“You damn near broke the bartender’s nose!”
“Wait—what?”
“Girl, you assaulted at least five people, you damaged commercial property, you—”
“No—that’s NOT what happened!”
I try to think back to the night before, but it’s a blur. I remember being picked up by Alistair. I remember Derek’s handsome smile as he greeted us when we entered the club. I remember my friend Eva in the audacious pink dress. There were lights.
I look down at myself and realize I’m in a bright orange jumpsuit. I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from my brain, but it’s a struggle to even think.
“Miss Carter, I think it’s best that I take you to see yer lawyer. We can forget about you biting me if you can just chill the fuck out.”
“I’m so sorry! I couldn’t have done those things, though. You see, I don’t remember anything.”
“Yeah, that’s because you were hammered.”
“But-but, don’t you see, it’s not me. It can’t be me.”
“Oh, I think Saint Cloud’s security cameras and the dozens of eyewitnesses will say otherwise.”
“You’re lying! It’s what cops do to get people to break.”
The jailer spikes a brow. “Miss Carter, I have been trying to get you to see yer lawyer since I came into this room. Now, if you could please comply, you won’t have additional charges brought up against you.”
Additional charges?
Tears pour down my cheeks as guttural sobs emanate from my throat. Going to prison would cost me everything. I have thirteen blockbuster movies under my belt, another set to release, two films still in the making, and three projects lined up. Any amount of prison time would interfere with my work. Furthermore, it could make me uninsurable, and turn public opinion against me. I’ve made my living by being America’s Sweetheart, and bar fights don’t bode well for my image. I could go from A-List to D-List in the blink of an eye.
“There, there, babydoll, let’s go get you to your lawyer.”
“You-you believe me, right? That I’m innocent?”
“Heck—no! I saw you on that video feed!”
“You did? Already?”
“It done made it to YouTube.”
Oh, no!
My hands begin to tremble, and for a moment, I don’t know if my legs are going to give out.
“Look, I know this is scary, but people like you, with money, often just snap their fingers and it all goes away. Trust me, I’ve been doing this job a long time. People that have done far worse than you got off with barely a hand-slap.”
“You-you-you don’t understand,” I say between sniffles.
“You think I don’t understand? My daughter got a DUI three months ago, and she was barely above the legal limit. The only reason she was driving at all is that she was trying to escape a dangerous situation. Now, I have thousands of dollars in legal fees, and she might not get to drive for…I don’t know. Be happy you can afford that fancy lawyer you got waiting for you. Look around. Do you think we give private rooms to just anyone who comes in here? No, they go in the fish tank. Yer already getting special treatment. You’ll be fine.”
Her words hit me hard, as I’m sure she intended them to.
“Let’s get you to that lawyer of yours. Cute fellow. Goes by the name of Caleb Conway. He got that fancy Esquire after his name. Do you think he’s single?”
“He’s single, but he’s also gay. So, I don’t foresee that working out for you.”
“Figures.”
