by Lauren Rowe
“Yes and no. It’s sudden. But she’s always wanted to get married.”
Her eyes narrow. “How do you feel about it?”
“About her getting married? I’m happy for her. Of course.”
“No, but I mean... aren’t you a tiny bit upset?”
“About . . .?”
“Isabel getting married.”
I pull a face like that’s an asinine comment. “Not at all.”
She stares at me for a beat, like she’s a psychic, trying to read my mind. And then, “You know that feeling when someone is driving away, and you suddenly realize you forgot to tell them something important? So you yell and wave at the car and maybe run after it down the street, but they don’t see you... and then, the car is gone? You don’t feel the tiniest bit like that?”
I smirk. “Is that your clever way of asking me if I feel like Isabel is my ‘one that got away’?”
She looks like she’s holding her breath.
I grab her hand. “Georgina, no. Isabel and I are more like brother and sister than exes at this point. I still care about her as a person, and want the best for her. If I can help her out with something in some way, without too much effort or annoyance on my part, I’ll always do it. But I know I’m not even close to the guy who can make her happy, and she knows it, too. So it’s for the best she’s found the guy who can.”
Georgie lets out a long exhale, like she just made it to the ledge after a long walk across a high wire. “Do you have any tips for me, for when I talk to her at the party? Anything at all to help me close the deal?”
“Well, for one thing, I wouldn’t mention you’re fucking me.”
Georgina rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I figured that one out all by myself. Engaged or not, no woman would ever want to give an in-depth interview to her ex’s...”
Georgina trails off, apparently not sure of the appropriate word to finish that sentence. And I don’t blame her. I have no idea how she should finish it, either.
“Here’s a tip for you,” I say. “Something that will work like a charm on her.” I pull on Georgina’s arm, guiding her to lie in my arms. “Tell Isabel you heard her franchise deal set a record in terms of salary for a female lead. Tell her she’ll go down in history as breaking new ground for women in Hollywood. Call her a ‘trailblazer’ for women in Hollywood.”
“Ooooh, that’s good.”
“Actually, that’s a great hook. Tell her you’re going to pitch the idea of a special ‘Women in Hollywood’ issue of Dig a Little Deeper, with Isabel as the cover interview.”
“Oooh!”
“I’m positive both CeeCee and Isabel would love that idea. In fact, if you want to guarantee Isabel will give you a pound of flesh in an interview, rather than her usual guarded talking points, then dangle her possibly being the face of a prestigious issue like that... only if her interview is in-depth and revealing enough.”
“Holy crap. You’re a genius! My Fairy Godfather!” She grabs my face and lays an enthusiastic smack on my mouth. “Thank you so much for this!”
“I only planted the seed. You’re going to have to go in, guns blazing, and close the deal.”
“ABC, baby!” Georgina says enthusiastically.“That means ‘always be closing.’”
“Yes, I know. Glengarry Glenross is one of my all-time favorite movies. Finally, a pop culture reference we both know.”
Georgina looks at me blankly, and I know she’s a broken clock that happens to be right at the exact right moment.
“Aw, come on, Ricci! You can’t say ABC, if you’ve never seen Glengarry Glenross!”
She giggles. “I just thought it was a cute thing hustlers say.”
I pull her to me, laughing, and kiss the top of her head. “What am I going to do with you?”
She pinches my nipple. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“Seriously, though. How do I even tolerate you, let alone like you so damned much?”
My heart lurches into my mouth. Oh, shit. What did I just say? Panic. It’s rising inside me. Too much. Too soon. She’s gotten under my skin way too fast. And way too deep.
Sighing happily, Georgina lays her palm on my chest and shoots a wide, glorious smile at me, her hazel eyes sparkling. “I like you so damned much, too, Reed. So damned much, I feel like I’m going to burst when I’m with you.”
And, just like that, my rising panic disappears... supplanted by butterflies in my stomach. No, bald eagles this time. Fucking condors.
Georgina’s stomach rumbles loudly, making her giggle.
