EPISODE 366
Written by: Bre L Drew
November 5, 2025
Last Time on Town and Country
-
Jordan remains determined to preserve her marriage to Tommy, unaware that he continues secretly meeting with Tanner.
-
Jacques secures the Miami land deal, not realizing it’s part of a scheme orchestrated by Daniel and Tommy to push him out of the Covington Group.
-
Jes warns Aaliyah not to fall for Jacques, sharing her own cautionary experience with a former boss.
-
Steven grows frustrated with Evan’s rebellious behavior and is equally displeased when Courtney chooses to return to the office rather than address the issue with him.
HOME FARM
The already darkened autumn evening settles over the sprawling Home Farm Estate. The rural Kentucky sky is streaked with deep indigo and traces of burnt orange fading into dusk through thin, drifting clouds.
The grand estate is quiet, bathed in the glow of warm exterior lights lining the walkways and highlighting the manicured landscape.
Tommy Covington had received a text from Jordan asking him to meet her at the pool on the property they share. With fall now in full swing, the temperature has dropped several degrees since summer, and the chill in the air is unmistakable.
Nonetheless, he’d dropped his things off at the guest house and checked in on Jeremy, who is currently being watched by his longtime nanny, Lillith, up at the main house.
Now, with Jordan’s text in mind, Tommy makes his way across the estate grounds. The cool air brushes against his skin, and a light breeze whispers through the trees, scattering dry leaves across the stone path.
As he nears the pool area, the gentle sound of water and the soft glow of the pool lights come into view. The heater murmurs quietly, sending a tendril of steam rising into the night air. The atmosphere feels quiet and intimate—almost too intimate—making him wonder why his wife has insisted he come here when all he wants is to unwind, change clothes, and call it a night.
Tommy steps closer and notices Jordan Covington in the pool, her movements smooth and unhurried. She swims over to the edge as she spots him approaching, and in the low light reflecting off the water, he realizes something specific.
She’s nude.
Tommy stops, momentarily caught off guard. Though his heart belongs elsewhere—to Tanner—he can’t help but feel a stir of physical attraction toward his wife. It’s been a while since they’ve been intimate, and the sight of her like this sparks an instinctive, undeniable response.
Jordan swims closer, her tone teasing yet sultry. “You see something you like?”
Tommy stands still, torn between desire and the growing emotional distance that has long settled between them.
COVINGTON GROUP
Despite the late hour, when most everyone has left for the night at Covington Tower, some light activity still takes place as Aaliyah Gupta sits behind her desk on the twentieth floor, home to the Covington Group headquarters. Since becoming Jacques Laurent’s executive assistant, staying late has become her new normal.
Moments pass before the suave businessman steps out of his office and approaches her desk.
“Aaliyah, I didn’t mean to keep you late into the evening. You can head home,” he says in his distinct French accent.
The younger woman, with her brown hair, soft highlights falling straight to her shoulders, wears a cobalt blue long-sleeve dress and matching heels. She turns to him with a teasing smile.
“So, we’re not even going to celebrate your biggest accomplishment?”
He immediately knows she’s referring to his recent success—securing the Miami land deal worth millions for the company. Though he’s received numerous praise, Jacques has kept the achievement surprisingly low-key.
Aaliyah tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and licks her lips. “Oh, come on,” she teases. “We both know you like the recognition—not to mention all the hard work you put in to make it happen.”
Jacques hesitates, realizing she might be right. Maybe he’s downplaying it because it’s been a long time since he’s felt truly appreciated, especially by Emma, as the tension in their marriage still lingers.
Aaliyah rises from her chair and places her hands on her hips. “Come on, you know you want to,” she says playfully, half-teasing, half-encouraging.
Jacques finally gives in with a small smile. “All right—how about champagne?”
“Sounds perfect,” she replies.
As she follows him into his office suite, Jes’s warning flashes in her mind—telling her not to let things with Jacques go too far because he’s still married to Emma, using her own mistakes as an example. But Aaliyah pushes the thought aside, convincing herself that one drink doesn’t mean anything.
