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Forbidden Nights with a Vampire(4)

By:Kerrelyn Sparks
 
"Good news for you," Gregori whispered. "Roman dismissed her lawsuit against you."
 
"About time. I obviously didn't hurt her throat."
 
"Then Corky insisted that it would only be fair for Roman to drop the lawsuit that's been leveled against her, but he refused."
 
"What lawsuit?" Vanda asked.
 
"You haven't heard? The famous model, Simone, is suing Corky. Remember when I hired Simone to do Fangercise, an exercise DVD? Corky claimed on her show that Simone used fake teeth."
 
Vanda broke out in laughter, her voice echoing across the silent room. A dozen male Vamps shushed her. Laszlo dropped his pen and gave her a startled look. Then he glanced at Roman.
 
Vanda halted mid-laugh and cleared her throat. Damn. These old Vamps needed to pull the stakes out of their butts. She opened her mouth to say so, but Gregori touched her arm.
 
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't speak to him until he's spoken to you."
 
"Laszlo," Roman began quietly.
 
"Yes, sir?" The Coven Secretary fiddled with a button on his lab coat.
 
"Since Vanda Barkowski has finally arrived, let us proceed to the other suits against her."
 
Other suits? As in plural? Vanda glanced around nervously. Roman's wife gave her a sympathetic smile.
 
Anger sparked inside Vanda, and she clenched her fists. She didn't need anyone's sympathy. She was tough, dammit.
 
Laszlo fumbled through a stack of papers. He drew one page out. Then another. And another. Three pages? Her anger sizzled into a hot flame.
 
Laszlo gave her a nervous look, then proceeded. "Vanda Barkowski is being sued on three counts. Count one—unjustified termination of employment, resulting in loss of wages and mental trauma. Count two—reckless endangerment at the workplace, resulting in minor injury and mental trauma. Count three—assault with a deadly weapon, resulting in physical injury and mental trauma."
 
Vanda jumped to her feet. "That's a load of crap! Who's suing me?" Her face burned with heat as she scanned the room. "Where are you, you assholes? I'll show you some mental trauma!"
 
"Sit down, please," Roman said quietly.
 
"I have the right to face my accusers." She spotted three former employees hunched down in the back row. "There you are, you bastards!"
 
"Vanda, sit!" Roman ordered.
 
She whirled to face him. Dammit, he'd known her since 1950, and he was believing this crap from those whiny troublemakers? She pointed a finger at him. "You—"
 
She gasped when Gregori grabbed her arm and yanked her down hard onto her seat. He gave her a warning glare.
 
She drew in a shaky breath. Okay. She needed to calm down.
 
"How do you plead, Ms. Barkowski?" Roman asked.
 
She gripped her hands together, knuckles white. "Not guilty."
 
"You didn't terminate the first plaintiff's employment?" Roman glanced at Laszlo. "His name?"
 
Laszlo scanned the first page, then plucked nervously at one of his buttons. "He wishes to be called by his stage name—Jem Stones."
 
Chuckles reverberated across the room, then halted abruptly when Roman cleared his throat. "Ms. Barkowski, did you fire Mister…Stones?"
 
"Yes, I did, but I had just cause."
 
"No, you didn't!" a petulant voice shouted from the back of the room. "I was the best dancer you ever had. You had no reason to fire me!"
 
Vanda glanced back at Jem. "You were trying to sell your services. I run a dance club, not a brothel."
 
"The ladies were begging for me," Jem argued.
 
"And you charged them money?" Roman asked.
 
Jem huffed. "Of course I did. And I'm worth it! I'm the best there is."
 
Roman looked unimpressed. "The first suit is dismissed."
 
"What?" Jem squealed. "But I need my job back. How will I make a living?"
 
Roman shrugged. "It appears you have already embarked upon your next career. You may leave."
 
Jem muttered some cusswords as he stalked out the door.
 
Vanda felt a small measure of relief. One accuser down and two to go.
 
"The second suit?" Roman asked Laszlo.
 
"Yes, sir." The secretary fumbled through his papers. "Reckless endangerment at the workplace. This plaintiff also wishes to go by his stage name." Laszlo fiddled with a button on his lab coat. "Peter the Great, Prince of P-P-Peckers." The button popped off and rolled across the table.
 
Roman's wife covered her mouth. The sound of snickering drifted about the room. Even the priest was smiling.