THE HOT lawyer's

Part 33

Lisa

Once I had Jennie back at my house, making her as comfortable as possible in my bed with a bottle of wine and a glass of water next to her—whichever she needed most—I got in my car and drove straight to the studio.

Fuck calling.

I needed Ted's fucking head in my hands, and a conversation over the phone with the studio's CEO wasn't going to give me that satisfaction.

I was only a mile past my driveway when I phoned my assistant. Once she answered, I ordered, "I need Bobby and my brothers on a conference call immediately. I don't care if they're in meetings; haul their asses out."

"Give me two seconds. I'm just going to put you on hold while I call them."

I was driving double the speed limit, barely braking around turns, running yellows that changed to red.

"Lisa," my assistant said through my car speakers, "I have them all on the line. I'm going to connect you now."

I heard the click and said, "Bobby? Ten and Chan?" When they confirmed, I continued, "I know you all have seen the alert. I've gotten your voice mails and texts. It's easier to have this conversation all together."

"Jesus, Sister. I pity the fucking asshole who's about to get the wrath of you," Chan said. "What do you know so far?"

"First, it goes without saying that it's me in the photographs."

"Never questioned it," Ten said. "I just want to know who the fuck I'm about to sue."

I slowed down at the next red light, my foot feeling heavy enough to run it. "I was only at Jennie's place once—the day before she started filming. We stopped by, so she could change her clothes before we went to brunch, and the obvious happened. The contract was clear—I'd read it with my own goddamn eyes—and the cameras weren't supposed to be on until filming began."

"That's correct," Bobby said. "I read the same verbiage."

"Then, how the fuck did this happen?" Ten asked.

"I'd like to know the same thing," Bobby replied.

"I'm going to tie up that studio in so much legal, that show is going to sit on a hard drive, collecting twelve inches of fucking dust."

"Should I start the proceedings?" Ten asked.

I blew through the next yellow, turning onto the street where the studio's executive offices were located. "Not yet. I'm headed there now for answers. I'm bypassing Shane—that motherfucker can't give me what I want—and I'm going straight to Ted."

"Going right for the big dog—I like your style," Ten said. "But be prepared. I'm sure their legal counsel is on his way there as well. They don't want litigation or their name tied to this. If they're responsible for the leak, they're going to offer a private settlement before this goes to court—I can promise you that. And they're going to do it quickly; they don't want anything or anyone delaying the airing of this show."

I laughed. "It's far too fucking late for that."

"Do you want me to meet you over there?" Bobby asked.

"I'm not dragging you into this," I responded.

"What do you think happened?" Chan asked. "Do you think it's to garner attention for the show? Or something else?"

Since I'd read the alert and viewed the photographs, that question had been fucking eating at me.

I had theories, but I needed proof.

"I don't know," I told them. "But you bet your ass I'm going to find out. I'll call you once I leave the studio."

"We're on standby," Ten said.