top of page

EPISODE 374

Written by: Bre L Drew

December 31, 2025

Last Time on Town and Country 

  • Louise inadvertently walked in on Sean and Lenny discussing Tricia, during which he confessed his renewed closeness to her. Louise then asked how serious it was.

  • Meanwhile, in Miami, Jacques and Courtney were disappointed by the property mishap. They later confided in each other about their troubles, resulting in a kiss that prompted Courtney to leave the room, unknowingly dropping her earring in the hotel suite.

  • Jolene was stunned when Ernest informed her that the officers were unable to arrest Wade, who had checked out of the motel after she pressed domestic violence charges against him.

  • Mala was unsettled by Samuel’s attraction to Jes.

  • Tricia came home and was confronted at gunpoint by Wade, who threatened to kill her if she didn’t do as he said.

FRANKLIN FARM: MAIN HOUSE 

jessica-collins-headshot.jpg
chris-mckenna as Sean Lockhart.png

The chilly conditions outside are mirroring inside the main house on Franklin Farm, as Louise Saunders Lockhart has just learned that her ex-husband—whom she had been reconciling with—has grown closer to his other former wife, the woman who played a role in their divorce. It is something she partially overheard from his earlier exchange with their daughter. Questioning the seriousness of that closeness, she now awaits an answer as the two stand together in the kitchen.

 

“So please don’t keep me in suspense. How serious is it between you two?” Louise asks, a tint of sardonicism in her voice, she can’t quite hide after years of having another woman in her marriage.

 

“It’s not what you think,” Sean Lockhart prefaces. “I guess there isn’t any point in keeping this from you anymore. Tricia has been going through a lot recently, with her abusive stepfather coming back to town, trying to win her mother back. There’s a lot going on there, and I tried to intervene, but the bastard is relentless.”

 

Louise is taken aback by the admission, having assumed something far seedier—perhaps not giving him the benefit of the doubt.

 

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” she asks, her tone softer now, tinged with concern.

 

“No,” Sean responds quickly. “I shoved him into a wall in his motel room, but even that wasn’t enough to stop him from trying to drag her mother back to California. Like I said, it’s a complicated situation.”

 

“And I’m not heartless about Tricia or her mother’s ordeal, but why didn’t you say anything to me about this before, Sean?”

 

Sean slips his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t feel like it was my place to say, and I assure you, I haven’t crossed any lines with her, Louise.”

 

Louise arches a brow and asks pointedly, “Are you telling me the truth or what you think that I want to hear?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sean asks.

 

His mind briefly flashes to Tricia placing her hand over his at The Waterfall weeks ago, but he doesn’t mention it—nothing more happened, and he has no intention of it ever doing so.

 

“I do empathize,” Louise says, “but even she has other people she can rely on besides you.”

 

Sean forms an expression, ready to counter that statement.

WHEELER BUILDING: APT # 424

Leighton Meester as Tricia Meyer .webp
james-read-days-last-hw.webp

Within minutes, the one place Tricia Lockhart had always felt relatively safe suddenly becomes an oasis of everything she left behind as a teenager in Bakersfield, California—including her abusive stepfather. This time, however, he has a gun, a weapon that had never been part of his arsenal of violence until today, when she came home only to be taken hostage at gunpoint.

 

She stands in the living room of her fourth-floor apartment, tension escalating in the oppressive silence as she struggles to focus on anything at all. Her eyes drift to the bare space where Christmas decorations should be. She never cared much for them, yet now she wishes for something—anything—to distract her. Still, she’s grateful her mother isn’t here. She’d already witnessed enough at her husband’s hands.

 

Tricia fights to keep her trembling at bay, refusing to let Wade see it, refusing to appear weak. She’s hated that feeling her entire life—being forced to grow up long before she was ready, shaped by survival rather than choice.

 

Her eyes flick toward the door, then the windows—any possible escape—but there is none that doesn’t risk her life. Her phone sits beside her purse on the kitchen counter, completely out of reach.

 

“There’s still time for you to stop this,” she finally says, her voice steadier than she feels. “If you leave now, I promise I won’t call the police. I won’t even tell my mother about this… lapse in judgment.”

 

Wade Wood’s anger sharpens. He moves the gun from her head to her back, pressing it in harder as his voice drops, cold and threatening.

