"Set up a press conference for tomorrow … and tell everyone about it."
She nods her head and disappears.
Sloane
I don't know how Drake got any fucking sleep last night.
I mean, sure, shit was bad in the morning, but the level of fucked up-ness as the hours went by just seemed to get worse, you know?
Don't look at me like that. Don't shake your head. There wasn't anything I could do at that point.
The only think I could think of doing was talk to Natalie. Just a quick phone call.
Obviously, it probably wasn't a good idea to go to her place, or have her come to mine. Not with all the reporters I was seeing camped out on the sidewalk outside of One57.
Turns out there were reporters outside Natalie's apartment too.
I mean, it's not hard to tell why. A reigning king of Wall Street, the daughter of one of the most prominent politicians in New York City, and a venture capitalist like me, all having sex with each other?
You can't make this shit up. This is like one of those books that Alexis Angel comes up with. It just doesn't happen in real life.
Until it's happening now.
All of a sudden, people are seeing this happen right in front of their eyes and they can't get enough of it.
The news has been nonstop about this on television. They're waiting for the press conference to start.
It's being held outside Carlton Capital's headquarters and I decided to come see for myself. There's a pretty decent crowd standing on the steps of the building. It's reporters in the front and middle with regular people crowding to see what's going on too.
The newspapers followed the television stations this morning with more scandalous headlines.
"Three's a Crowd? Not Anymore!" said the Daily Post. I don't know what the New York Daily Journal said.
I don't really fucking care at this point.
I mean, it really seemed like we were getting somewhere, you know?
I know we had the threat of Linda Vanderhill over our heads the entire time after Python, but it seemed that we were getting stronger. It seemed that we were going to overcome this.
What I think we never fucking realized was how fast and how strong the negative backlash was going to be. How quickly it spread from breathless gossip to negative fucking judgment.
No one has recognized me yet, and I don't know that I really care about that.
I know, I know. I shouldn't be fucking ashamed of the people that I love.
And I'm not.
Really. If someone has a problem with Natalie they can come tell me to my face. Then they can watch as I proceed to break that fucking face.
Even fucking Drake. Anyone has a problem with him and I, then they better get the fucking undertaker ready.
Like I said, I'm not gay. But you assault my family—the people I consider to be my lovers—and you better be ready to face the fire that is Sloane Hardman.
But that's not why I'm staying on the edges of the crowd today.
This is Drake's show. This is his shit.
His firm is the one that got the brunt of the media scrutiny. That basically had the rug pulled out from under him.