Chapter 22
Nobody could have anticipated the mess that came with Cynthia’s call with Baxter, the entertainment lawyer. Cynthia had called Amanda to say, “Baxter’s on the case! It should be over soon.” Amanda had floated through the rest of the afternoon like a flower petal on a breeze. As originally planned, she would return to work when Genevieve was three months old. This would be just a hiccup. A brief reminder that she couldn’t let anyone “powerful” make her afraid.
But by that evening, everything changed again. Susan appeared at the front door of Amanda and Sam’s house. Her face was the color of marshmallow. “I need to talk to you,” she said as she entered and tugged her hair into a high ponytail.
Susan sat at the kitchen table as Amanda remained standing so that she could bob around and put Genevieve back to sleep. The scene was comical with a clown and a lawyer in the kitchen.
“We have to go to court,” Susan said.
Amanda’s heart thumped. She had a hunch who was behind this, but she didn’t want to believe it.
Susan’s eyes flickered. “They’re going after the entire agency now. They could take away my license and Bruce’s.”
Amanda’s jaw dropped. “No!”
“They said something about us ‘escalating the issue and dragging their name,’” Susan said.
Amanda swallowed, remembering Cynthia’s call. “My friend tried to fix this,” she said. “She knows people who know people…”
Susan rubbed her eyes and brought away her fingers, which were covered with black eyeliner. “Oh.”
Amanda’s stomach tied into knots. But this wasn’t her fault, she reminded herself. And it wasn’t Cynthia’s either.
“It doesn’t matter.” Susan sighed. “We’re going to fight them, and we’re going to win. I don’t know a single judge who would look at our case and rule in favor of the Arnouts.”
But Amanda wasn’t so sure. “They’ve already done so much damage. What makes you think they don’t have all the judges around here in their pocket, too?”
Susan’s chin quivered. Amanda considered throwing her career under the bus in order to save her mother’s. Amanda was still young. She could still find something else to do. Something to hang her life’s meaning upon. Probably.
“Let’s take it one day at a time,” Susan suggested. She eyed Genevieve and softened. “Do you feel up to heading to court mid-June? Bruce and I are throwing ourselves into the case, but we need you to be involved. You’ll need to make a statement. I might even want you up on the stand.”
“I’ll do anything,” Amanda said. Mid-June was still about a month away. Genevieve would grow and change exponentially by then. Summer would nearly unfurl.