How had I missed this?
A crack of instant dread had my lungs going cold, my lips and fingers tingling, feeling fuzzy and thick.
I clicked it. Skimmed the opening. Then froze.
The station was suing me?
I blinked, scrolled back up, and started reading from the top. Breach of contract?
For what? Leo was the one who’d blown everything up—on and off camera.
I was just the one who’d walked away, the one who’d been humiliated.
My heart thudded in my chest.
Unauthorized public commentary. Damage to brand. Violation of image clause.
I read faster. How could they sue me? Leo was the one who’d cheated on me! I’d gracefully bowed out.
Well. Maybe not gracefully.
But I’d left him with the set. Our logo. The timeslot. I was the one who’d been pushed out.
But there it was, in black and white. Some kind of clause violation. But also… Unauthorized public commentary? Damage to brand?
I’d damaged it, but I’d also been the one who’d started it all, who’d built it up over the years.
And now they were coming after me?
A dull roar started in my ears. I wasn’t just angry, I was stunned. And…a little sick. They’d sent this ten days ago!
My hands shaking, I closed out of the email and called Ashley.
She picked up immediately, and before she began asking about my love life, I gave her a brief rundown of what was going on. “It was one episode, Ashley. Why are they doing this?”
But then…silence on the other end. And with Ashley, silence rarely meant anything good.
“So, you ignored…all of Leo’s calls?”
“Well…yeah.”
“And you haven’t gone on Facebook lately?” she asked.
“I posted a few shots on Instagram, but other than that…no.”
“Well, you might want to check the show’s Facebook page.”
Seriously? So, I actually should have listened to Leo’s stupid voicemails? I’d thought I was doing the healthy thing by stepping back and giving myself space from him and from the social media stuff too! “What’s going on?”
“I didn’t want to ruin your trip,” my sister said quickly. “And really, there’s nothing you can do until you’re home. Beckett has the number of a lawyer for you to call. Also...we picked your stuff up from the townhouse and brought it to Mom’s.”
I blinked. “My stuff?” At mom’s?
“Your clothes, your kitchen stuff, some dead plants, your...you know. Your things. When you didn’t respond to Leo’s messages, he called me. Said he was renting the townhouse and that if someone didn’t grab your stuff this week, he was putting it out on the sidewalk. So yesterday, Beckett and I drove down to Newport. It was all boxed up—I think we got everything.”
“But...why would he?—?”
“Also, he changed the locks while we were there.”