THE WATERFALL BAR: JACKSON APARTMENT
Taking advantage of being off on a weeknight, Mae Jackson fills her apartment with the soft rhythm of R&B music as she puts the finishing touches on a martini. She scoops it up in one hand just as a knock sound at the front door.
With a knowing smile, she heads over and opens it to find her expected guest on the other side of the threshold.
It doesn’t take long for Esther Saunders to step inside the upstairs apartment above her best friend’s bar. She removes her coat and hangs it neatly on the rack near the door, revealing a multicolored, floral geometric blouse and blue jeans that flatter her mature curves.
Mae hands her the drink, which Esther accepts gratefully.
“You know I needed this,” Esther says, taking a small sip as she and Mae move into the snug kitchen. They settle into their usual spots across from each other at the counter.
“Well, I figured,” Mae replies. “How are you doing?”
It’s been a while since the longtime girlfriends have had a chance to truly catch up.
Esther takes another sip of her cocktail before responding. “Before I answer that, I should be asking you, darling—how are you and your beau?” she asks in her familiar Southern drawl.
Mae smiles, though a flicker of hesitation crosses her face. “Honestly, things between Gus and me are going better than I imagined,” she says, pausing briefly before adding, “but…”
“But what?” Esther presses.
Mae exhales softly. “It’s just—the closer I get to Gus, the more I feel like I’m betraying Horace. I know it sounds crazy since he’s been gone for years.”
Horace had been Mae’s husband for nearly forty years before passing away from cancer. She hadn’t dated anyone since—until Gus, a hospital janitor, who unexpectedly came into her life.
Esther reaches across the counter, resting her hand gently on Mae’s. “Speaking as someone who knew your husband almost as well as you did, I think Horace would want you to move on. He wouldn’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life. And from what I’ve seen, Gus seems like the right man for you. So go forward, honey.”
Mae nods, visibly comforted. “I’ll try,” she says softly. “So, have you ever thought about getting seriously involved with someone again?”
“Hell naw,” Esther says quickly. “Between my three doomed marriages and hearing what’s out there now, I’m better off staying single.” She takes a sip of her martini. “And even if I did get back out there—as the kids say—I don’t think my family would care much anyway.”
Mae notices the pain flickering across Esther’s face. “Are you still being iced out by them?” she asks gently.
Esther doesn’t respond right away, choosing instead to take a long sip of her drink.
HOPE COTTAGE
Minutes turn into hours, the afternoon fading into evening as Steven Sullivan sits on the wooden staircase. He’s lost count of how long he’s been there, his gaze drifting repeatedly to his phone. Three calls have gone to voicemail, and several texts remain unanswered — except for one brief message his son sent twenty minutes ago.
Earlier in the day, Steven learned from his wife that his teenage son had taken off, claiming neither of them wanted him around. His cousin Martha also mentioned that Evan’s been acting out of rebellion since they moved to town. In addition,
Courtney chose to return to the office rather than stay with him to get to the bottom of his behavior.
Finally, the front door creaks open. Evan Sullivan steps inside, walking past the foyer before stopping when he sees his father.
Steven straightens. “Evan,” he calls calmly but firmly. “Come here.”
Evan approaches with the slouched ease of a teenager who’d rather be anywhere else.“Dad, before you start, I just needed some space. It’s no point to overreact over this.”
By now, the lofty veterinarian rises from the staircase and approaches his son.
“Where were you?”
Evan shrugs. “Here and there,” he mutters, already trying to slip toward his room.
“Not so fast,” Steven says, stopping him in his tracks. His voice remains, but there’s a weight behind it now. “What’s going on with you?”
Evan’s answer is quick and dismissive. “Nothing.”
Steven exhales, unconvinced. “Nothing? So that’s why you were blasting rap music this morning? Or why I found out you’ve been vaping?”
Evan rolls his eyes. “Of course, she told you,” referring to his stepmother, Courtney.
“Don’t give me that,” Steven replies, his tone sharpening slightly. “I’m asking you — what’s going on?”
Evan stands there silently, knowing his father isn’t going to let it go so easily this time.