 

“This floor’s getting a new coat of paint if you don’t do what I say. You hear me, girl?”

 

Fear wraps tightly around Tricia’s chest. In that moment, she understands just how dire the situation is—how utterly trapped she is—and that whatever happens next may change everything.

RADCLIFFE POLICE DEPARTMENT 

OIP.jpg
Jack W.jpg

It doesn’t take long for Jolene Wood to react to the news that Wade has left the motel where he had been staying since returning to Radcliffe, determined to get her back, right after police had come to arrest him following her decision to finally press charges for domestic violence.

 

At the moment, Jolene is visibly shaken as she sits across from Ernest McKnight in his office at the police station, having just been informed of her estranged husband’s disappearance.

 

“Hey, hey—it’s going to be all right,” the police chief says gently as he moves closer to steady her. “My officers are going to find him.”

 

“I believe you when you said you didn’t tip him off about the charges,” she replies, her voice tight, “but do you have any idea where he might go?”

 

The brunette shakes her head uncertainly. In Bakersfield, she could have named his usual stomping grounds—the bar or the racetrack—but here, in a town she barely knows, nothing comes to mind.

 

“Okay,” Ernest concedes softly.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful,” she says.

 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Ernest tells her firmly. “This is not on you.”

 

Jolene hesitates, still uneasy.

 

Suddenly, her phone rings. She pulls it from her purse on the third ring as Ernest watches with curiosity. The caller ID reads Tricia.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Mom,” Tricia says from her apartment, trying—and failing—to sound normal.

 

“I’ll be home in a little while,” Jolene reassures her. “I just have to take care of an errand I can’t put off.”

 

Tricia struggles not to beg her mother to stay away, knowing Wade is there—armed—something she discovered only moments earlier.

 

After a beat of silence, Jolene frowns. “Tricia? You losing reception or something? You’re not saying anything.”

 

“There’s something you need to know,” Tricia finally replies.

 

The tone alone sets Jolene’s instincts on edge—and Ernest’s, too.

 

“Put it on speaker,” he whispers. Jolene complies.

 

“Is everything okay?” Jolene asks carefully.

 

Before Tricia can answer, Wade’s voice cuts through the line, cold and deliberate. “You need to get to the apartment, Jolene. I’ve got a few things to get off my chest. Or maybe I’ll make good on what I told you I’d do to your babydoll.”

 

He had warned her before—if she didn’t return to California with him, he’d hurt her.

 

Jolene and Ernest exchange alarming looks. Ernest subtly motions for her to keep him talking.

 

“Wade!” Jolene says, louder than she intends.

 

The call abruptly disconnects.

 

Jolene rises, shoving the phone back into her purse. “I gotta get home.”

 

Ernest is instantly on his feet, gripping her shoulders. “Let me handle this.”

 

"Ernest, you heard my hus—Wade. He’s serious; I can hear it in his voice. I’m going, and damn it, you can’t stop me,” she says, determined.

 

“I’m not letting you walk into God knows what,” Ernest says firmly.

 

He grabs his radio and barks into it, “All units, respond to the Wheeler Building. Stage outside and hold position until instruction.” before rushing out of his office.

 

Jolene follows, her resolve hardening—her thoughts remain on one thing and one thing only: her daughter.

JESMINDER CHOUDHURY AND ASSOCIATES

Parminder Nagra as Gupta Matriarch.jpg
Jesminder Choudhury.jfif

The partly cloudy winter afternoon overlooks Covington Tower in downtown Radcliffe as Mala Gupta saunters off the elevator onto the eighth floor, dressed in a purple satin blouse and a black knee-length skirt. The floor houses the law offices of Jes Choudhury, the daughter of Mala’s lifelong best friends.

 

The executive architect had been upstairs working when she decided to pay the younger woman a visit. Soon, she spots Jes in her office toward the back of the floor.

 

“Is this a bad time for a visit?” Mala calls out in her trademark British accent.

 

Jes Choudhury looks up from behind her desk, her attention pulled away from the tablet in her hands as she reviews a potential case file. She offers a genial smile. “For you, I can allow a distraction. What’s up?” She gestures for Mala to take the seat across from her.

