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The five of them sat in the waiting room of the Greek police department waiting for the inspector to finish his debriefing and release them from questioning.
Peg’s ears continued to ring hours after the Glass Onion exploded and threw all their lives into uncertainty. It was a welcome distraction from Byrdie’s incessant rambling as she strategized her next move now that Miles was definitively out of the picture.
She looked around the room at the unwanted family of terrible people she found herself a part of. Byrdie was tapping aggressively at her phone that Peg finally permitted her to have, no longer caring what the millionaire dimwit did with her new social media freedom.
Gov. Debella was on the phone with her husband, pacing back and forth in the waiting room as she dismissed any of his concerns about her safety and wellbeing, instead directing him to get in contact with her chief of staff to set up a tell-all interview with MSNBC.
Lionel sat quietly and stared at the wall, chewing impatiently on his lower lip.
Whiskey rested her head on the wall, bringing her knees close to her chest and covering her body with the police-provided gray blanket that they had all received. They were all still wearing their formal attire and the room was frigid. Peg felt particularly bad for Whiskey, who, while not innocent, definitely didn’t deserve to watch her boyfriend die painfully in front of her and then run for her life on a secluded island as a fire enveloped the home of one of the world’s most powerful men.
Byrdie, Lionel, and Claire had all made their beds. Whiskey was like her: she hitched her ride to one of the powerful people in hopes of bettering her life. Peg never pictured herself cleaning up the messes of a ‘50s-era racist socialite, just like Whiskey probably never pictured herself apologizing for an alt-right conspiracy nut who used his platform to encourage chauvinism and toxic masculinity. Peg didn’t know her well, but she knew Whiskey was smarter than that. She was definitely beautiful enough to find a less problematic partner. Just like Peg was competent enough to find an employer that wasn’t actively making the world a worse place.
The thought began to rattle around in her brain while she continued to ignore Byrdie’s prattling, now thankful for the ringing in her ears.
Suddenly, the door to the waiting room opened and Benoit stepped out alongside the Greek inspector who had taken Miles into custody before questioning each of them individually.
Their focus turned to Benoit. Claire shook Whiskey awake to join them at attention.
The inspector spoke and Benoit translated.
“He says that you are all free to go,” Benoit spoke through his Cajun drawl. “He’s taken down all your statements and feels as if they have enough to charge Mr. Bron with the murder of Mr. Cody, but we will have to see if they have enough evidence for charges to stick in the case of Miss Brand’s untimely death. Unfortunately, much of what we’ve provided is… circumstantial.”
“So, that’s it? We can just go home,” Claire’s eyes lit up at the news and Peg figured she was already devising how to spin the incident in the press.
Benoit spoke in a heavily accented Greek and the inspector nodded along before responding.
“You’ll all need to be in contact with your lawyers and no traveling outside of the U.S. for the next several days, but, yes. At this time, you are free to go.”
Claire stood up in astonishment and clapped her hands in relief. Lionel rose to his feet as well and grabbed the governor in a tight hug. Byrdie stood and removed her phone from her pocket. “I need to tweet this,” she said triumphantly as she swiped to unlock her phone. Peg had given up on keeping her boss out of trouble. She had given up on Byrdie altogether. She no longer cared about protecting her name and, by extension, her own as well.
She stared across the room at Whiskey who removed the blanket from her body and folded it up and set it on the chair next to her. She wiped a tear from her eye and sniffled as she stood. Her mascara was still streaking like a raccoon from the substantial amount of tears she had shed that evening. It angered Peg that the three affluent people in the room were celebrating and would be returning to their happy lives while this young woman, who had just lost her partner and likely had no idea how to make it in the world, was in mourning.
Peg rubbed her eyes, exhausted from the events of the evening before and dreading what she figured would be a nightmare travel schedule and media blitz in the next 24 to 48 hours.
She stood up and stretched and the ringing in her ears began to fade. The noise was replaced by the sound of Byrdie’s screed.
“We need to get on top of this right away. I’m thinking we put out a press release on the website, blaming Miles for the sweatshop mishap and deflecting all the blame in his direction,” she began. “Then I think we make a modest, but fair, donation to some type of charity that works with sweatshops. Like, PETA for working kids. Is that a thing?”
Byrdie snapped at Peg to regain her attention. Peg’s focus was on Whiskey who was on the phone with someone she figured was her mother. She was crying again and Peg could only make out the words, “I don’t know what to do.”
Byrdie snapped again, this time directly in front of her face. The snap represented the sound of the camel’s back breaking. Peg was enraged. She didn’t care about her bills or rent or her reputation. She was done.
