Three and a Half Weeks(19)

“Ella, I have to ask some uncomfortable questions of you. First, do you have any idea why Blackmon is coming after you?”

Blood rushes to my face. “Have you read my book, Stephen?”

Now he flushes. “I regret to say I have not. I have a general idea as to its contents, however.”

“Well, I met Ian last year, right out of college, and we dated for a brief time.” I know my eyes reflect my amusement as I train them on him—it’s important to look a person in the eye when talking about really, really embarrassing things. “Three and a half weeks to be precise.”

Confusion was reflected in my attorney’s eyes. “Oh?”

“Yes. Blackmon had me sign the CA right from the get-go. I had no intention of violating it, by the way. None. Circumstances created a totally unpredictable problem. You see, Mr. Blackmon…” I stop, grossly discomfited by what I have to reveal. “Is this conversation protected? For in disclosing this information to you, I may be in further violation of the CA.”

“Attorney-client privilege, Ella. It wouldn’t be considered a violation. Go on, please.”

“Ian Blackmon enjoys a certain… lifestyle. His desire was for me to join him in a particular type of relationship. I declined by leaving the country rather precipitously. I’ve been told that he made numerous attempts to contact me but was unsuccessful. After a few months, he stopped.” I shrug my shoulders. “That’s about it.”

“Hmmm, so do you think this suit is retaliatory?”

Giving it a minute for serious consideration, I wait, framing my answer carefully. “I tend to doubt it. He never struck me as the vindictive type. I think he’s probably genuinely distressed, believing I am truly in violation of the legal agreement.”

“Can it be a ploy to get you back into the relationship?”

I snort. “I seriously doubt it. Why would he? I mean, we haven’t had any contact at all between us in a year. I’m sure he’s moved on… socially.”

“So then, you have no idea as to his impetus?”

“Well, he may be embarrassed by the book and possibly desire to embarrass me also. I’m just not sure.”

“How much of the book is true?”

Damn. I do not want to answer this question but everything hinges on it, doesn’t it? “All,” I say quickly, under my breath.

“Excuse me?”

I clear my throat. “All of it… but no names were used and locations were changed. Someone would have to be clairvoyant as well as totally malevolent to try to narrow in on identity. Plus, if it’s presented as fiction, why would anyone doubt it?”

“You’d be surprised at how easy it can be to do so. You may not realize it but there very well may be some identifying details contained in the book of which you’re not even cognizant. If, say, one of your friends figured it out and casually mentioned it to someone else, the information can spread like wildfire in the public realm. Especially online. It could very well be traced back to Blackmon… and his business reputation could suffer as a result.”

Under his breath he muttered, “It’s actually much easier to prove than when one author plagiarizes another writer’s work—even though it can be blatant theft.”

He begins to spin to and fro in his swivel chair, obviously thinking, so I sit quietly and wait.

Finally, he leans in, placing his elbows on the desk. “Okay. Let me meet with Delacroix this afternoon and then we’ll talk again. If he suggests a meeting between you and Blackmon, would you agree to it?”

I close my eyes, frustrated. I’d spent so many sleepless nights missing him and crying over him—all from knowing him all of three weeks. Three weeks. I’d finally reached a point where I’d begun to slightly consider, maybe, possibly, in the near future, the perhaps unlikely possibility of dating another man. Seeing Ian would throw that all up in flux again. But, though, I didn’t want to acknowledge it even in my own head, just the mere suggestion of seeing him up close and personal sets my pulse to racing.

“If you think it advisable, then, yes,” I simply say. Heave the ball into Stephen’s court.

“Okay. I’ll let you know later this evening what we decide.”

I rise from my chair. “Thank you, Stephen. I really appreciate your assistance in this matter. I know you don’t normally handle this type of case.”

“Not at all. It’s a lot more interesting than copyright law… and I do handle this kind of thing, though admittedly they come few and far between.”

Just as I reach the door, he calls to me. “Oh, and Ella? Please try not to worry yourself into a psychotic state. It will all work out just fine.”