“Was that you?” I say, laughing.
She blushes. “I’m hungry.”
“Well, damn, let’s get you fed, before the alien living inside your stomach bursts out and eats my face.”
She laughs, but, again, I know she’s clueless.
“You have no idea what movie I just referenced, do you?” I say.
“You referenced a movie?”
Oh, God, I can’t get enough of this girl. I touch her cheek. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“In the immediate future, feed me,” she says. “After that, do whatever you please.”
I kiss her full lips gently, my heart soaring around the room. “Come, come, little kitty. Let’s get you some food.”
Chapter 16
Georgina
“I can’t believe how good this is,” I say, eating another mouthful of Amalia’s amazing soup.
“It’s my all-time favorite,” Reed says. “The word ‘soup’ doesn’t do it justice.”
We’re sitting across from each other at Reed’s small kitchen table. I’m wearing a tank top and a pair of soft shorts. Reed is shirtless and in sweats, looking like a god. And for the past twenty minutes or so, I’ve been peppering him with follow-up questions about what Leonard told me at his office today. I’ve asked my questions out of genuine curiosity. But also, they’ve been my way of easing into asking Reed about an even greater topic of interest: the lawsuits I got earlier today at the courthouse.
Thus far, I’ve read two out of the three lawsuits the court clerk copied for me. I ran out of time to read the third, before it was time to head back to Reed’s house. But what I’ve read so far in the first two lawsuits has raised some serious questions for me. Well, actually, not the first one involving a lease dispute. That one was a total snoozefest, as expected.
But the second lawsuit, the one filed eight years ago by a former employee of River Records claiming sexual harassment and wrongful termination? Yeah, I’ve got some burning questions about that one. All of which I plan to ask Reed about during this meal. Just as soon as I muster the courage.
In her lawsuit, Stephanie claimed Reed pressured her into having a sexual relationship for several months, and then fired her when she refused to continue. Which means, if her claims were true, then Reed was, and is, an asshole of epic proportions. A dirtbag who’d shamelessly abuse his power.
But Stephanie’s version of Reed doesn’t ring true to me. Yes, he’s harsh at times. And arrogant. But the kind of boss who’d force an employee into a sexual relationship? Reed himself told me he never has sex with his employees. Also, when I toured River Records with Owen, back when Reed was still in New York, it was clear to me everyone on Reed’s staff, including a bunch of women, respect their boss. Yes, they said he’s exacting and tough and pulls no punches. Yes, one person laughingly said Reed can flash-freeze a room with one withering glare. But it was obvious to me they all admire their fearless leader, and would follow him to the ends of the earth.
I mean, I recognize I might not be the best person to accurately assess Reed on this topic, since the man started hitting on me the second he saw me. But he’s not my boss. And, in fact, expressly told me he wouldn’t have agreed to the special edition if it meant he would be.
Plus, I’ve never felt taken advantage of by Reed, even when we’ve gone toe to toe. For instance, backstage at the RCR show, when we were engaged in hard-nosed “negotiations,” Reed stopped me
several times, when I made a misstep, to tell me I’d said the wrong thing—basically, to give me a free pass—because he knew he’s got far more experience at negotiations than I do.
Frankly, if it weren’t for the fact that Reed settled Stephanie’s case, and has told me his philosophy regarding settlements, I’d be thinking Stephanie’s complaint was almost certainly a pack of lies, every bit as much as the copyright infringement lawsuit against Red Card Riot. But Reed did settle it. And Reed did tell me he only settles cases when they’ve got merit, or he thinks a jury will believe it.
The bottom line? I’m dying to ask Reed what the hell happened between him and Stephanie Moreland. Will Stephanie’s lawsuit make it into my article? It’s unlikely. But, either way, Reed is the man I’ve been sleeping with. The man I’ve been swooning over. Feeling addicted to. The man who gives me butterflies like crazy. If it turns out he’s an asshole who’d force an employee into a sexual relationship, then, regardless of my article, I want to know about it.
