“For half of Hollywood. But when you’re some big shot director with an Oscar or two under your belt, the world appears to give you a free pass.” I exhale heavily and rest my head on her shoulder. “They are so terrible, Lily. Mediation is going to kill me. It’s so pointless and I swear we’re only doing it because he wants to wear me down. He thinks I’ll bend to his will because he slides me a stupid check. He doesn’t understand it’s not about the money.”
“I know.”
“I was there, Lily. I supported him for years. I worked on sets when no one else would. I made contacts and set up events so he could crawl his way to something prominent. He’s clearly talented, but that fucker would still be stuck in Wisconsin if I hadn’t introduced him to the right people.”
“Maybe you should have left him in cow country.” Lily wrinkles her nose. “You could have shacked up with some hot-shot actor instead.”
“I’d be in the same spot. This whole town thrives on drama, sex and lies. Why do people even get married? It’s bullshit.” I zip my bag with extra fervor and narrowly miss catching my finger in it. “The only upside is his hot lawyer. I spend every session daydreaming about doing terribly dirty things to him while David watches.”
“The ultimate Fuck You.” Lily nods her approval. She’s the best friend. “I can dig that. Who is his new attorney? Didn’t you just meet him this week?”
“I did. David doesn’t like decent humans who don’t condone his shitty behavior.” We step out into the bright sun and my stomach clenches again. I need to remember reliving my college days is a terrible idea. Shots and Kate no longer mix. “Eric Stevens is the latest asshole lawyer.”
“No.” Lily stops and grabs my arm. “You did not just say who I think you said.”
“Are you still drunk?”
“That guy, oh God, Kate.”
“What?” Fear makes my stomach worse. Celebrating sending another guy running from us at the bar last night really was the worst idea ever. “What?”
“Remember when Maggie and Tim split?”
I nod. We didn’t see Maggie for months after their divorce. She left the country with her money and refused to show her face again in any of our usual haunts. It was more than the tabloids circulating their personal life, because it was just another slice of life around here, but something truly terrible had happened and she refused to ever speak of it. Not even after a bottle of Chardonnay to loosen her lips.
“Eric was Tim’s lawyer. Unless there are two of them running around Hollywood, he’s the same guy who ruined her. She lost everything.”
“I remember. Are you sure it’s him, though? I thought he worked with David’s old guy and that’s how they were paired up?”
“Definitely him.” Lily shook her head and took my hand. “You need to be careful, Kate. He’s ruthless. He’s a life-ruiner. He’s just as vile as David, except he uses the law, instead of his dick, to make things worse. Though maybe also his dick, word is he’s a serious man slut. Maybe we need to keep you hidden for a while. Just camp out at your place until this is over.”
“I’m not going to stop living my life, Lily.” I pull back, a swirling mess of confusion and defiance. “David isn’t going to control me anymore and if he thinks he can do it by using this guy, he can fuck right off. Vivian is amazing and he can’t touch me anymore.”
“He can’t.” She nods, trying to soothe me. I push her off. “But Eric can.”
I shake my head because I can’t think of anything else to say. If David thinks he can smoke me out or ruin me with his little attorney, that’s fine. I tried to play this as friendly and fair as possible, just like when he convinced me not to sign the prenup to protect the money I inherited from my grandfather years ago. But I’m wiser now. If he wants a game, he can have one.
CHAPTER FOUR
ERIC
I unlock my apartment and head straight for the washroom. I’ve been chugging water for the last hour and looking forward to this piss for twice as long.
I wasn’t going to bring anyone home, and even passed up a threesome. Hard to do when it’s been sitting on my bucket list since high school.
My heart wasn’t even in it tonight, which was both unsettling and frustrating. I’m on my way to bed when a phone rings. Not my personal phone. My piece-of-shit work phone.
I pause to listen. Every client gets their own ringtone so I know how urgent I must deal with their shit. The song loops the Beastie Boys’ “Hey Fuck You”. David McArthur, that fat fuck billionaire who thinks because he shoved his wallet into some superhero movie series, he now owns the sun and my balls.