 

The attorney is wearing a navy blue long-sleeve collared top with dark slacks, her jet-black hair styled in soft waves.

 

Mala steps into the largest office on the floor, which is mostly neat and organized, furnished with affordable yet tasteful décor and a view overlooking the city.

 

“Oh, I just thought I’d see how everything is going here,” Mala says casually.

 

Jes raises an eyebrow sheepishly, sensing there’s more behind the visit. “I can’t complain. The firm’s taking on a few cases, and I’m making rent. But you know all of that—we live under the same roof.”

 

Mala silently curses herself, trying to recover. “I know. It’s just… we don’t get much time for girl talk, that’s all.”

 

“Okay,” Jes replies, clearly puzzled.

 

“Are things going well with you and Antoine?” Mala asks.

 

A small smile forms on Jes’s face. “Yes, they’re—”

 

“Good, good,” Mala interrupts. “I don’t know Antoine all that well, but as long as he’s treating you how you deserve. Do you see a future with him?”

 

This time, Jes doesn’t hesitate to voice her skepticism. “In all the years I’ve known you—which is my entire life—I can count on one hand the times you’ve shown interest in matters of the heart. So are we going to keep circling the mulberry bush?”

 

Mala exhales before answering. “I know Samuel has feelings for you. And I want to know—do you have any for him?”

 

“Ah,” Jes says knowingly. “So that’s what this chat is about. Look, do I like Samuel more than a friend? I think he’s quite sweet—charming and handsome, too.” She admits it plainly, and Mala feels the realization settle in.

 

Mala tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re entitled to your feelings, but Jes, please don’t end things with Antoine because of that.”

 

Jes thinks back to Samuel confessing his feelings to her—and how she reminded him where her heart stood.

 

“I have no intention of doing that,” Jes says evenly. “But even if I did—with all due respect, Mala—how is that any of your business?”

 

Mala hesitates, torn between honesty and restraint, before replying quietly, “Let’s just say it wouldn’t work, and no one would come out of it unscathed.”

 

Jes folds her arms, a sharp edge creeping into her tone. “So, because I have more experience with men than your son does with women, you think I shouldn’t spoil your little boy?”

 

Mala’s expression hardens, clearly offended. “Oh, be serious. You don’t want to enter into a relationship with Samuel. It would only end in pain—trust me.”

 

Without another word, she leaves the office briskly.

 

Jes exhales sharply, still tense from the exchange, before deciding to step out herself—suddenly needing air and distance from a conversation that feels far from over.

INTERCONTINENTAL HOTEL - JACQUES’S ROOM - MIAMI, FLORIDA

GM.jpg
Melinda Shankar as Aaliyah Gupta

The dread of reaching voicemail instead of the actual person makes Jacques Laurent feel even more like a failure today—if that’s even possible, he thinks as he stands in his Miami hotel room with the phone in his hand. An hour earlier, he and Courtney had been commiserating over their failed business venture: a property once believed to be worth a potential million dollars, now revealed to be nothing more than a worthless wetland. The fallout still hangs heavy.

 

Courtney, it’s Jacques,” he says after the tone. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I know a lot happened today, and I know much of it is my fault. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here—and I promise I won’t expect anything else.”

 

He ends the call, his thoughts immediately drifting to the kiss they shared earlier, before Courtney put a stop to it, reminding him that they were both married. Even after finally being sexually intimate with Emma, an emptiness lingers inside him—something he can’t quite name.

 

A sudden knock at the door interrupts his thoughts. Assuming it might be Courtney, he rises quickly and opens it. Instead of the petite businesswoman, someone else stands there.

 

Taking in the state he’s in, Aaliyah Gupta asks cautiously, “Hey… am I catching you at a bad time?”

 

Jacques scoffs, almost amused. “That would be a goddamn understatement.” After a beat, he adds, “Do you want to come in?”

 

Without another word, his assistant steps into the suite, and Jacques closes the door behind them.

 

Aaliyah tucks a few strands of hair behind her ears as Jacques moves to the minibar. “Would you care for a libation?” he asks, lifting a bottle of whiskey.

 

“Sure,” she replies.

 

She accepts the glass from him, and as their fingers brush, the unspoken history between them begins to surface.

