Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
When he did, he said evenly, “If you do that, Andrew, if you drag my name into your mess, I will unleash a shitstorm on you that will bury you. You’ll be eating shit and breathing shit for the rest of your fucking life.”
“Half the world thinks you fucked around on your wife, Tom. They won’t blink, thinking you partied with me back in the day.”
“Part of that shitstorm will be Imogen taking a tour of every morning show on five continents, sharing the opposite.”
“She was never at any tournament.”
“Patsy was. Rod was. I could name five dozen others who knew my focus when I was competing. People who knew I didn’t go out and party. People who knew, once I learned what type of man you were, I had nothing to do with you. People who knew, even before I was with Imogen, I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol, not only during a tournament, but weeks before while training for it.”
“Nobody’s gonna believe Patsy. Those bitches are sisters in crime with this shit.”
“Were you inappropriate with Miranda?”
“We had a thing. It was consensual.”
“Your version of that word? Or the actual definition of that word?”
“Christ!” Andrew burst out. “If we can’t stick together, what’s our future, Tom? It’s never gonna be safe to get laid.”
This…
Fucking…
Motherfucker.
“I do not count myself in the ‘we’ in that scenario, Andrew. Your desperation during this phone call smacks of guilt to me. If that’s the case, then you’re not a man. You’re a predator. Real men should have no problem finding partners to enjoy spending time with, their partners enjoying that time as much as they do. We are weeding out the predators, Winston. Get ready to be archived. There’s no place for your kind in this world. There never was. It’s taken too long to get to this juncture. But now that we’re finally here, I’m pleased as fuck to see the good work being done.”
“Fuck you, Tom.”
Tom didn’t reply.
He disconnected.
The first thing he did was text Mika to share he’d be delayed considering he’d already texted to say he was almost out the door.
The next thing he did was block Andrew’s number.
He then had to decide who was his next call.
He hadn’t shared this situation with Rod yet.
After retiring, Tom had gone into the senior tour and commentating. Rod had started his own club in his hometown of Glasgow, and now he had five coaches working with dozens of kids. Rod, himself, was coaching a twenty-year-old Scottish phenom who, to the home crowd’s delight, and then despair, almost won Wimbledon last year.
Tom had decided the chats about Core Point needed to be face to face, so he was going to discuss it with Rod in a couple of months when they were both at Roland-Garros.
Winston did sound desperate. If he hadn’t already approached Rod, he was likely going to.
Due to that only being “likely,” Tom wasn’t sure of the wisdom of a preemptive call.
On that thought, he phoned Jamie.
His friend picked up on the third ring.
“Hey, Tom. How are things?” Jamie answered.
“Andrew Winston just phoned, sharing something was up with Miranda, there were legal implications, and he was going to lie and throw me under the bus, saying I was his alibi.”
“Fuck,” Jamie muttered.
“I can definitively prove him wrong. I still do not want his name linked with mine.”
“I can imagine,” Jamie replied. “And Kateri did tell us that Core Point is far too colossal of a player in the retail and sports worlds for our investigation to go entirely under the radar. I don’t believe Georgie is ready to reach out to either them or Winston or any of the other athletes who have been protected by Core Point to give them a chance to tell their side of the story. So Winston contacting you means we’ve been made. I’ll tell Kateri and warn Georgie.”
Tom found this concerning. “When it gets to this point, other journalists breaking these kinds of stories have had some significant issues with being threatened.”
“Apparently, Georgie’s husband is a member of a motorcycle club. They’re a large one and a famous one. They had a documentary made about their history. Kateri tells me they’re not men to mess with. And Georgie’s a tough nut. This isn’t the first sensitive story she’s broken. Core Point may think they can mess with her, but anyone they send will be disabused of that notion pretty fucking quick.”
“And Kateri?”
“I have her back, though I would imagine you’d know that won’t be hard work. She can take care of herself.”
Tom could imagine that.
“This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t gag Winston when it comes to you,” Jamie noted.
“My attorney is my next call.”
“I have a firm on retainer. They’ll have a letter delivered to him by tomorrow, outlining just how intricately they’ll dissect him if he even whispers your name in this.”