Why Rich Men Won’t Stay Out Of Their Poor Ex’s Lives
Tales Of Week 15 Of The Andie Chronicles And Her Breakup
Day 99: Tales Of Housing Problems And Relationship Lies
I breathed a sigh of relief when I woke up and I was in my own bedroom.
My sheets.
My bed.
My walls, albeit strange at times, now James was my roommate.
At least it wasn’t Taylor’s apartment, in secrecy, in shame. I wished the stale taste of champagne would disappear though. For some reason, I couldn’t shake this hangover.
Perhaps it was because my mind was stuck at the weekend.
Why did Taylor help me? Why did he come to my rescue? And why didn’t he tell GG about this?
I know I had his reason. But in this world of powerful men and equally dominating women, this slice of Melbourne wasn’t always truthful. I was lying.
I never told anyone about my brief affair with Alex, waking up at Taylor’s, or that I knew almost everything (I hoped) about my business’s takeover. If Taylor was trying to sell me on the idea he was helping me out by lying, it was foolish of me to believe him.
He was a Gallo, after all, too.
Lounging in bed, I saw GG’s name appear on my phone. A message. Brief, to the point.
‘Love, can you get James’ spare keys for my house and check in on it? I’m worried about the rain we just had. Ta. Kisses.’
The rain? I hadn’t even noticed. The weather had everyone else in a spin, but I couldn’t let something I couldn’t control dominate my waking thoughts.
Lucky GG, I thought. My kingdom for her predicament. If only the weather was my only problem.
‘Sure can. Catch up soon?’
No response, something I sadly anticipated, as I dug through the key bowl to find James’ spare set. He once stayed there for a week, some years ago, and took my copy for her house.
James never returned them, and it wasn’t like GG was insisting I had them back, either.
Opening the door to GG’s home, 5 Lovelock Drive, I could smell the mustiness of an older home.
It was clear she hadn’t been here recently, or aired it out. That was the charm of this older suburb; the houses had a story.
Yet, if you weren’t there enough, you could smell it. Not that her home was greatly affected by it. It was considerably empty compared to the last time I saw it. Her closet was almost cleared, furniture was no longer in its usual spots.
And there wasn’t anything in her pantry or fridge. GG didn’t live there anymore. Why she was keeping the home was surging through my mind.
I looked around and wondered. Were GG and Taylor about to make their relationship official?
Taylor hadn’t mentioned it, but would he, to me?
There were enough secrets surrounding our little world, what was one more?
Day 100: Tales Of Influencers Parties And Deceitful Invitations
“Can you paint a smile on your face?”
James shoved another bao bun into his mouth before criticising my seemingly sour demeanour.
“I don’t know anyone here, James. Who do you want me to smile for?”
I yanked at my dress, a ruby and blue fitted number from the new H&M and Mugler collaboration. I should have worn stockings with the look, but James talked me out of it.
He told me I looked like a celibate shrewd in the warmer attire. I may have been looking the part right, but I was freezing.
And blaming him for it.
“Can you smile for Annabella, at least? She’s the host of this launch. And I’m trying to make the right impression.”
I could tell he wanted to note I wasn’t helping him. Yet, he didn’t tell me why we were at a makeup launch, how he got us invited, and why we had to mingle with a room full of influencers.
Surely, we should be hosting an event like this in the future, not attending them. And if he was here to take inspiration, telling me this would help.
Like a lot.
I hadn’t noticed Annabella standing at the flower arch, used as a photo backdrop, in the corner of the room. I knew her from another life; we went to school together.
A catholic private school.
Same year, same homeroom.
There were only eighty girls in the year level. She knew me as well as I knew her.
Not today, though, or the other night at Taylor’s birthday when she introduced herself to me. I didn’t think she cared to meet me until someone told her I was her date’s ex.
That’s when she clambered to understand who her threat was.
A dreaded thought raced over me. I leaned into James who was about to waltz away and mingle with a group of identically dressed women.
“Did you get this invitation from Annabella?”
He stared at me, trying to hustle away.
“I can’t remember where I got it from, I just got it.”
I pulled at his jacket, dragging it away to discover a patterned graphic t-shirt with pink swirls and puffy letters.
