Chapter 7 - DIANE LOST HER HOSTESS TABLE
Diane blamed me for everything.
Ryan’s separation.
Grant’s legal trouble.
Brooke cooperating.
The end of family dinners at my penthouse.
Especially that.
She left a voicemail:
“That home was the center of this family.”
My home.
Interesting.
When I stopped hosting, they discovered how much of “family tradition” had been funded by my labor.
No New Year’s dinner.
No Easter brunch overlooking Denver.
No Thanksgiving chef.
No guest rooms after ski weekends.
No luxury cars waiting downstairs.
The traditions did not disappear.
They became expensive.
That exposed something.
For years, Diane had acted like she was family matriarch because everyone gathered around her.
They weren’t gathering around her.
They were gathering inside my penthouse.
Around food I paid for.
Served on dishes I bought.
Her authority had been staged on my resources.
When the stage disappeared, so did much of the performance.
She hated me for that.
May you like
I stopped listening to the voicemails.
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