COVINGTON GROUP 

Parminder Nagra as Gupta Matriarch.jpg
Sendhil Ramamurthy as Gupta Patriarch.jpg

Mala does her best to remain composed, though her steady breathing—something she has been consciously doing since leaving the firm downstairs and returning to her office at the Covington Group—betrays her agitation. She is nonetheless surprised when she spots her husband  sitting on the other side of her desk, a cordial smile on his face.

 

“Hey, your assistant let me in.”

 

“What brings you by?” she asks, moving toward the desk. Jai Gupta immediately notices his wife’s less-than-stellar mood.

 

“Uh, I thought I’d come over and surprise you with lunch.” He lifts the paper bag from J&M Market, which he owns. “But it seems food is the farthest thing from your mind. What’s going on?”

 

Mala places her hands on her hips and exhales again. “I just had an insightful conversation with Jes.”

 

Without needing to hear more, Jai understands what is being implied.

 

“What did she say?”

 

“All in all, things between her and Antoine are in a decent place,” Mala replies. “But given the chance, she would consider being with our son. That cannot happen.”

 

“How did she take it?”

 

“She accused me of thinking she would corrupt Samuel because of her greater experience with men—but that’s the least of it.”

 

“Mala, I know—”

 

She cuts him off. “Jai, absolutely not. I can’t… I mean, nothing has happened yet, and hopefully it won’t,” she adds, “how is your day going?”

 

Jai doesn’t hide the apprehension on his face, clearly unsettled by his wife’s stance, even as he lets the subject drop—for now.

FRANKLIN FARM: MAIN HOUSE 

jessica-collins-headshot.jpg
chris-mckenna as Sean Lockhart.png

Sean clears his throat lightly. “Tricia is more vulnerable than you think she is, especially when it comes to anything involving her mother and her stepfather. It was hell for her growing up in the middle of all that.”

 

Louise’s expression suggests she isn’t quite sure she views her former rival that way. “As I said, I empathize,” she replies, “but it’s no fun for me coming off as the insecure partner. So, if you think things are going to continue like this, please let me know before going on another ride on this rollercoaster.”

 

Before Sean can respond, his iPhone vibrates. Louise gives a look that suggests the timing is all too perfect.

 

“Hello,” he answers. Louise watches him as he mouths a few words; a sense of urgency flashes across his face before he ends the call quickly.

 

“What’s going on?” she asks.

 

“I have to take care of something,” Sean says. “But we’ll talk about it when I get back, okay?”

 

“Do I need to guess who it involves?” Louise says, a touch flippant.

 

Sean stares at the mother of his now-adult twin daughters—the woman he has loved for most of his adult life. “You have nothing to feel threatened about,” he says quietly. “You’ve got to believe me.”

 

He kisses her softly before heading out of the kitchen, leaving Louise standing still, her eyes following him—silently hoping that whatever he’s walking into won’t change everything again.

WHEELER BUILDING: APT # 303

Jesminder Choudhury.jfif
Raymond Ablack as Dr. Samuel Gupta.jpg

Usually not one for showing up unannounced at anyone’s residence, Jes nevertheless couldn’t resist making the drive over after leaving the third floor of the Wheeler Building and heading toward her destination. She knocks on the door, her pulse quickening.

 

After a moment, she hears movement. The door opens to reveal Samuel Gupta in a red flannel shirt and cargo pants.

 

“Jes, hi,” he greets her.

 

“Hi,” she replies, her nerves getting the best of her despite having argued countless cases. “Uh, is this a bad time?”

 

Samuel shakes his head modestly. “Nah, I’m off today. What brings you by?”

 

“Let’s just say it involves your mother and me.”

 

Samuel raises his eyebrows as he steps aside, allowing her into the one-bedroom apartment that once belonged to his father. He closes the door behind her as Jes removes her coat and places it on the rack.

 

“Your mother came to my office to delve into my personal life,” Jes begins. “She asked how things were going between Antoine and me—and then she asked if I have any feelings for you.”

 

Embarrassment washes over Samuel’s face. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

 

Jes waves a hand dismissively as they stand in the living room. “I don’t blame you. It’s just that despite my love for your parents; my personal life isn’t their damn business.”

 

“Did you tell my mother that?” Samuel asks cautiously.

 

Jes nods. “I did—well, without the colorful language. Look, I’m an adult. Not naïve.”

