Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
The line on the teleprompter says that I should be saying thank you and wrapping it up, but I can’t. Despite what Connor told me about sticking to the script, there is something I have to say that isn’t written on that screen.
“And if there’s anyone out there who might feel what I was feeling. Afraid. Ashamed. Unsure.” I look down at my lap before returning my eyes to the camera. “Humiliated and dirty because this man did the same thing to you, I want you to know that if you come forward, I’ll stand with you. When this happened, I felt for a while like everything that mattered about me was taken away, but I was wrong. I have my voice. I have truth, and no one can take that.”
I narrow my eyes at the camera.
“Don’t let him take that from you.”
Now I’m not sure how to finish after my detour, so I go back to the line that is paused and flashing for me to read.
“That’s all I have to say for now. Thank you for your time.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sofie
I knew my announcement would make a splash, but I really had no idea it would be of “break the Internet” proportions. I find myself the center of a storm of my own making, but over which I have no control. Kyle’s camp fired back literally within minutes of my video with denials and prepared statements. My parents have made no contact, other than a regretful message from Baker indicating that he has been told I’m no longer a part of his responsibility to the Baston family and will need to find other means of transportation. I guess that’s my parents’ way of disowning me.
Kyle’s team has already resurrected the most scandalous of my exploits: the affair with a married man—homewrecker. The picture I knew could be out there somewhere, of me snorting a line of cocaine during Paris Fashion Week years ago—druggie. The two guys who claimed we had a threesome on that tequila-drenched night that I barely remember—whore. And, of course, my infamous Playboy spread—exhibitionist.
Mine.
Trevor said that was the only label I needed to worry about, but every day a new label is slapped on my back, each one weighing more than the last. I wish he were here, but I would never ask him to miss the Collective meetings so crucial to his future.
Every speck of dirt from my past Kyle’s team could dredge up, they have. None of it’s new, but one incident piled on another heaped on another has many people skeptical about the validity of my claims. It is definitely my word against his. Kyle’s trotting out his devoted wife, their 2.5 kids and half a dog, along with all the work he’s done “for the community” over the years, makes him look like a responsible, upstanding citizen and me look like a promiscuous, privileged wild child living a life so far beyond what the average woman could imagine, she just may find it hard to relate to me. Or worse, to believe me.
Well played, Kyle Manchester. Well played.
I’m sure it all hurts. My parents’ condemning silence and all the accusations, the slurs virtually flung at me from Kyle’s conservative supporters, the bloggers speculating. It probably all hurts when each blow lands on me, but one thing I’ve learned to do over the years like an evolutionary defense mechanism is to thicken my skin as needed. Only this time, the skin has grown so thick so fast, I can’t feel anything. Even the support many rape advocates have expressed doesn’t help much because I can’t feel that either. I guess I’m numb. I’m really just afraid Kyle has a knife up his sleeve so sharp it will slice through those inches of protective layers, and I’ll feel everything, and all at once, so deeply, I won’t be able to stand.
“You ready for this?” Stil asks across from me in the backseat of the car we’re sharing.
“Huh?” I look up from my phone to see Stil frowning.
“Stop reading those posts, Sofie. Kyle has those bloggers and reporters in his pocket, so of course they’ll take his side. There’s a whole other group of folks already calling for him to withdraw from the race. Two women in two weeks accusing him of rape has hurt his image and his chances.”
She grabs my purse and iPad from the floor, handing them to me.
“You’re making headway, so keep your chin up, honey.”
She flicks her head toward the quaint Tribeca brownstone where my next meeting takes place.
“You sure you’ll be okay in there alone?”
“You mean without my guard dog?” I meet the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. We’ve compromised a little on security, using one of the guys guarding me to double as a driver. I persuaded Stil I’d be okay inside this meeting without him, and that he can drive her on to the office.