Working Stiff(83)
“But you must be tired.”
“I’m not that tired. You’re a great lay, Cash, but I am not unconscious.”
“I’ll have to try harder next time, then. But truly, you don’t have to come to the meeting. Stay here.”
“Have you been snorting those pain pills they gave you? I am not going to lounge around your office like some doxy with a sugar daddy! I am a paralegal. I am your paralegal.”
“Of course, you are.”
“I’m the only paralegal who will still work with you!”
“Well, you’re the only paralegal with whom I’ll work. The others all kept playing footsie while we were in meetings. It was mortifying.”
“Well, they all thought that they were your girlfriend then, didn’t they?” She gasped. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re trying to girlfriend-zone me.”
One of his eyebrows dipped in confusion. “That must be one of your American colloquialisms.”
Rox ranted, “That’s it! You’re treating me like a girlfriend instead of a colleague. Well, let me tell you something, Casimir Friso van Amsberg. I’m a professional woman in this office. You will not treat me like your girlfriend when we’re in here. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Cash blinked, his lush eyelashes closing over his dark green eyes several times. “I am doing that, aren’t I?”
“Way to go for the deep introspection, buddy. And what’s more: I am your paralegal, first. When you ghost me, when you lose interest in my chubby ass and decide to fuck somebody else, I will still be your paralegal. I am not going to give up my job just because you decide to poke your dick in some other hole. You got that?”
“Rox,” he said, his voice breathy. He reached for her. “I would never—”
She dodged. “You will. We both know it. And don’t you lie to me, Cash Amsberg. I will whup your ass.”
“I would never dream of—”
“Stop it. Just stop it. We both know how this is going to go down. One day, you’ll find another chick that you want to boink, and then you’ll stop returning my calls and my texts and you won’t look me in the eyes when I talk to you. You’ll ghost on me. You’ll walk away, and it’ll be just like you died. Like you took a gun and pulled the trigger or you went over the side of your deck and didn’t give a damn about me or how I would go on afterward.”
He was holding out both his hands, palms up, and his emerald eyes pled with her. “Lieveke, I would never do that to you.”
Her teeth ground together in her skull, and she snarled through her clenched teeth, “I’ll bet that you say that to all the girls.”
He jerked backward like she had punched him.
She said, “Now pick up those notes, and let’s get to that DiCaprio meeting.”
She flounced out of the office.
That’s right. She damn well flounced.
AMSBERG V. ARBEITMAN
Outside the door of the conference room where the DiCaprio people were waiting, Rox paused just in case Cash needed a pep talk or to process what she had said and damn well meant, but he smiled at her while he held the door for her, just like normal. They walked in together, wearing their bitch faces.
Inside, senior partner Valerie Arbeitman was already sitting at the conference table, a tablet and notepad in front of her.
Valerie asked, “What are you two doing here?”
Rox stopped, and Cash stiffened beside her. “We’re here for the contract discussion. What are you doing here?”
“When you weren’t back from your car accident, I took my clients back.”
“This case was shuffled to us when you had your stroke.”
“You didn’t call in to say that you were coming back today, anyway.”
“Rox notified people, and I haven’t missed a meeting.”
Rox nodded, confirming that she had notified them. Rox never missed confirming meetings. Missed meetings were horrendously expensive.
Cash said, “I’ve teleconferenced or moved them, but I’ve never left people waiting. We’ve prepared for this meeting for weeks. We’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” Val said.
“Are you?” Cash’s voice dropped. “Are you ready to explain what all of the clauses mean, even Section Twelve point Six?”
Rox stared at the computer in her arms. That section dealt with DiCaprio’s compensation, and the studio had slipped in that he would get a percentage of the net profits from the film, where they had already negotiated for the gross profits. With all the deductions and depreciations that studios can claim, movies never, ever make net profits. They were trying to screw him out of millions with that one word.