“Why are you wearing this?” I knew the T-shirt by heart. It was one of our samples from Highway, a key piece of our first launch.
“It’s good publicity babe. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal? The big deal?! You’re wearing something from our fashion line without asking me? You know I am a co-owner. Or have you forgotten that lately?”
This wasn’t about a t-shirt.
It wasn’t about him wearing the fucking t-shirt. It was about his deceit, his backstabbing, his deplorable behaviour anyone with half a brain would know isn’t friendship.
He was stepping all over my heart and mind, and now he was wearing the t-shirt to prove it.
Day 101: Tales Of Insta Stalking And Paparazzi Blunders
Going to the gym near Lovelock Drive is a battle of timing.
If you go too early in the morning, you could run into all the pre-work stress heads, struggling to get their sweat in before they need to be on the train. Or in their cars on their way to their jobs.
And then you have the mid-afternoon retirees, who occupy the pool and every available machine during the reliable two o’clock slump. I kissed away the post-work time slot years ago.
After much research and perseverance, I’ve concluded eleven in the morning is my perfect time.
It’s not like I’m breaking any exercise records this morning. I’ve spent the last twenty minutes on the bike peddling slowly as I scroll through Instagram.
Annabella Anderson’s Instagram to be precise. I couldn’t help myself after the beauty launch yesterday, the face of Bubble. It’s this new recyclable face mask brand.
It was a genius idea, responsible and perfectly woke. I didn’t think Annabella had it in her.
Her most recent photos were from the event. I could spot James lurking in the back of nearly every picture.
These pictures were set beautifully next to ones from Taylor’s birthday. To my horror, she included paparazzi pictures of herself, too, leaving Gimlet. It was tacky, seeing the staged faux surprise pictures next to her overly edited portraits.
Douglas was in them, of course. The combination of their local star power was setting Melbourne’s glitterati alight.
I kept scrolling. There was an announcement about her separation from Josh, her husband, the man whose name projected her into the spotlight.
Was this permanent?
A divorce?
She would never say it on her profile, but her timely ability to move on suggested it was all over.
I looked at the little name at the bottom of the paparazzi pictures.
I didn’t know the photographer, but I followed the name to a website full of pictures from the night. One was hard to make out, but you could see Taylor holding up a woman as he flagged down a car.
The photo was tagged, “Taylor Gallo Drunk Girl”.
That was me; the drunk girl. And there was the photographic evidence to prove where my life was at, in the public forum for all to see.
Leaving the gym, and walking back towards home, the image of Taylor holding me up, saving me from my own embarrassment, wouldn’t depart my memory.
I pulled out my phone from my bag, slung across my shoulder, and found his number. Do I call him? Do I send him the photo?
Why did I need Taylor Gallo right now?
Day 102: Tales Of Office Surprises And Judgemental Men
I’m not far from Douglas’s office.
Yet, it’s important to note this prestigious city skyscraper isn’t my ex’s. Though despite there being a Gallo who occupies the top five floors, I felt safe being in the vicinity.
The energy around Taylor had always been different compared to Douglas. It’s probably why his empire felt less threatening, far from intimidating.
Perhaps it was the fact he wasn’t my ex.
But once I ascended the lift and stepped out onto the top floor, pomp and circumstance engulfed me.
Much like Douglas’s office, the decorations were stark, clean, and modern. Only a pile of finance magazines stacked on a glass coffee table was all you could consider decorations. That and the Gallo name in clean print on the glass doors.
It felt like he is squatting here like he isn’t permanent but in the most elegant way.
I looked for a reception desk.
Unable to find one.
Only hallways and office doors. I suspected many guests didn’t find themselves on this floor. It was far from welcoming. After a minute or two, a young man, dressed in a neat yet juvenile suit, appeared from behind one of the doors.
“Can I help you?”
It was a good question, one I wasn’t entirely sure I had the answer to. I know I needed to see Taylor. What for? You would have thought the journey into the city would have provided enough time for me to figure it out.
“I was wondering if Taylor Gallo was available, please?”
The man looked me up and down. “May I ask who you are?”
“I’m a friend of his.”
“A friend? And what are you hear for?”
