“Everything okay over here?” he asks. The dick has the gall to smile at me.
I watch Erin’s back, making sure she’s far enough away that she won’t hear our conversation. Then I lean in and pretty much growl my words at him.
“No, asshole, everything is not fine here. And I’d love to have a conversation with you about what a fucking scammer you are, but I can’t because you have an attorney and I can only talk to her.”
He’s still smiling. “I’d be happy to waive that rule so ye can get whatever ye have to say off yer chest.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not happy to wave it.” I give him a sour smile as I get off the barstool. “Because the things I’d want to say to you would probably get me dis-barred.” I pause for just another moment before leaving him at the bar. “Enjoy playing your little game, Michaél, because it’s almost over. And when it’s over, you’ll not only not get jack shit out of this bar, you’ll also be missing out on the best woman you will ever meet in your lifetime.”
I start to leave, but he grabs me by the hand, holding me back. “I’m not here to hurt her.”
I yank my hand out of his slimy grip. “Tell that to the girl whose heart you’ve broken.” I leave him standing there at the bar with his eyes storming over.
What a jerk. I shake my head in disgust as I walk to Erin’s office. He thinks he can just saunter in here and scare the shit out of my friend over some false and completely empty threats? I’ve got news for that asshole. He has another think coming. He is so going down. I’ve had enough, and I can see that Erin clearly has too. When I open her door, I find her sitting at her desk with her head in her arms, crying.
I shut and lock the door behind me. “Baby, please don’t cry.” I rush to her side and crouch down with my arm around her back. “It’s not as bad as you think it is, I promise.”
“Yes it is!” she wails into her arms. “It’s worse. Worse than I ever could have imagined.”
I rub her back and speak calmly. “Tell me. Tell me what’s so terrible that you hate me now.”
She lifts her head and graces me with a perfect view of her red-rimmed, swollen eyes and her boogery, runny nose. Even her cheeks look extra puffy. “He was just supposed to stay in Ireland, okay? Not come here. And not come here to destroy everything I’ve worked for!” She hiccups a couple times before she can continue. “He wakes up every day all cheery faced and happy-go-lucky and he works really hard and he gives suggestions all day long that sound stupid and then he somehow convinces me to try them out and what do you know?” She throws her hands up. “Everybody loves his ideas and they hate mine!” She drops her head into her arms and starts to cry again. “I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Of course you can. You’re Erin O’Neill, the strongest, toughest, smartest, cutest, Irish badass I’ve ever known.”
“I’m not tough.” Her cries peter out. Now she’s just being argumentative.
“Sure you are. Tough as nails.”
She lifts her head. “If I’m tough, how come I can’t say no to any of Michaél’s ideas?”
I shrug. “Maybe you don’t want to?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m hung up on his dick or something?”
I smile. This is more the Erin I know. “No, I don’t mean that. It’s been two weeks and you haven’t slept with him, right?”
“No! When would I have time? I work eighteen hours a day. The floor of this place has never been so clean. I even vacuumed the walls yesterday!”
“Excellent. You’re following the plan.” I stand up and lean on her desk, trying to get the circulation going in my legs again. “I think there might be a reason why you’re not arguing too much with Michaél’s ideas.”
“What is it?” she asks, wiping her nose off with a tissue she pulls from a box on her desk.
“Maybe you like his ideas.” I shrug again, trying to take the sting out of my revelation. “Maybe other people like them too because they’re good ones.”
She sighs long and loud and then takes a minute to wipe the smeared mascara out from under her eyes. “Well, the clientele has changed a bit, and it hasn’t been entirely for the worse.”
“Tell me about it.” I move over to sit in a chair across from her.
“Well, he took down some of the more Americanized Irish decor and replaced it with more authentic stuff.”
“I saw that drum thingy on the wall.”
She gives a half laugh. “He literally climbs up there two nights a week and takes it down to play. He always waits until the bar is full. Full of upwardly mobile types who like to run big tabs and order bottles of champagne. Now people are calling out to him by name, begging him to play. We have musicians coming from all over the place to join in. The word is getting round.”
I smile warmly. “That’s a good thing, right?”
She shakes her head sadly. “Sure, if we were partners. But we’re not. We’re enemies, remember?”
I frown at her. “I think you might have taken my advice a little too literally.”
She throws her tissue at me. “When my lawyer tells me to treat a man like the enemy, I do it. Am I to apologize now?”
“No, and don’t get all bitchy on me again. I’ve had about enough of that nonsense for one lifetime.”
“Sorry,” she mumbles, looking into her lap. “I’m just at my wit’s end. I don’t know what to do, save throwing the keys at him and telling him to just have fun with his new bar.”
I pull my chair in closer and lean in, lowering my voice just in case the asshole is at the door listening in. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I’ve done some research on the relevant case law.”
She shrugs, still not looking at me. “Okay…”
“It’s all in your favor, babe. All of it.” I’m not going to tell Erin this, but this is also part of the reason she hasn’t seen me in two weeks. I wanted to get the legal research done before I came, so I could bring news with me. I was finally released from the litigation team yesterday, and I spent the entire day at my computer looking up and reading cases for her situation.
She finally looks up and meets my eyes. “What’s that mean?”
“It means that he can say what he wants, but if he tries to bring a lawsuit against you for misrepresentation or any bullshit like that, it won’t work.” I smile so I can deliver the icing on my lawyerly cake. “And you haven’t even heard the best part.”
She smiles a tiny bit. “Well, don’t keep me waiting…”
“Our contract has an attorney-fee clause in it.” I grin like a giant clam. I am so the boss when it comes to this lawyering thing.
She frowns. “I don’t get it.”
I sigh loudly. “It means that if he brings a lawsuit and loses, he pays for all your fees and costs. All of them.”
“But you’re working pro boner.”
I shake my head. So pitiful. “Screw working pro boner. I’m going to bill you for everything and then just write it off if I have to, pay the bill on my own, whatever. Let me show his lawyer my potential bill along with the case law and she’ll tell him to back the fuck down in about two seconds.”
“Are you sure about that? Maybe she’s a real ball buster. Maybe she’ll tell him to go for my throat.”
“Not if she doesn’t want to get sued for malpractice, she won’t. The case law is crystal clear. I could try this with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back.”
Erin grabs another tissue out of the box and stares at me as she wipes her nose. “Are you sure about this?”
“Dead sure. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on. He had a duty to ask for what he wanted. Accounts, ledgers, tax returns, the works. What did he ask for? Nothing. The court doesn’t reward idiots, especially when they enter into business deals. Business deals are for business people. He wants to play businessman now? Too late. Too bad, so sad. He can hardly claim he was taken advantage of. He’s a frigging business owner himself!”