Richard skim-reads the pages. “Wonderful.” His eyes pause on the legal stamp at the end of the document. “How were you able to afford Goldstein, Smidch, and Vander? They’re a very expensive firm.”

I shrug. “My ex works there.”

A shadow crosses Richard’s face. “You’re still in contact with him?”

“No, not really. Let’s just say he owed me a favor.”

“He did this for you after you threw a plate of spaghetti over his head?”

“Gerard deserved the spaghetti, and he knows it.”

“But why would you even ask him after everything he did?”

“What’s the big deal?” Why is Richard getting so worked up? “We needed legal advice, and Gerard is a kickass lawyer. Plus, I wanted to see him again to see how it’d make me feel.”

Richard purses his lips. Seems like he’s dying to ask what my findings were, but knows he can’t without being inappropriate. Aha! The boss is British after all.

“So, when’s the interview?” Richard asks instead.

“Monday.”

“And you plan to make it go live on…?”

“The following Friday. I don’t want to give Rebecca Vanderbilt time to pull tricks out of her sleeve. No matter if we have the best disclaimer ever written.”

Richard sighs. “Then by next weekend, we’ll know if we still have a magazine or not.”

“About that. I wanted you to know how much I appreciate the trust you’re placing in me. I know this interview is causing you more than a headache and a few sleepless nights. And I can’t say enough how thankful I am you’re letting me run the story anyway. Even if it means facing a potential lawsuit…”

“Hey.” Richard finally cracks a smile. “We wouldn’t be a serious newspaper if we didn’t get a lawsuit every now and then. Walker, you have my complete trust.”

“Thank you, boss. I won’t let you down.”

Sixteen

Never Pick a Fight

Monday morning, at eight sharp, I’m shaking hands with the very woman I’m about to ruin. I’ve rehearsed every question several times with both Richard and Michael. Our financial expert has also agreed to write a complementary article to go with the interview. After a weekend spent obsessing over every little detail that could go wrong, I’m ready.

When the introductions are over, I inhale deeply and hand Rebecca Vanderbilt the disclaimer.

“If you could sign here, we can get started right away.”

“What’s this?” she snaps.

“Oh, only a disclaimer that allows us to air the interview. It’s standard procedure.”

I hold my breath as she scans the fine print. If she doesn’t sign this, I’m toast. I can’t ask her any of the burning questions.

Rebecca hands the document to her PA. “What do you think?”

The woman turns the pages with hawk-like eyes, and for the first time, I’m worried. Miss PA doesn’t look like a fool.

“Seems pretty standard, but I don’t think you should sign any document without a lawyer checking it first.” Then she stares up at me. “We can have our in-house attorney go over the disclaimer and send it back signed after the interview.”