Romance Impossible(79)

"I don't know, Max," said Lydia. "I really don't know."





***



"Ms. Dunkelman will see you now."

I stood and followed the young assistant, whom I couldn't recall seeing before, down the hallway to Olive's office. When we reached it, she paused with her hand on the doorknob.

"I'm Stacey, by the way," she said, softly, ducking her eyes down to the carpet. "If you need anything - some coffee, or a water, or...whatever, just let me know."#p#分页标题#e#

"Of course." I smiled at her, and she finally opened the door, blushing deeply.

"Did she flirt with you?" Olive demanded, not looking up from her desk. The door wasn't even completely closed. "I ordered her not to. She's such a big fan of your persona. I suspect it's because her father was a drill sergeant."

"Good morning to you, too." I settled down in the overstuffed leather chair across from her desk. "I suppose you've seen the news."

"Well?" She looked up at me, finally. "Did you, in fact, cause him emotional distress?"

"Probably," I said. "But not worth suing over. Christ."

"Well, that's a matter of opinion. And not yours or mine, unfortunately. We have to do everything we can to prevent this going to trial. How deep are his pockets? You saw all the finances when you were trying to help save his stupid restaurant."

"Terrible. Even with the business from the show, he'd still be up to his ears in debt unless somebody waved a magic wand."

Olive nodded. "Of course, none of that matters if he found someone to work pro bono on the assumption that you'll pay through the nose, whether you're guilty or not." She cleared her throat. "And I'm sorry to say, he's not wrong."

"But I don't understand. He signed all the waivers."

Olive gave me a look. I knew, as well as she did, that waivers were mostly just polite discouragements. If someone wanted to lawyer up well enough, they weren't worth the paper they were written on.

"Can't we fight it?" I asked, already knowing the answer. It would be ten times more expensive, and it would take valuable time and resources. Going to court would be the stupidest thing I ever did. But for some reason, the idea of settling with this lunatic made me want to claw my eyes out.

"It's your money," said Olive, in a tone of voice that meant you stupid fucker. "But do you really want to gamble on having a sympathetic judge?"

I knew exactly what she meant. Filthy rich celebrity who hosted an exploitative reality show where he screamed at people, or his downtrodden victim? Who was more likely to elicit kind feelings?

"There are certain things we can address as factual issues," Olive said. "I'm not so concerned about those. Unless you have a disgruntled former crew member who's willing to perjure themselves, we can establish beyond a reasonable doubt that the show is not staged. But emotional distress?" She looked at me. "Hell, I believe him. It's just a question of whether or not it's actionable."

"He's a useless lump," I insisted. "Wouldn't do anything for the restaurant. Wouldn't do anything to help himself. I can't stand people like that, can you?"

"No, but it's not my job to scream at them on television," Olive said, calmly. "So I won't judge your performance in that regard."

"Can't we bring in character witnesses?"

"Not in a civil trial," said Olive, lips pursed. "And as your lawyer, I advise against opening that door if you do ever find yourself prosecuted for a crime."

"Thanks," I said, giving her a sour look. I wasn't even sure why I'd raised the question. Who on earth would vouch for me in court? Not Jillian, that was for certain. Not anymore.

An ugly thought was growing in the back of my mind. She'll be the next one to sue, you know...

"What about this other thing I'm hearing about?" Olive interrupted my thoughts, and for once, I was grateful. "Your sous chef walked out on you? Is that going to cause any problems?"#p#分页标题#e#

In spite of my own uncharitable thoughts, I was instantly on the defensive. "Of course not," I said. "It was just...a professional mismatch, I suppose. She's got nothing on me."

Except for the fact that you took advantage of her when she was emotionally vulnerable, and fucked her in a basement, all while she was your employee.

Olive had one eyebrow raised.

"It doesn't matter," I insisted. "She won't talk."

Please don't talk.

"Fine," said Olive. "I don't quite believe you, but fine. There's no sense in borrowing trouble. Here's what we do: suggest arbitration. He might toy with us a little bit, but he'll eventually agree. The process is going to be six levels of hell, but it'll keep it out of the press, and make it as simple as possible."