THE HOT lawyer's

Part 27

Jennie

Lisa returned to the grill to finish cooking our dinner, leaving me on the lounge chair with a tornado of thoughts in my head. Most of them picturing Irene in her giant house, alone, drowning in her avalanche that seemed to be gaining more momentum each day.

Maybe I really did need to reach out, to try and find a way to be there for her. It was too late to even consider leaving the show—I was under contract, and it was ironclad. My first endorsement had come in, the deal signed, and Bobby had emailed the details of another one, which had been sent to Lisa this morning for her to review.

Was it too late to stop it all just to please my sister?

Did I even want to?

And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, it did the moment my phone vibrated from my back pocket.

Irene: You're ruining my whole life. I hope you're fucking happy. And I hope you're fucking proud of yourself.

My entire body shook as I read her text, my heart pounding as though I'd been running.

I glanced at Lisa. She was standing at the grill, flipping the meat, so I turned my attention to my phone, fingers hovering above the screen.

She was so angry, and it was my fault.

Somehow, I had to make this better.

Me: I'm not happy. I'm not even close to happy. It kills me to know that things are going wrong in your life. I love you, Irene. Let's talk and air everything out.

Irene: You mean, you'd step down from your high horse and meet with little ol' me? Never.

Me: You know it's not like that. You know I would do anything for you.

Irene: I asked you not to do the show, so that's a lie—you wouldn't do anything for me. What else have you lied to me about? Oh, let's see. 1. Your desire to get into acting. 2. Your attraction to Kai. 3. Your attraction to my attorney. I could keep going, but my fingers are getting tired of typing.

Me: Now, you're just being catty.

Daisy: Six weeks since you moved to LA and you've already destroyed my life. SIX FUCKING WEEKS. Go fuck yourself, Jennie.

"Hey ..."

I looked up, and Lisa was standing in front of the chair, the meat on one platter, the vegetables on another.

"You're texting her, aren't you?"

I took a big, deep breath, slipping the phone back into my pocket. "How could you tell?"

"Your expression. It's also telling me the conversation didn't go well."

I tried to find my breath, stopping the tremors from racking my body. "She told me to go fuck myself."

Her jaw flexed as she ground her teeth together.

I would never take for granted how protective she was. It was one of the traits I loved most about her.

"Fuck her. Everything she's saying is bullshit—you know this. So, stop focusing on Irene and what you can do to repair things. It takes two, Jennie, and she's made no effort. Instead, all she's done is blame you for everything." She nodded toward the house. "Tonight is about us, not her."

She was right.

I couldn't sit here and dwell on something I had no control over. When Irene was finally able to see that she wasn't the innocent party in this mess, maybe that was when things would change between us. Until then, we'd just have to continue with the way things were.