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Just then, a woman strode through the door. She was tall, in a black suit and what had to be four-inch heels. “Hi,” she said, looking at both of us and raising an eyebrow. “I’m C.J.”
CHAPTER 9 Sunday
10:05 P.M.
I hadn’t known what to expect from a rock star’s lawyer, but I had not expected C.J. First of all, I’d expected her to be a he, which I was retroactively ashamed of.
Internalized misogyny is a real thing, Didi sighed. It’s something we could all work on.
C.J. was all business, and seemed to speak faster than most people, her words coming out at a rapid clip. She’d walked right over to the table and started pulling documents and a laptop out of her bag, talking over Russell, who was trying to make introductions.
“Not necessary. I assumed you were Darcy,” she said, giving me a curt nod. “How are you?” But she didn’t wait for my answer, just took a seat at the head of the table and took out a phone, already starting to dial it.
“Well—I’m sorry to ruin your night, C.J.,” Russell said, the tips of his ears turning red. “I hope you didn’t have plans.”
She waved this off. “The thing about anniversaries is that you have them every year,” she said, and I saw Russell’s eyes widen in dismay. She placed her phone in the center of the bus-table, right on the A in Starline. “We’re just waiting for my assistant to get on; she’ll be taking notes.”
Russell frowned. “Why?”
“Just so that we can all be on the same page,” C.J. said smoothly. “So that there’s no confusion later… Sarah, are you on?”
“Here,” the same voice I’d heard on the phone outside the Silver Standard piped up. “How is everyone?”
“I feel terrible about all this,” Russell said, glancing down at his watch. “It’s after ten—I’m so sorry to ruin your night.”
“It’s not ten,” C.J. said, sliding on an oversize pair of glasses. “It’s after one Sarah’s time. She’s in my New York office.”
“Oh no,” Russell said, looking horrified.
“It’s fine!” Sarah said through the phone, her voice bright. “I made some coffee. It’s all good.”
“Babe?” a guy’s voice—sleepy and confused—sounded through the phone. “Who are you talking to?”
“Sorry,” Sarah said quickly. “That was just my partner. He’ll… go away now.”
C.J. rolled her eyes at the phone. “Well, take the call in the other room, Sarah.”
“Right!” Sarah said, her voice getting a little higher. “The other room! We totally have one of those. I’ll do that now.”
“Okay,” C.J. said, lifting a legal pad out of her pile of papers and looking from me to Russell. Even though she had a laptop out, I kind of liked to see legal pads being used by an actual lawyer. This was my first encounter with one who wasn’t on TV. “Let’s begin.”
Ten minutes later, we’d gone through all the hotel stuff, and I was hoping that this was getting close to wrapped up. I wasn’t tired yet—somehow—but my stomach was growling, and it seemed like a while ago that we’d eaten the tacos.
“So to recap,” C.J. said, tapping her pen on the legal pad, “You first entered the Silver Standard to use the restroom. Which isn’t trespassing, by the way—the lobby is open to the public, with no signage that the restrooms are for guests only. What you did next is dicier, but given that you didn’t refuse to leave and complied with all that was asked of you, in addition to offering to purchase a room—they’re not going to have much of a case.”
“Really?” Russell asked, relief sweeping over his face. “They’re not going to press charges?”
“Well,” C.J. said, giving a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t have a crystal ball. But I’d be very surprised. The Silver Standard is part of the Pinnacle hotel chain, and your dad has agreed to play three songs at their corporate retreat next month, as well as do an hour of meet-and-greets. So! Everyone is happy.” She paused for a second. “Well—maybe not your dad. But given what you’ve both told me, I think we’re in the clear, and you aren’t going to have to show up for a Nevada court date anytime soon.”
“That’s great!” Sarah said from the phone, speaking around a yawn.
“Sarah,” C.J. admonished.
“Right,” Sarah said. “I’ll get some more coffee.”
“Now,” C.J. said. She set aside her legal pad and opened up her laptop. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
“Oh,” I said, glancing over at Russell. Wasn’t that what we’d just been doing? “Um…”