“I quit,” she said in an emotionless tone.
“What?”
Byrdie’s voice was piercing.
“I quit.”
Peg growled the words through gritted teeth. She had seen Byrdie blow a gasket on previous employees. She knew firsthand how the former model felt about quitters. She watched as the older blonde woman’s face turned beet red with anger.
“You can’t quit! Do you have any idea what I can do…”
“I QUIT. I QUIT... I FUCKING QUIT, BYRDIE.”
She interrupted her former boss and placed a hand in her face to stop her from speaking.
“You people are disgusting,” Peg continued. “You, Byrdie. Two people you supposedly care about are dead and your former sugar daddy is responsible for it and all you can think about is how it benefits you!”
Byrdie gasped and began to argue back before Peg began yelling again.
“And you…”
Peg pointed across the room at Claire who looked shocked being singled out.
“I believed in you! I told my friends you were going to be president one day. Now I have half the mind to donate to your opponent. I don’t care if he wants to arrest women for having sex or put homeless people on death row, he can’t be any less evil than you!”
Claire gasped and looked around the room.
“And you,” she continued, now pointing at Lionel. “You’re an academic. You’re not supposed to be bought and sold by the highest bidder. You should surrender your PhD and apologize to… to the world. You’re a pathetic excuse for a scientist. And everyone can see this little flirty thing between you and Claire. It’s not cute and you aren’t fooling anyone.”
Lionel turned to Claire who was breathing heavily with anger. He started to explain himself before the governor’s hand blocked his mouth.
“You are all the worst people I have ever met. Miles wasn’t the exception, he was the rule. You are all just as bad as him. And I’m done with you all.”
Peg kicked her chair to the ground and stormed to the door of the waiting room. As she got closer, she saw Whiskey out of the corner of her eye who was watching her curiously.
She turned toward the young blonde woman and grabbed her around the waist. As if by instinct, she crushed her lips onto the other woman’s. Whiskey’s eyes went wide at the strange mouth on her own, but after a second, her eyes fluttered closed. Peg grabbed her possessively and then dipped her romantically before bringing her back to her feet and freeing her.
When she removed her lips, Whiskey’s eyes remained closed, but then shivered back open. She was shocked, but she didn’t push the former assistant away.
“I know that you just lost your boyfriend, like… six hours ago, but I think this is a great opportunity to promote yourself and rebrand Duke’s influence for good or whatever. I could make you a feminist icon or we could branch out into lifestyle products or whatever you want. If… if you ever want to talk about it, call me or text me or email me. Any time.”
Peg slid a business card into Whiskey’s hand who accepted it with a confused look. Peg released Whiskey’s body and opened the door. As she exited, she offered a salute to Benoit who reciprocated with a smirk.
Whiskey looked down at the card which still advertised Peg as Byrdie’s personal assistant. She slid it into the pocket of her dress and then turned to stare at the other people in the room. Byrdie’s mouth was agape, Lionel was trying to explain himself to Claire while the governor screamed into her phone at some poor soul on the other end.
Benoit turned to the inspector and said what the group assumed was some sort of apology. The man nodded before returning to his office.
After a moment, the room was silent and each person who remained inside stared suspiciously at one another. Whiskey pulled the business card out of her pocket and stared at it. She thought about how much she hated Duke’s horrendous ideas and how he pimped her out to Miles for his own benefit. For the first time in years, she felt like someone actually saw her for her own value, not just arm candy or a bargaining tool.
“Fuck this,” she said as she hurried out the door. If she ran, she figured she could catch Peg before she caught a cab and left for good.
As she ran for the exit of the police station, still wearing only her skimpy dress from the dinner that had gone awry, she was overcome by the cold of the Greek air. She shivered as she scanned the crowd in search of Peg, whom she assumed would be waiting for a cab or an Uber by the street.
As she searched, she heard a familiar voice behind her that captured her attention.
“Whiskey?”
She turned to find Peg standing near the door of the police station taking a drag from a cigarette.
Peg wore a heavy man’s coat which Whiskey assumed she must’ve bought off of a local. She unzipped the coat to allow Whiskey to join her inside it.
She ran to her and their lips met again.
Peg slipped her arm around the young blonde and Whiskey was overcome with warmth. She eased into the kiss and let herself be loved by someone who didn’t want anything from her other than her attention.
She broke the kiss and their eyes met.
“So about that rebranding idea...”
Peg smiled at Whiskey and kissed her again.