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We chuckle.
"Close, but no," Nolan says. "Remember little Kyra Masterson?"
Greyson's jaw drops. "No."
"Yes," I say. "Unfortunately. I can't see why Nolan thinks this is a good thing."
Nolan's glare flicks to me, outraged. "You told me yourself that you could win her over if you wanted to."
"That was before she overhead me telling you that, then told me she hated me and that she'd rather drink bleach than go out with me again."
"Drink bleach." Emerson winces. "Ooh."
"Ooh is right," I say. "So yeah, that's not happening."
"We should just try to win the case fair and square," Greyson says. "We aren't like Dad."
Nolan takes his drink and downs it. "Nothing wrong with using every advantage available to us. Although in this case, yeah, looks like there's a grand total of none."
I roll my eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." My glance goes to the others. "Anyone else have any ideas?"
"Yeah." Nolan's all smiles. "Don't piss off Kyra. Pray and beg for mercy."
"Too late," I say. "Seriously, after overhearing our conversation, she verbally ripped me a new one. If she didn't hate me before, she most definitely does now."
"Well, at least she's hot," Nolan says blandly.
Greyson snorts. "Thank God for that. We may lose the case, and even our main source of profit right now, but at least the lawyer responsible for it is hot."
Already, her face is creeping into my mind, mad and hot, with those arched eyebrows curved into a V, lips red pouting and ready and -
"Hello? Earth to twin?" Nolan intones.
I come to, to find a waitress waiting, all eyes on me.
"Sorry," I say. "What's up?"
"Emerson is buying us pity drinks," Nolan says. "Want one?"
"Sure," I say.
At this point, the only thing we really can do is drink and hope for the best.
Although once the drinks come and I sip mine, I get another brain wave. "Why don't we look into it ourselves?"
"Isn't that what the lawyers are for?" Emerson asks, sipping at his.
"Yes, except we can't afford to pay them 24/7," I explain. "We need to be saving as much money as we can, especially with the profits of our new TV series on the line. If we look into it ourselves, however..."
"Dibs on not doing it," Nolan says.
I glare at him while he assumes an unconvincing innocent expression. "What? You know how I am with research. I pass out, fall asleep, die a premature death."
"I can help," Greyson says. "Although I'll have to check with Harley as to when. She's been with Dakota almost 24/7 lately - she's more than overdue for a little break."
"I can too," Emerson says, trying to smile reassuringly but only succeeding in looking less-than-eager. "But where do we start?"
"We start with looking at the claim Goldtree submitted," I say. "And looking into the company itself. See if Dad met with them at any point, had any connections who worked there, etc. I mean, if he plagiarized from them, then he had to have met or talked with someone who worked there at some point."
Greyson nods, eyeing his drink thoughtfully. "True." He rises. "I'm going to compile a list of Goldtree's top employees, or at least the ones involved in their broadcasting division."
I rise. "I appreciate your involvement, but don't you think I should be doing that?"
"No," he says. "You have more important things to be focusing on."
As soon as he says it, I realize I've missed the obvious. "Right - Dad's close friends and business associates. I'll have Madeline compile a list of them and call them up myself. They could've heard something about this Goldtree TV show if it was a big enough deal, or even know something more specific."
"Will they really jump at admitting anything that could implicate Dad in plagiarism?" Nolan wonders aloud.
"Not the way I'll put it," I say. "We can decide what to do with the information once we have it, but I'll promise them we're going to protect Dad at all costs."
"You mean you're going to lie," Nolan says helpfully.
"No." I sit back down. "I mean that I'm going to do what I have to do. Keeping Storm Media out of trouble might mean protecting Dad, unfortunately. We need to know the truth if we're going to figure out what to do with it.
"At any rate, it's a start," I add.
Nolan lifts his glass. "Well, I'll drink to that."
Chapter 4
Kyra
God, I love winning.
The feeling when you're at the precipice of a big case, one second away from everything being worth it. I even love the times like now, when you can feel yourself inching towards that moment inexorably, unavoidably.
"That's all for today," I say, smiling wide at the rheumy-eyed judge, then at Landon, who looks pissed enough to storm out on the spot. "The evidence speaks for itself."
The judge rubs at the white tuft on his chin contemplatively. "It would appear so. Court dismissed for today."
