m still feeling twinges of embarrassment and pain. It was hard to see those pictures and postings from men I respected and liked. I know I was red as a stop sign and radiated heat like a hot pan. No one could miss how I was feeling.
The memory will be seared into my brain forever, ready to pop up and torment me when I’m in a quiet moment.
I’m not aware of anything I’ve done to merit this level of hatred and contempt. I’ve just worked hard. I’m also kicking myself for forgetting about the email and not looking at those attachments before I opened them in front of everyone.
“Hello?” rings out from the other room, breaking me out of my thoughts. It’s Caroline.
I jump up from my spot in the living room and head for the door. “Hi! Welcome to Montana and the Magnolia Homestead ranch.”
We embrace.
“I need a stiff drink after that ride in,” she says. “It was a bit bumpy there at the end, and you know these private planes are the most dangerous of all.”
Molly appears to meet our needs, and a few minutes later, with drinks in hand, the ladies and I are sitting on the back porch in rocking chairs. Our view is the lush green mountain base.
“Ahhh. This is exactly what I needed,” Caroline sighs.
“Agreed,” Claire exclaims.
Caroline eyes me over her glass. “What has you so stressed? Is your software going left when you want it to go right?”
I bite back the tears. I don’t want to go into any of this right now. With Chrissy, I’m safe, but she’s not here. But I can’t ignore her question. “No, I recently found out some of my friends are not my friends.”
Caroline rocks in her chair. “The first year you have money is always the hardest. People you thought were your friends want to see you do well, only not better than they’re doing. It’s jealousy at its core. I know it sounds flippant for me to say you’ll learn to ignore them, but you will.”
I figure if anyone has dealt with this, Caroline Arnault has. She’s been in the gossip rags since I was in elementary school.
I decide I can trust her. “There’s a PeopleMover group that many of the people I went to grad school with are—”
“They’re a bunch of incels, so they don’t want to see any female be successful,” Claire interjects.
Caroline nods. “You do have the disadvantage of technology being so dominated by emotionally stunted men. But it’s jealousy. They aren’t going to be happy for you, because they aren’t happy for themselves.”
I roll that over in my brain. They’re a bunch of unhappy people. “Thank you. That helps me put their crap in perspective.”
“I dealt with the same thing while I was in school. Mean girls ran amok. But I had two friends, who are still among my closest friends today. I’d be lost without them. Look for those of us who are happy for your success, and after a while, you’ll find a great support system. No one can manage everything alone. It’s that village thing.”
I smile. “Thank you.” And now we need to move on. I don’t want to dwell on a bunch of idiots who, no matter what I do, won’t like me. That’s their problem, not mine. “What do you do while Mason plays poker?” I
