Chapter 4 Dinner with the Redford Family
Timothy.
I woke up with a pounding headache and a mouth that felt like sandpaper. The unfamiliar ceiling above me spun slightly as I blinked, trying to piece together where I was. Turning my head, I saw a woman lying next to me, her back facing me, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow.
Panic surged through me. I had no memory of how I got here, who she was, or what had happened. The last thing I remembered was ordering drinks at the club. After that, everything was a blur.
I stumbled out of bed, careful not to wake her, and quickly gathered my clothes. My stomach churned with guilt and nausea as I dressed and left the room.
Outside, the morning air was crisp, but it did little to clear my foggy mind. I hailed a cab and headed home, my thoughts racing. How could I have cheated on Loretta? What was I going to tell her?
Back at my apartment, I sat on the couch, head in my hands. I needed to talk to someone. I picked up my phone and called Rowan, my best friend.
"Hey, man," I said when he answered. "Can we talk?"
"Sure, what's up?" he replied.
"I messed up," I confessed. "I woke up next to a woman this morning, and I have no idea who she is or how I got there."
There was a pause on the line. "Wow," Rowan said finally. "That's... unexpected."
"I don't know what to do," I said. "I don't remember anything after ordering drinks last night."
"Maybe you were drugged," Rowan suggested. "It happens."
"I don't know," I said. "I just feel sick about it. I need to tell Loretta."
"Yeah," he said. "She deserves to know."
I sighed. "I'm going to plan an extravagant date for her. Maybe it'll soften the blow."
"Good luck with that," Rowan said, his tone unreadable.
I spent the day planning the date, booking a reservation at her favorite restaurant and arranging for flowers and a private car. I hoped it would help when I told her the truth.
But before the evening arrived, my phone buzzed with a notification. I opened it to see a video of me and the woman from last night entering a hotel together. The headline read: Trending News: Hannah Redford’s Wild Night with Timothy Blackwood,Hotel Footage Leaked.
My heart stopped. I watched the footage in horror, recognizing myself and the woman. Then, as the camera angle changed, I got a clear look at her face. It was Hannah, Loretta's younger sister.
I felt like I was going to be sick. I had cheated on my girlfriend with her own sister. I had no memory of it, but the evidence was undeniable.
My phone rang. It was my father.
"Get home now," he said, his voice cold.
I arrived at my parents' house to find my father pacing the living room, my stepmother sitting on the couch with a smug expression.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" my father demanded.
"I didn't know it was her," I said. "I don't remember anything after ordering drinks last night."
"That's no excuse," he snapped. "You've embarrassed this family."
My stepmother chuckled. "Well, at least it's entertaining."
"Enough," my father said. "We're arranging a dinner with the Redford family to mitigate the scandal. It's tomorrow night."
I nodded, feeling numb. I had no idea how I was going to face Loretta or her parents. Resentment for this Hannah began to grow in me.
I tried to go out that evening, needing some air, but the paparazzi were waiting. They hounded me with questions, cameras flashing. I turned around and went back inside.
Over the next few days, the news only got worse. Hannah was taking the brunt of the scandal, labeled a homewrecker and gold digger. I wanted to reach out to her, to apologize, but at the same time, I didn’t. This whole thing smelled fishy to me and I’m sure she was behind whatever this was. Loretta sometimes spoke of how vindictive and jealous her younger sister was of her.
The next day came too early, and I sat in my room, dreading the evening ahead, itching to run from whatever was ahead of me. I had no idea what it was but I definitely knew it wouldn't be good.
My dad had always said I had a strong intuition, which was what lended to the knack I had for business. For once, I wished for my intuition to fail me.
It didn’t.