HOME FARM
In spite of the low temperature, the warmth from the pool heater and the charged tension of the moment linger in the air. Tommy stands near the edge of the pool, slightly amused and a bit speechless. He chuckles, shaking his head.
“You have no bounds, do you?” he says, eyeing Jordan in the water.
Jordan remains in the pool, her gaze fixed on him—intense, confident, and purposeful. “Want to join me?” she asks, her voice smooth and laced with intent.
Tommy sighs. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
Jordan tilts her head, studying his face. “Is there something wrong with me?” Her tone is sincere, though threaded with seduction. “You may think this is some desperate move on my part, but Tommy, I’m willing to do whatever I have to in order to fight for this marriage. And even if that means I have to do all the fighting, then I will.”
“Jordan,” Tommy says in a low, warning tone.
“But then again,” she teases, forcing a smile, “if I were Tanner, you’d jump in without hesitation. Then again, she would never be caught in anything less than a one-piece bathing suit.”
“Jordan, you don’t have to badmouth Tanner to make your point, okay?” he replies firmly.
Jordan rises from the pool, water glistening down her body under the soft glow of the pool lights. She grabs her robe and wraps it loosely around her damp frame, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders. Stepping close, near him, her presence heavy with desire.
“Sooner or later,” she whispers, “you’re going to give in… so you might as well do it now.”
Tommy tries to resist, his mind clouding with images of Tanner—the woman he truly loves. But Jordan’s closeness and the sight of her damp curves stir something undeniable in him, no matter how much he tries to push it away.
Just then, a text notification buzzes from his phone—an unexpected reprieve.
He quickly checks the screen.
I need to see you tomorrow morning! it reads. It’s from his father. Likely about the plan to force Jacques out of the company.
Tommy slips his phone back into his pocket, still flustered but grateful for the interruption.
“At least I still get to you,” Jordan says with a smirk, sauntering off and softly humming to herself, mostly on key.
Tommy watches her go, exhaling slowly. His arousal lingers, leaving him conflicted—torn between the deep emotional connection he feels for Tanner and the complicated, physical pull he still has toward Jordan, his wife and the mother of his child.
HOPE COTTAGE
Evan slides his hands into his pockets. “Like I said, there isn’t anything wrong, okay?”
From the look on Steven’s face, he isn’t convinced in the slightest. His instincts — and memories of being a teenager himself — tell him otherwise.
“What’s going on with you?” he asks, frustration creeping into his voice. “You used to be able to talk to me.”
Evan mumbles something under his breath.
“What was that?” Steven presses.
“Nothing,” Evan repeats, a little louder this time. “And it’s not that big a deal that I vape. I mean, most of my friends did it back in Orlando, and it’s a lot better than smoking cigarettes,” he says defensively.
“A lot better than—” Steven stops himself, takes a breath, and continues. “Evan, there are risks to vaping. God knows what’s in those things, not to mention what it can do to your health.”
Evan rolls his eyes — a gesture he’s perfected whenever his mother or now, his stepfather lectures him. He clearly isn’t interested.
“I’m tired,” he mutters. “I just want to grab a shower and crash.”
“I’m not done talking to you yet,” Steven says steadfastly, but Evan is already heading upstairs. “We’re not done talking about this,” he calls after him.
Left alone, Steven exhales heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose, worn down by concern and confusion.
THE WATERFALL BAR: JACKSON APARTMENT
It doesn’t take long for the conversation between Mae and Esther to turn to Emma, whose secret about her half-sister’s paternity had shaken the once-steady Saunders family. Esther only revealed the truth when her great-niece Lenny needed a bone marrow donor—never expecting to be a match herself—but the revelation left much of her family barely tolerating her.
"I'm still the doggone bad guy in most of their eyes, but if it wasn’t for me, Lenny… heaven forbid, might’ve—" Esther stops herself from finishing that thought, grateful the girl is all right now and living cancer-free. “I thought at least by now I’d get some civility, but other than Steven, little SJ, and sometimes Martha, I’m persona non grata. And don’t even get me started on how Sarah Lynn is going out of her way to ingratiate that girl into the family fold.”
