Chapter 59 Sidney

CHAPTER 59 SIDNEY

2013

New York

I’d been married twice since my relationship with Cass. The first—a whirlwind affair with Astrid, my SoulCycle instructor. That one hit Page Six because she’d been married to some up-and-coming Broadway producer. He planted a few items, trying to paint me as some high-powered womanizer. Total backfire—flattered, is how I felt. But Astrid and I only lasted a year. I was high on the SoulCycle endorphins, focused on getting over Cass. It wasn’t a solid foundation for long-term partnership.

But my second marriage—the real deal. Helene. She worked in politics. Chief of staff for the mayor. We were on equal footing—no strange power dynamics—a healthy relationship. In stark contrast to what I’d experienced with Cass. Cass had used me. And since I couldn’t have her love, I had forced her dependency. Great sex, but dysfunctional at its core. I told Helene about the things I’d done in that relationship, culminating in the stunt with Jake Fischer, prying Cass away from Ryan. Helene understood. She wasn’t above such tactics—no one who succeeds in politics is. We’d both gotten our hands dirty over the years, and likely would again, but also, we donated monthly to six different nonprofits and sat on the board of three others—morality is a delicate ecosystem.

I got Jake Fischer’s call late on a Monday morning. I’d gone for a nice long run before work, best one in years, and I was sitting in my corner office, looking at the sweeping view of New York thinking about how I had it all. The job, the apartment—elevator opening directly into our living room—and most importantly, the woman—finally. Then my cell rang and I saw Jake’s name. On any other day, I’d have ignored the call and sent him a notice of intent to sue for breach of NDA. He was supposed to have lost my number. But, lucky him, I was feeling generous. I answered on the third ring. I

“Mr. Fischer,” I said by way of hello.

He told me he was making amends. His exact words were “righting past wrongs,” and I was curious—the bad-boy reporter, smoothing out his rocky past. To what did we owe that turnaround? He said he would write a letter to Cass Ford (“Cate Kay”), and that he wanted me to deliver it to her, to “come clean” about what had happened all those years ago. Jake was smart enough not to threaten me with an article, but I knew he’d done well at Vanity Fair —I closely followed his career.

The truth was: It was time. Time to relinquish Cate Kay, return her to Cass. I’d been a faithful custodian, always done right by her—protected all assets, created a behemoth. Even after she left, I managed the business as if it were mine. And now the trilogy was finished—the movies made—and my work was done.

I pictured Cass the first day we met, in that classroom. How young and brazen we both were, how hungry—it was all forgivable, all of it. As a gesture of goodwill, I included with the binders a note of my own, explaining what had happened in Los Angeles.

I . Note from Cate: Did Sidney answer on the first ring (as Jake says) or third ring (as she says)? On one hand, the answer is utterly trivial; on the other, it is vital in understanding each and how they view themselves.