“Hey, babe. What’s up?”
“Check your inbox,” I say, skipping the pleasantries.
I hear him typing, then a pause as he reads.
“Oh, wow,” he finally says, followed by a laugh. “This is about that page you’ve been doing?”
“Yes!” I snap, tapping my foot impatiently. The clock on the wall reminds me that I’m about to be late for my cleaning shift at the hotel all the way in New York City. And since I’m taking the train today to save money on gas, I can’t afford to waste any more time.
I tuck the phone under my ear while yanking on my uniform.
“Can you believe this? How rude! There are loads of people online giving advice and that’s all I’m doing. Plus, I never mentioned Madison or Matt, or their company directly.”
He chuckles warmly. “Your posts are pretty straight forward, but I’ll look at your page again. I wouldn’t stress too much; this sounds like a simple scare tactic. To win a defamation case, they’d need to prove the statement was false, made to a third party, and caused actual harm. If they’re considered public figures, they’d also have to prove malice. And you’ve never used their names?”
“Never,” I say, slipping my all-black sneakers on and tossing my back over my shoulder.
“Exactly. You’ve kept everything general. Your posts are clearly opinion-based, and opinions aren’t defamatory. This is a baseless attempt to intimidate you. I’ll text you in a bit after I review everything more carefully, but honestly? I wouldn’t lose sleep over this. I studied a few cases like this in law school, and they usually have a tough time holding up in court.”
I sigh heavily, my shoulders slumping. “See, this is why I keep you on retainer.”
He snorts. “No, you don’t. In fact, you’ve never paid me a dime for my services. I should probably start collecting on that.”
“I’ve paid you back in good times and friendship.”
He laughs again.
“Thanks. I love you.” I grab my house keys, still fuming but slightly less panicked. The last thing my family needs is an expensive lawsuit over some harmless social media posts I made to show my little sister a different perspective on things.
“Love you too. I’ll handle this,” he reassures me.
I hang up the phone and step outside, locking the front door behind me. The late afternoon air bites at my cheeks as I head out, my stomach still in knots from the call.
During the short walk to the train station, I scroll through my posts, each caption, each comment, each harmless take I’ve ever shared.
I never attacked Madison or Matt. Hell, I never even mentioned their names. I have nothing against them, or at least I didn’t, until they threatened to sue me. But if they’re really going to push this, then maybe that’s about to change.
The accusations gnaw at me. I open my email app and start typing a response to their lawyer, my fingers flying with all the things I want to say. Then I remember Leo’s warning:Don’t engage. Don’t respond. Make them do the work to take this to court. They may not if you just ignore it.
With a sigh, I delete the draft and shove my phone into my bag.
The train hums beneath me as I head into the city, the rhythm oddly calming. I watch the landscape change from the quiet, small-town suburbs that I love, to the blur of high-rises and billboards, and for the first time all day, I manage to stop thinking about the bloggers and their ridiculous lawsuit and instead focus on all the good that I have in my very chaotic, busy life.
By the time I get home that night, after hours of scrubbing toilets and polishing marble countertops that cost more than my entire life, I’m bone-tired and ready to fall asleep.
I peel off my uniform, pull on a pair of old sweatpants overtop Cain’s boxers, and collapse onto the couch. My body aches, but my mind’s already running through next week’s meal plan, grocery lists and the stack of bills on the kitchen table that Gabriel and I still need to go through.
When I shift, I catch the faintest whiff of Cain’s cologne, and it yanks me straight back to that night I snuck out of the Hartford Hotel one month ago. I can’t help the smile that creeps in. Damn, I had fun with him.
He told me not to sneak out again, sure, but there was no reason to stick around. Neither of us wanted anything more. Besides, the man sleeps like the dead after sex. There was zero chance he’d wake up, zero chance we’d bump into each other ever again.
That’s all we’ll ever be. A memory. Two night stands and the pair of lucky boxers I still wear to bed every night. Maybe they’ll grant me some much-needed success for this lawsuit.
When my phone buzzes, I grab it, half-expecting another notification that’ll ruin my night. Instead, I see Leo’s name pop up and instantly relax.
Leo:Don’t worry. They don’t have a case. They’re just trying to scare you.
A slow, relieved smile spreads across my face as I answer.