I eat the last spoonful of my soup and push my empty bowl to the side.
“Would you like another bowl?” Reed asks.
“No, I’m good.”
“Another beer?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Reed gets up and heads to the stove with his empty bowl.
“So, I did something kind of clever today,” I say.
“Oh, yeah?”
“After you said I wouldn’t believe it if I saw the list of lawsuits you’ve had to deal with over the past ten years, I popped over to the courthouse to see for myself.”
It’s a little white lie. In truth, I’d already had the printout when Reed made that specific comment this afternoon. But Reed already thinks I’m freaking Bobby Fischer, and I don’t want to give him more reasons to think that. Let him think I’m smart and sneaky, sure, but not that smart and sneaky.
Reed returns to the table, puts down his refilled bowl, and hands me a beer bottle. “And? The list is as thick as a phone book, right?”
“Well, I’ve never actually seen a phone book, but I get your meaning. Yes, it was crazy-thick. I don’t know how you sleep at night with so many people gunning for you, claiming you’ve done them dirty.”
Reed takes a swig of his beer and shrugs. “Getting sued is one of the costs of doing business, especially in California. I don’t take it personally.”
“I was amazed at how many different kinds of lawsuits there were,” I say, my pulse quickening. I’m circling the runway, getting ready to land. “There was everything from personal injury to breach of lease to copyright infringement to wrongful termination.”
I watch him closely at those last words... but he doesn’t flinch. Indeed, he smoothly takes a bite of food, as relaxed as ever.
“I’ve got a great team of lawyers,” he says. He swigs his beer. “Also, I rest easy knowing almost all of it is total bullshit. The truth shall prevail, right? And if not, then I pay what needs to be paid, and move on.”
My breathing hitches. Does that mean Stephanie’s lawsuit was the truth? But I don’t have the courage to land the plane yet. I’m still circling like a coward. “The printout noted you’d settled a lease dispute?”
He takes another bite of food. “Yeah. That was years ago. At my very first office space, I’d stupidly signed for way too long a lease period, thinking my business would expand much more slowly than it did.”
At my urging, he tells me about the case. And, as expected, it’s a big ol’ nothing-burger. In summary, Reed’s business blew up like crazy, way faster than he thought it would, and the space he’d been renting became way too small for his operations. So, he vacated that space, in order to rent a much bigger one—the one he’s in now, actually—thereby breaching his lease.
“I never denied I’d broken the lease,” Reed says. “I told the landlord I was willing to pay him what I owed him. But he wanted to gouge me. So I said, ‘Here’s what I rightfully owe you. Sue me for the rest, motherfucker.’ And he did.”
“And?” I say. “Did the guy get everything he’d wanted in the settlement?”
“No. Not even close.”
“Was it all worth it in the end?” I ask, still trying to figure out how to broach the topic of Stephanie Moreland.
Reed’s eyes light up. “Oh, God, yes. I had to act fast when the space I’m in now became available. It was the exact one I used to drive by in college and dream of occupying one day. Every day I get to walk into my lobby at River Records, every day I get to see my name above the door on that particular office space, every day I get to see all those framed gold and platinum and diamond records on those walls, I feel like I’ve made all my dreams come true.”
Goosebumps erupt on my arms. Not only about what Reed just said, but how lit up he looked while saying it. “Hold that thought,” I say, grabbing my phone. “I’ve got to make some notes. You just gave me goosebumps.”
He laughs. “Knock yourself out, Intrepid Reporter.”
I make a bunch of notes. Ask him to repeat a few things. And when I finally put down my phone and look up, I find Reed smiling broadly at me.
“What?” I ask.
He bites back his smile. “Nothing.”
“Why were you smiling like that?”
“If I tell you, are you going to get angry?”
“It depends what you say.”
“Are you going to flip me off?”
“No. I’ll refrain, no matter what you say.”