I wasn’t sure what he expected me to say. “To see my friend.”
He studied me, again. I hope he didn’t think I was more than a friend, here for a good time. I wasn’t trying to blow him in the middle of the workday.
Oh shit, please don’t think that of me.
“I’m sorry, Taylor doesn’t know I’m dropping by. If he has two minutes, that would help me, please.”
I felt the twinge of begging enter my voice. “What is your name?”
I swallowed. I contemplated using GG’s name, but they would probably know her by face.
“Andie.”
The man walked off down a corridor and disappeared behind a door. The lobby was silent until I could hear his footsteps once again.
“Mr Gallo isn’t available right now. He can fit you into his schedule tomorrow, at five. Come up here and wait right where you are and someone will collect you.”
It would seem I didn’t have a choice in the time or appointment or anything.
“And dress professionally. It’s a meeting you’re having, not afternoon tea with a grandparent.”
A meeting? With Taylor? Now an unnamed assistant was pushing me around. I thought I was popping by to say hello. I always think I know what is happening. But I never seem to get it right.
Day 103: Tales Of Formal Lawyers And Steps In The Right Friendship
“You can’t say anything about it, Gallo.” Asking Taylor about his girlfriend’s business was going to be more difficult than I thought.
Though it wasn’t like I posed it this way when I walked in.
After thinking about it overnight, I realised I needed to approach this “meeting” like I was seeking business advice.
Which I was.
What would Taylor do in my situation?
I couldn’t ask my ex how he would handle the current deception, but I could ask his very successful and savvy brother.
‘My friends are trying to cut me out of the business I started on my dining room table, what should I do?’
Yet, when I asked this, his lawyer, one Mr Peterson, was quick to shut down the conversation.
“I don’t get it.”
I looked at both men from across the boardroom table. It felt like me versus them, and I sure as hell wasn’t Goliath.
“Why can’t you say anything about it?”
The two men looked at each other, Mr Peterson shaking his head once again.
“I can’t comment, Andie.”
“You can’t comment? I own twenty-five per cent of Highway, and so do GG, Sophia and James. What do you have to do with it? For fuck’s sake, we’ve talked about it over drinks and meals and at parties.”
Though not recently, I noted. “What’s changed? What do you have to do with it?”
I couldn’t hold my frustration in any longer. It had nothing to do with Taylor at all, and yet he was another person keeping something about my business from me.
Mr Peterson leaned in toward me, his gold cufflinks hitting the table with a loud thud.
“Do you understand how the law works?”
I rolled my eyes. Condescending asshole. Taylor didn’t look amused by his lawyer’s tact.
“What he’s trying to say is that if I speak about the business, to you, it’s a conflict of interest. I’m not legally allowed to talk about Highway with you or with any other parties at present.”
Taylor’s eyes widened. He nodded, slowly, encouraging me to understand his every word.
“I’m contractually prevented from entering into negotiations with you.” Mr Peterson sharply looked at Taylor. He had said too much.
“Right, fine, I will leave then.”
I stood, knowing full well what Taylor meant. He was involved in the sabotage too, somehow. His money was on the line, in some capacity. He had skin in the game, something I never wanted. I didn’t want any of the Gallo brothers involved.
Now I was fighting with one of them to even talk about it. I walked out.
Sleeping with one was a lot easier than this, I mused as I got in the lift. At least the orgasms distracted me from the bullshit.
The lift began to drop, and as I reached the bottom, Taylor’s name appeared on my phone.
‘Go to Mamacita. Say my name to the hostess. I’ll be there soon.’
Day 104: Tales Of Waking Up In Familiar Beds And Life Changing Information
“You look better than the last time you stayed here,” Taylor noted.
I couldn’t contain my laughter. He made a good point. I wasn’t hungover, I wasn’t filled with embarrassment, and I wasn’t a hopeless mess.
After spending the night with Taylor, I was quite the opposite.
And before you get the wrong idea, no I didn’t spend the night with Taylor like that.
I mean, yes, I did spend the night at his penthouse, but as his friend. That was it. In a separate room to him.
I would never do the dirty behind GG’s back, even if she did seemingly deserve a friend treating her like rubbish. After everything Taylor told me, it wasn’t as if I had any genuine friends anymore.
