Virginia Thomas fell under Dick’s spell at the widely attended 12/19 prayer-and-cocktail happy hour convened to overturn the election.
Dick was working his way into an inner sanctum of donors able to pay serious retainers for disinformation and gas-lighting services.
Call me ‘Ginny’ Mrs. Thomas insisted, aroused that the square-jawed, young man held her hand longer than necessary when they were introduced.
“Come to dinner,” she suggested on the spot.
“Absolutely no fucking way!” Jane exploded when Dick told her about the invitation.
“They’re super, super connected,” Dick argued.
“I faced an incredibly painful, private choice as a teen that I’ve never told you about, Dicky.”
Ginny and Clarence were all prettied up and ready for whatever when Dick texted his regrets.
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