Free Trouble finding Blondie by Mimi Marten Page B

this asshole just say? Visitation rights? Is he out of his mind? I’m not having visitations with my son! I don’t want to be apart from him for a day of his life!  
    “Speaking of my son… You seem to know it all. Who the hell is Andree?”
    Now Philippe was lost in translation. Was it a trick question?  
    He is Andre! What other Andre is he talking about?  
    Philippe looked confused.
    “Who’s last name does my son have? Because I don’t need to get a DNA test done to know that THAT sleeping baby up there is mine. Well, who is going to tell me? Who’s name does my child carry, and why?”  
    Andre was raising his voice which was very much out of his character. Philippe looked at Simona and started to laugh out loud.
    “And I’m the evil one? You are unbelievable! You have tortured this poor man enough. Give it up, tiger!”
    Simona got defensive and pulled away from Philippe.
    “Evil? He left me hanging. Poor and pregnant. I made it. Made the best out of it, and didn’t even stay bitter. I forgave him. What more do you want? Spill two years of my life in three days?”
    “Alright, easy. I’m just saying that is a significant detail you left out. It didn’t come up yet?” Philippe was trying to calm Simona down.
    “What are you two talking about? Would somebody just please answer my question?”
    The room was amused, entertained, but also stretched to maximum pressure.
    “Somebody put this poor man out of his misery already,” said Manon, the doctor.
    “It’s my last name,” Simona spoke with a soft voice.
    “What? You got married again?” Andre was about to faint. It was too much.
    It was so raw and so honest that it made her laugh. The rest of the room laughed, too. Finally the energy lightened up.
    “No, silly, I changed my name. My name is Simona Thea Andree.”
    Andre couldn’t process any more. His brain was shutting down. He was confused. The writer lady, Noemi, took over.
    “Have you heard of the novelist, Thea Andree?”
    “The controversial story, the woman that doesn’t give interviews?”
    “Very good. That’s the one.”
    Is this lady suggesting that Simona is Thea Andree? Or am I stupid? Is it the champagne? Or is it this Goddamn day? I have lost my mind. What the hell is going on? Am I the moron here?? Or is this a conspiracy that they are all trying to pull on me?
    “Let me just make sure I’m understanding this correctly. You are the writer who wrote three books in one year and got famous for it?”
    “Of course not. I had been writing them for years. They just got published last year and this year.”
    “Are you saying you are rich?”
    Simona smiled and looked at Philippe.
    “He made me rich…”
    “And she made me richer,” Everybody was laughing finally.
    Madame Bonnet suddenly had an opening. She walked in to greet the man of the house, asking permission to serve dinner. Everybody took their seat.
    Philippe wasn’t finished as usual.
    “That was a lovely welcome. I have to declare, Andre, this was the most exciting start to an evening we ever had. Congratulations, you earned it. It will always be yours. Cheers, everyone.”
    The food was delicious, and the mood was great. Peace after a storm. Andre was mentally exhausted, but he couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome.
    “One day, you are going to give me a heart attack, Blondie. That’s for sure.”
    She smiled, but her mind was somewhere else.
    “Listen, so if you are rich, why do you still have that silly job at the hotel?” Jacques was talking with his mouth full. Simona wanted to slap him.
    “The silly job that doesn’t even pay for her babysitting.” Simona gave Philippe stink eye, mouthing to him ‘Seriously?’.
    He shot right back. ‘You know this is a tough crowd. Com’on, you can hold your own.’
    “How much do you make? And how much do you pay her?” Typical Maurice. Never turns the money market off.
    “Number one, I love my silly job. Number two, it’s none of your business how