 

Samuel chuckles softly, knowing how deeply ingrained respect runs in their culture, regardless of age. “So,” he says, his expression turning playful, “what did you say about me?”

 

Jes runs a hand through her hair before answering. “I said you’re charming and handsome. Does that work for you?”

 

Samuel steps closer, smirking. “I seem to have that effect on some.”

 

Maybe it’s that charm, or the subtle scent of his cologne, or the warmth of his smile—whatever it is, Jes leans in and kisses him. Samuel doesn’t hesitate to return it, and soon the kiss deepens as the tension between them finally breaks.

It doesn’t take long for Samuel to want more, but Mala’s words echo in Jes’s mind—about her past, about Antoine, about the complications she’s been trying to ignore. Guilt and confusion rise, and she pulls away.

 

Despite knowing Samuel is accomplished, mature, and undeniably attractive, the weight of everything presses in on her.

 

Before either of them can fully process what just happened, Samuel’s phone rings. Jes moves quickly to retrieve her coat as Samuel picks up the phone from the side table.

 

“Hello,” he answers. A pause. “What? Okay—thanks for letting me know.” He hangs up.

 

The look on his face prompts Jes to speak. “What is it?”

 

“That was my apartment manager,” he says. “The building’s on lockdown.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

He shrugs. “Didn’t say—just that it’s serious.”

 

“So… we’re stuck here for now?” Jes asks.

 

Samuel nods quietly, the reality settling in as they’re forced to sit with both their emotions—and the tension now hanging thickly between them.

WHEELER BUILDING: APT # 424

OIP.jpg
james-read-days-last-hw.webp
Leighton Meester as Tricia Meyer .webp

Surprisingly, the cab was able to get Jolene back to the building in record time, before more police arrived. She had no time to waste after hearing from Wade, knowing Tricia was in there with him. She was grateful she’d had the chance to dash away from Ernest—she knew he’d realize she was gone, but she wasn’t waiting around for God knew what.

 

She reaches the fourth floor with her key, clutching it tightly in her hand. Her phone rang, and as she answers it, instinctively lowering her voice.

 

“Hey—where are you?” she asks.

 

Downstairs, outside the building, a line of patrol cars and cones blocked the entrance. Among the small crowd gathered nearby stood Sean, phone pressed to his ear.

 

“The police have blocked off the building from the outside,” he said. “I can’t get in, dammit.”

 

Jolene had reached out to her daughter’s ex-husband as a last resort, but it was clear she was on her own. 

 

“Just stay where you are,” he tells her. “I’m sure the police will be up there.”

 

“I’ve got to go,” Jolene adds quickly.

 

She ends the call and mutters under her breath, “Like hell.”

 

Using her key, she let herself into the apartment. She didn’t have a plan—only the certainty that her baby doll needs her.

 

At first, everything looks deceptively normal. Then Wade appears in the living room.

 

Tricia sits rigid on the couch, her face pale, a gun training on her.

 

“Well, at least one of you is doing what you’ve been told,” Wade snarls. “Come over here, babe.”

 

Jolene did as she was told. As she enters the room, her eyes lock with Tricia’s. Wade grabs Jolene by the arm, yanking her purse away before she could think of doing anything foolish.

 

“Why are you doing this?” Jolene asked, her voice caught between fear and disbelief.

 

“Let’s just say I got fed up traveling around this country-ass town doing everything I could to get you back,” he said.

“And I finally found a solution to get what I want.”

 

He shoves her toward the couch. Tricia immediately pulled her down beside her, and mother and daughter clung to one another. Jolene couldn’t remember the last time they’d shared a real hug.

 

“Where did you get that gun?” Jolene asks, her voice shaking. “Wade, listen to me—I’ll go back home with you. Just leave Tricia out of this. She got nothing to do with this. I’ll do whatever you want—go back to California, anything. Just don’t hurt her. Please."

​

Wade lifts the gun, his voice low, sweat dripping down his face. "You have disobeyed me for the last time.”

​

​

END OF EPISODE

​

ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF TOWN AND COUNTRY

 

Temptation is entered.

Others get pulled into the thick of it.

A life is taken.

​

Leave your thoughts here on the T&C forum

​

bottom of page