“No need,” Shane said, shaking his head. “I gave him ninety percent of the material in the article. No reason to relive it.”
Rotating her head at the neck, Christine regarded his profile for a long moment. He could feel her eyes on him, but said nothing, not even letting himself smile.
“So remind me, how much is the contingency fee on thirty-one million?” she asked, an eyebrow arched.
“Too much,” Shane said without pause.
“Almost ten and a half?” she pressed, ignoring his comment.
“Again, too much,” Shane said.
“Whatcha going to do with all that scratch?”
A small smile passed across Shane’s face, the result of years of back-and-forth. There was no use trying to hide anything from her, in trying to steer a conversation anywhere but where she wanted it to go. He sighed, twisting his head to the side.
“The first two payments went to 3C and Columbus General, squaring all medical bills for Prescott and Heath. The next two went to him and Abby, paying them for their time, a nice bonus included for their troubles.”
Christine rolled her head back to face forward, a bemused smile on her face.
“You’re such a softy. You’d never survive a day in business.”
“The next check went to Shady Lane, offering them a nice little incentive to take Molly off my hands.”
Christine pursed her lips out, nodding in approval. “Nice move. I’m guessing that works out well for the both of you?”
“I’m not sad about it, if that’s what you’re asking,” Shane said, his voice monotone, his eyes watching as a luxury liner’s front wheels rose from the ground, dragging its back end into the sky at a thirty degree angle. He fell silent as he watched it climb, his gaze tracking it until it disappeared above the window.
“Well Mr. Big Spender, dare I ask if you spent a cent on yourself?”
“I bought a plane ticket,” Shane said. He rolled his head to the side and stared over at Christine, for the first time noticing the shoulder bag on the seat beside her. He ran his eyes the length of her body, taking in the t-shirt, jeans, flip flops she was wearing.
“Speaking of which, how did you get back here? Shouldn’t you be at work right now?”
A loud snort rolled from Christine, pushing so much breath out that it rocked her head back against the seat. “Weren’t you the one that just a few days ago told me I needed to take a vacation?”
A smile rose to Shane’s face, his eyes locked on hers. “I do seem to remember someone telling me that traveling alone is terrible.”
“Sounds like a smart lady,” Christine said, raising her eyebrows. “You should grab her, go get into an adventure together.”
Shane rolled his head back to face forward, his gaze focusing on the next jet rolling down the runway.
“Sounds like a plan. Any idea where to?”
Christine turned and focused on the jet as well, picking up speed as it moved forward over the asphalt, its hull rising up into the air.
“Does it even matter?”
Acknowledgements
There are two quick points that should be made about Catastrophic. First, Ohio Tech is in no way a stand-in for Ohio State in this story. I wanted the story to be set in the football-crazed rust belt I grew up in to add gravitas to the tale, so I invented a college and put it in the most football crazy place I’ve ever known. A compliment, all things considered.
Second, I am aware that I cut a few small corners on the legal/courtroom aspects of this novel (namely the timeline). This was deliberate. For as entertaining as the legal field can at times be, it can also be a bit slow and monotonous. I just chose to cut those aspects out.
About the Author
Dustin Stevens is the author of twelve novels, including The Zoo Crew series, Just a Game, 21 Hours, and Liberation Day. He is also the author of several short stories, appearing in various magazines and anthologies.
He currently resides in Honolulu, Hawaii.
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