“Well, it’s nice waking up somewhere and knowing how you ended up there. Thank you for last night, by the way.”
I saw my notebook and handbag still on the dining room table where I left them last night. Gathering them together, I knew it was time to leave.
“What time is GG getting here?”
Taylor looked at his watch. “I said to her one o’clock. But knowing her, she could come over at any stage.”
I opened the notebook and looked over everything Taylor had illegally told me about my business, the takeover, and the war ahead of me.
“I guess I have one question remaining from last night. Why?”
Taylor stepped towards me, seized the book from me and put it on the table. He took my hands and held them tight.
“It’s the right thing to do. Someone has to stop you from being an embarrassment. Someone has to stop treating you like a child who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
And as the words left his lips, he pulled me in, holding my body against his warm, muscular frame.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Driving away from South Yarra towards Camberwell, to Lovelock Drive, I still didn’t have my answer to my last question.
I didn’t have the heart to tell Taylor that wasn’t what I meant by ‘why’. I didn’t think to wonder why he was helping me.
I should have, because his kind, generous gesture would compromise him if anyone were to find out. His business. His girlfriend. Everything.
But what I was really wondering was why my friends were doing this to me. Why are they taking me out of my own business? I thought I shouldn’t wonder about this. A true businesswoman wouldn’t care about that. We were friends first though.
How could I not feel a sting?
I called Sophia. “Tomorrow, you and me. Lunch. Tell no one,” I said. I listened to the silence before hearing a loud sigh.
“Ok. You’ve got it.”
Day 105: Tales Of Poignant Winery Reunions And Brutal Business Dealings
“The pinot noir?”
Sophia nodded and the waitress, donned in the classic Innocent Bystander uniform, put the glass down in front of her.
“And the prosecco must be yours?”
I was grateful for the drink. We both were. Up until the food and drinks arrived, we were making impersonal small talk. Weather. Hangovers. Work. The Yarra Valley.
Nothing to do with what we came here to talk about. It was torture, considering all that I knew and all I needed to confront Sophia about.
But once the pleasantries were over I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer.
“I know about the buyout.”
Sophia didn’t even pretend to look surprised. She had led me down this path, in her own weird way. It was only a matter of time before I finished putting all the pieces together.
“Ok. How much do you know?”
“Almost everything, I believe. I know that James facilitated a new investor, a majority investor, who is controlling the direction of the business. I know everyone’s shares have shrunk, as well as creative direction. And I know that Taylor Gallo has also bought himself a share, too.”
Sophia sipped on her wine. “Do you know who this majority investor is?”
I nodded then shook my head.
“I know the name of the holdings. No one can seem to tell me who the mastermind behind it is. Black River Holdings. That’s the name.”
“I’m surprised you couldn’t find any information on it.”
I couldn’t tell if Sophia was mocking me or not. For someone screwing me over behind my back, you would have thought she would act a little less smug. Or, maybe, I was really that dumb. I certainly felt it.
“I only found it out yesterday. Time hasn’t exactly been my friend. No one has.”
Sophia looked down. I could see her lip quivering.
“It wasn’t my idea. Yet, when it came down to it, everyone said it’s business and not personal.” Cliche, right? “You wouldn’t have gone along with the deal if you knew who was behind Black River Holdings. And then we wouldn’t have had the backing we need to take Highway to where it deserved.”
“So I was holding you back? Me?” Silence. “Just say it.”
“Fine. You were holding us back. No, correction. Your break up was holding us back.”
“My break up?”
Why did everything lately have to go back to that man? Why could I not get rid of him? I just wanted to be free. It was too much to ask. “What the fuck does my break-up have to do with our business?”
“Where are we? Right now? Look around you.”
“We’re at Innocent Bystander.”
“And that is…?” “A winery.” I paused. “A good winery.” I paused again, watching Sophia stare through me. “The winery where I had my first secret date with Douglas. So?”
“Come on, Andie. Put it together. You brought me here, like the way he brought you here.”
Fucking Douglas Gallo.
You’re reading a recap of The Andie Chronicles, the 2023 romance-fiction series from the 1 Lovelock Drive (1LD) universe.
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