She asked, “You were kidding about eight kids, right?”
“I was thinking somewhere around two to four, with discussion, assuming everything works out.”
“That sounds not quite so insane.”
She leaned against his shoulder, feeling his arms around her in the dark.
That damn cell phone buzzed the bench yet again.
“What on Earth is going on with your damn phone?”
He shrugged, his tuxedo coat shifting under her cheek. “I’ve been getting these all day. It’s around eight o’clock in the evening in California, so I imagine that they’re getting frantic, trying to raise me before it’s too late to call. Let me put that on airplane mode.” He reached behind himself to grab it.
“Surely everybody in the law firm can’t need references already.”
“It’s the clients.”
“You aren’t the one who was swindling them! They should be calling Val and Josie.”
“They’ve been arrested, so they won’t be answering their phones.”
Rox grabbed her chest. “Oh my God!”
“As influential as the studios are, our clients have the weapon of public outrage on their side. The DA filed some interim charges while they investigate the matter. No, the clients want me back.” He flipped off the flashlight mode and held up the screen so she could see the list of text messages in the deep darkness of the gazebo.
“Back?” She squinted at the phone, the screen too bright to stare at directly after the darkness of the night.
He nodded. “The studios want to renegotiate all the contracts, every single one of them, that passed through Val’s or Josie’s hands because there’s a very good chance that an actor could go to court and have them declared fraudulent. Thus, the studios and recording companies may have distributed hundreds of movies and thousands of songs that they don’t quite hold the rights to.”
The gazebo spun around Rox, and she grabbed the bench. “Oh, Lord.”
“The clients want me to start my own law firm. I’ve got a standard reply now that I’m pasting in that I cannot represent them in any action concerning Val and Josie due to conflict of interest. It’s not ethical.”
“And so they’re backing off.” Rox nodded and swiveled on the bench.
His phone buzzed in his hand again, and he stared at it. “It’s making them froth at the mouth. They’re insistent. Even though I have assured them that I cannot possibly represent them in the case against our previous firm, their attempts at bribery know no bounds.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”
“They want me to renegotiate their contracts with the studios and recording companies.”
Rox turned to him. “And that’s bad, why?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to go back to California at all. Or if I do, my sister will send a regiment to look after me. She means well.”
Rox tapped her chin with one finger. “So we could go home.”
“The security would be oppressive. Rotating shifts. Chauffeured armored cars. It’s really no way to live.”
“How about if we lived someplace like New York?”
“Probably marginally less security. My sister is not taking these threats and attempts lightly.”
“But the attacks were when those guys thought that you were just some anonymous entertainment-industry lawyer. They thought you didn’t have the resources to defend yourself. Did Val or Josie ever know about your ‘dynastic problems?’”
“I see you figured out what Arthur meant.”
“Obviously. Did they?”
“I took great pains to make sure that no one knew. When I applied for the position at the firm, right out of law school, I asked my professors and other references to call them immediately. I had the transcripts sent over from Yale Law before they could ask. They did a criminal record check, but I don’t have any problems with that. My credit rating was not a problem.”
Yeah, Rox bet that his credit was absolutely sterling. “So Val and Josie never knew. Monty and his partners never knew. They thought you were just some lawyer. They will probably poop their pants when they find out. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when he sees you arrive with security commandos and snipers and a flippin’ tank rolling through the middle of Los Angeles.”
Casimir smiled. “It would certainly change the situation.”
“Can you imagine? Monty would be sitting there in his office, at that long, stupid conference table of his, and the door blows open and a squad of black-fatigued, gun-toting commandos storm into the room, throw him on the table and frisk him, and then slam him back into his chair. Then we stroll in and tell him that we need to talk to him about certain clauses in his contracts.”