“You can keep the money, that’s fine, that is fine with me,” she said. The more she repeated the word, the less I believed her, and I was right: “Although technically I’ve been working for weeks, so maybe we could come up with some sort of pro-rated— But all I’m saying is that I’m not doing it anymore. And that’s final. Nothing you can say would convince me. Nothing. Zilch. That is all I’m saying. I mean it.”

Mistake one: never speak first.

I folded my hands at my desk and watched her. She was breathing hard—emotional—no doubt scared of what I would say. Which meant I still had some power over her. That was good to know. The threat of the Lady’s forced retirement beat in my head like a second heart, but I kept my face as blank as I could.

“You know, you said to me, two, three weeks tops. You made it sound like it was going to be a lot of fun, like I’d be getting to play dress-up and having great sex and eating fancy dinners and . . .”

My patience was a very dry well. What was dinner and dress-up compared with bringing Hollywood’s richest scumbag to his knees? “He hasn’t been feeding you? He hasn’t made you feel real pretty?” Easy, Jo. You need her more than she realizes.

“Do you know what it’s like, having to fuck that old man? And then he hits me,” she said, as if I didn’t know. “I’m not doing it again. The way he looks at me. God.” She raised a hand to her cheek—the outline from the afternoon before had faded, but I was willing to bet it was still tender. She bit her lip and sucked on her teeth. I remembered she was trying to make it as an actress in this town. Well, who wasn’t.

“Okay,” I said.

Ellen was working up a good cry, her dark eyes glistening and slick. She was so shocked, she choked mid-sniffle and gaped at me. Now she didn’t know what to do with all that effort.

Mistake number two: tears worked on men; they were wasted on me.

“What? What did you say?”

“I said okay. It’s been a tough case. We fucked up. We promised you a schedule, and you’ve kept up your side of the bargain. We didn’t. Tough shit for me, but that’s the way it goes sometimes.” I even worked up a smile for her, gnashing my teeth together.

“Really?” Ellen exhaled, and her shoulders dropped about a foot from her ears to her knees. She beamed a beatific smile of relief in my direction, like the Virgin Mary successfully pleading a headache to the Holy Spirit.