Again, he bites back a smile. “I just find you incredibly entertaining. And adorable. And, yes, amusing. And sexy. And smart. And, on occasion, all of that just makes it impossible for me not to smile.”
I return his wide, beaming, beautiful smile. “Oh.”
“Does any of that make you want to punch me in the face?”
“No. It makes me want to kiss you.”
He laughs. “Progress.”
“I’d say so.”
I take a sip of beer. Shit. If I don’t ask about this now, the moment will pass and I’ll fall hopelessly under his spell again. It’s now or never.
“So, one of the lawsuits on the printout caught my eye, in particular.” I take a deep breath. “One you settled. The case was filed by a woman named Stephanie Moreland. She said you sexually harassed and wrongfully terminated her.”
Boom.
Reed’s demeanor changes. His jaw sets. His posture stiffens. And I know, without a doubt, I’ve stumbled upon something Reed doesn’t want to talk about.
Chapter 17
Georgina
“What happened with Stephanie Moreland?” I ask. “You settled it. So, that means there was some truth to her claims... or you thought a jury would believe her... right?”
Reed drags his palm down his face. He takes a long sip of his beer. Puts down his bottle. And exhales. “If I tell you about this, Georgina, you have to promise me this conversation will be off the record. I know what you said about me being able to nix anything I don’t like in your article. But this particular thing...” He shakes his head. “It’s the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me, besides my father’s arrest and conviction. And I don’t want to have to read about it, or think about it, or see it reflected back to me through your eyes. I’ll talk about it with you, to ease whatever doubts I’m assuming you’re now having about me. But I’m only going to tell the woman I’m sleeping with this story. Not the reporter who’s trying to get herself a permanent position at Dig a Little Deeper.”
I feel short of breath. Sick to my stomach. What choice do I have?
I exhale. “Okay.”
“Off the record?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Reed takes another long swig of beer. Takes another deep breath. “Stephanie was my first full-time hire at River Records. A marketing manager I hired right after RCR’s debut rocketed up the charts. Early on, I could tell we had chemistry. But I never made a move on her because I was her boss. But then one night, Stephanie comes into my office and closes
the door. This was right before RCR’s second album was set to come out, and I was totally stressed out. Sophomore albums are notoriously dicey, and I was determined to catch lightning in a bottle again. So, I was working round the clock. Sleeping on a couch in my office. Doing way too much coke.”
My eyebrows ride up.
“I don’t do that anymore. Ever. But I was a big fan back then, especially in times of extreme stress. So, anyway, Stephanie comes in and says she knows I’ve been stressed out, and she wants to help me relax.”
I cringe.
“Yeah, it’s what you’re thinking. I was sitting in my desk chair at the time, and she kneels in front of me and gets busy. I hadn’t come on to her in the slightest before then, so it was totally out of the blue. And I was shocked. I knew I should say, ‘No, Stephanie. Bad idea.’ But I didn’t. She was hot, and I was high as a kite. And I thought, ‘Fuck it. She’s the one coming on to me. What could go wrong?’” He rolls his eyes at himself. “Well, from that moment on, she owned my ass, although I didn’t know it at the time.” He shakes his head, rolling his eyes at himself. “For the next few months after that first BJ in my office, we’d fucked around at the office. I never saw her outside of work. Never took her on a date. Never took her to my place or went to hers. But we had some fun, now and again, after everyone else had gone home. But then things got out of control. Every time I turned around, even during normal working hours, she was unzipping my pants, or begging me to fuck her over the copy machine. It was like she wanted us to get caught. Like she wanted everyone to know she was fucking the boss. And then, boom. RCR’s second album comes out and it’s a global smash. I mean, holy shit, Georgie. I’d thought their first album was big, but that sophomore album took things to another level. And then came the debut of Danger Doctor Jones, which hit top ten. And then 2Real hit number one with ‘Crash.’ And I swear to God, I thought I must have made a deal with the devil, without remembering it. Which, it turns out, I did. Thanks to my coked-out pecker. A devil named Stephanie Moreland.”