By now, Mae has fixed herself a glass of Pinot Grigio and holds it in her hand. “Esther, what is this really about?” she asks directly.
“What are you talking about?” Esther deflects, sipping her martini.
Mae studies her friend’s discomfort. “Not only are you being isolated from the family, but now you’ve got this much younger sister, conceived because your ex–best friend slept with your father while married to your mother. That’s a lot for anyone to process. But it isn’t Emma’s fault how she got here. I think, deep down, when you see her, you don’t see a sister—you see the affair."
“So, what are you saying?” Esther asks, trying to process the words.
Mae takes a soft sip of her wine before responding. “Your real issue is that you’re still angry at your father. Even more angry with him than with Deirdre. Since you can’t confront him, you’re taking that resentment out on Emma—and that’s wrong.”
Esther sets her empty cocktail glass on the counter and steps away. “I love you dearly, Mae, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mae tilts her head subtly, indicating otherwise.
“And anyway,” Esther counters, “when did you start defending Emma? Last time I checked, she cheated on your son with her now-husband.”
The Covington heiress had slept with Jacques while still involved with Will, ending their relationship.
“I’m aware of that,” Mae admits evenly. “And while I’m not Emma’s biggest fan, she doesn’t deserve all this thrown at her feet.”
Esther shakes her head, though a part of her knows there’s truth in Mae’s words.
“But” Mae continues, “at the end of the day, that girl is still your sister. If certain members of your family want to get to know her, let them. Hopefully, they’ll come around to you, too. At least you have someone who genuinely wants to be part of your family and isn’t doing it because they only need something.” Mae’s tone softens—her words reflecting her own estrangement from her daughter, Cassie.
Esther exhales and reaches for the bottle of pinot, pouring herself a glass. It’s clear this will be one of those nights when a little more alcohol is needed just to get through.
COVINGTON GROUP
The executive and his subordinate stand on opposite sides of Jacques’s desk while he retrieves a bottle of champagne from his minibar. Aaliyah watches as he pours the pale, sparkling liquid into two flutes—one of which he hands to her before keeping the other for himself.
Aaliyah raises her glass. “To you,” she says with a warm smile. “Congratulations on a deal well done.”
They clink glasses and take a sip. Jacques lets the taste linger before his gaze drifts toward her, lingering a moment longer than it should.
“You know,” he says, leaning slightly forward, “why on earth is a beautiful young woman like you not taken?”
Aaliyah is caught off guard. She sets her flute down lightly on the desk. “Good question,” she replies, attempting to mask her surprise with humor. “Maybe I’m too quick to settle. Or maybe guys are just—”
“Foolish,” Jacques finishes for her, setting his own glass aside. “Any man who lets you pass him by is a damn fool.”
The compliment hangs between them. Aaliyah studies him, uncertainty flickering behind her eyes—but curiosity, too.
Their gaze holds a second too long before something shifts. Jacques reaches out, gently lifting Aaliyah’s chin. She moves closer, and their lips meet—hesitant at first, then instinctive and fluid.
The kiss is quick and impulsive—months of tension and unspoken longing erupting in a single moment. But just as it deepens, Jacques suddenly pulls away.
Aaliyah blinks, breathless, her composure slipping. “Well… I should get going,” she says softly, smoothing the front of her dress. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jacques nods still dazed. “Good night,” he manages, his voice lower than usual. He watches her leave, and the door shuts behind her.
Alone, he wipes his mouth, then smirks faintly before the expression fades. He lifts his champagne glass again, his thoughts spinning. He knows what just happened was wrong—but the truth cuts deep: his desires have grown louder in the quiet of a failing marriage.
He still loves Emma—he knows that much. But something vital has been missing.
As he exhales, his eyes land on a framed photo of him and Emma in Puerto Rico—sun-kissed, smiling, lost in the joy of their elopement. He clears his throat, the weight of guilt and need settling in equal measure, and thinks, something has to give.
​
​
END OF EPISODE
​
ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF TOWN AND COUNTRY
Daniel warns Tommy.
Jordan becomes suspicious.
Martha and Emma trade insults.
​
Leave your thoughts here on the T&C forum