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Working Stiff:Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1)(23)

By:Blair Babylon


"Come on, baby. It's okay."

The name on the cage read "Fairy Dust, possibly feral."

"It's okay, sugar. I won't hurt you," she said.

The cat's ragged fur stood all on end like an electric current of hate ran through her.

Rox knew better than to put her hand in the cage.

After a few minutes, she closed the cage and went to work with a cat,  Jubilee, who had been abused and was understandably terrified of people.  In five minutes, Rox had that kitty sitting in her lap and leaning  against her chest, purring with relief.





LIKE A PARTNER





The next morning, the morning of Gina Watson's contract discussion, Rox  padded through Cash's house, swinging her pumps in her fingers and  dressed in her best business chic suit. Her laptop and cell phone were  charged. The contract was heavily annotated and the notes had been  approved by both Cash and Josie Silverman, the middle partner of  Arbeitman, Silverman, and Amsberg.

They were ready to rock this thing.

She and Cash were going to walk in that office and explicate the crap  out this contract. The agents could then negotiate the final terms with  the studio, and they could go over the final draft one more time and  then sign that puppy. Watson could be filming in a week.

"Cash!" she called, walking through the house.

The three cats trailed her in a small herd. Every time she yelled,  Speedbump whined. He didn't like it when she raised her voice.

He wasn't in the kitchen or the living room.

"Cash!"

Speedbump whimpered.

"Hey Cash!"

Speedbump's grumble turned into a yowl.

"Cash, where are you!"

"Out here." His voice wasn't a yell, just a comment spoken loud enough for her to hear it.

The French doors to the deck were open, and the ocean breeze filled the house through the screen doors.

Cash was leaning over the deck railing, wearing jeans and a loose white tee shirt.

Those were not lawyer clothes.

"Hey," she called, walking out onto the deck. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I have an idea," he said, turning and resting his elbows on the rail behind himself.

"Nuh-uh." She shook her head. "You go put a suit on. You're going to the office."                       
       
           



       

"You can set up your cell phone so that I can see Watson's people."

She walked over to him in case she needed to shake her finger in his  face and leaned on the railing beside him. "You're going to video chat  this conference? They are not going to like that. They paid for Cash  Amsberg to work on their contract, not video chat because you're too  busy surfing and lying on the beach."

Not that he was surfing or doing anything remotely recreational, either.

He said, "I'm not going to video chat. You're going to go in for me and do all the talking."

No way. "I wouldn't know what to say!"

"I'll watch and listen over your phone, and I'll give you notes through the Bluetooth."

"It is so rude to wear a Bluetooth into a conference. I would never."

He gestured to her head, nearly brushing her shoulder. "Just don't tie  your hair back in one of those headache-inducing buns, and no one will  be able to see it."

He started taking pins out of her twisted-up hair, standing far too close to her and reaching around to the back of her head.

She just had to raise her hands to slide them up his chest and around  his neck, but she didn't. "I am not a lawyer. I'm a damn fine paralegal,  but I didn't go to law school."

"You've just been made partner." He pulled the brown scrunchie at the base of the bun out and unfurled her hair.

"I can't be a partner. I'm just a paralegal. I'm nothing but paid help."

"I don't like the sound of that, Rox."

"You guys gonna pay me like a partner?" She'd have her down payment for a house in about a week.

A smile played around the corners of his mouth as he lifted her hair,  laying it around her shoulders. His fingers brushed her ear, and a  tremor shivered down her spine. "We might be able to work something out.  I could pay you my salary, and you could do my job for me."

"You can't bankrupt yourself so that you don't have to go into the office."

This time, he laughed. "Oh, Rox. Paying you that salary wouldn't bankrupt me."

"How so?"

He winked at her, just a quick flick of one of his dark green eyes. "I'm  a professional poker player in my spare time. Just set your phone up,  and I'll tell you what to say."





CYRANO ON THE CELL PHONE





Rox sat in the center of the long table in Conference Room A, which was  one of the few conference rooms in the office that had solid walls.

Some of their celebrity clients actually cared about how their contracts  were written and came in with their lawyers for the discussion, and so  they used these private conference rooms for those times.

Rox had booked it because she didn't want anyone to see that Cash wasn't there.

Wren sat beside her, her long, blond hair cascading over her shoulders.  After Rox had shown Wren the Woods contract with the egregious clauses  in it, Wren wanted to see all the contracts in the office. She had found  another bizarre clause in a contract for a shock comedienne, signed six  months ago, that could cause the actress to have to pay royalties to  Tigersblood Production Company to use her own standup material that had  preexisted before she had signed the contract. Rox had nearly flipped  her ever-lovin' lid on that one.

Wren tossed her blond hair behind her shoulders. "Everybody ready?"

The lawyers on the other side of the table, one woman and two men,  nodded and flipped open their portfolios. The Japanese man held his pen  pinched with both his hands, looking very ready to do battle. These were  Gina Watson's personal lawyer and accounting team who handled all  aspects of her finances. Cash and his firm were intellectual property  contract attorneys, hired guns brought in to inspect this particular  contract.

"Let's go," Rox said. "We'll start with the first page."

At least Cash didn't need to cue her for the basic procedure. She had  done at least a couple hundred of these contract discussions with him  over the last three years.

It was really weird to do this without him there.

In her ear, Cash whispered, "Can you still hear me?"

Rox's laptop was open in front of her, supposedly to take notes on the  contract. It was small enough that she could see over the top to talk to  the other lawyers.

In a side chat window, she typed, Yes.

Cash whispered, "Good. The first problem doesn't come up until page three."

Rox lifted her chin and said in her best professional voice, "The first  problematic clause is on page three, but let's discuss the first few  pages to make sure we concur."                       
       
           



       

They dissected every page, every clause. Any time Rox was unsure, she  typed a question mark in her chat, and Cash told her what to say. She  repeated everything verbatim.

Cash whispered in her ear, "This means that principal photography must  be completed by September fifteenth, which is two weeks beyond the  customary three-month shoot, or else the studio will incur a ten percent  penalty. That protects your client from penalties for the Ridley Scott  project that she's already signed for in the fall, should there be an  overrun."

Rox repeated it as he spoke. Screw Watson, Rox deserved an Oscar for her performance in the role of a top-notch lawyer.

While the other lawyers conferred about a note to add in, she typed in  her chat window, You don't have to whisper. Just back up a little and  talk like normal.

Cash paused. "I'm just making sure they don't hear me. All right, let's go back to work."

She smiled in a professional manner, she hoped, at the team of lawyers  on the other side of the table. "There is a clause on page three that  must be struck out. We consider it a deal-breaker. If Ms. Watson were to  write an autobiography and include any material from the time period  when the film was in production or in theatrical release, so over the  period of several years, Ms. Watson would have to split her royalties  with the studio and producers, eighty-twenty, with her getting twenty  percent."

"What!" the woman lawyer Jan on the other side of the table leapt to her  feet. "That's outrageous!" She had a South Boston accent so strong that  she dropped her R's entirely, turning that last word into outwageous.  Her blond bun flopped on her head and threatened to fall apart. "I will  never let her sign that!"

"As well you shouldn't," Rox told her. "We've begun to discuss the  clause with the studio's attorney, Monty Evans. Unfortunately, he  stonewalled, and then one of our partners was in a major car accident  that afternoon."