Chapter 43 Georgina
GEORGINA
“Ican’t believe how good this is,” I say, eating another mouthful of Amalia’s amazing soup.
“It’s my all-time favorite,” Reed says. “The word ‘soup’ doesn’t do it justice.”
We’re sitting across from each other at Reed’s small kitchen table.
I’m wearing a tank top and a pair of soft shorts.
Reed is shirtless and in sweats, looking like a god.
And for the past twenty minutes or so, I’ve been peppering him with follow-up questions about what Leonard told me at his office today.
I’ve asked my questions out of genuine curiosity.
But also, they’ve been my way of easing into asking Reed about an even greater topic of interest: the lawsuits I got earlier today at the courthouse.
Thus far, I’ve read two out of the three lawsuits the court clerk copied for me.
I ran out of time to read the third, before it was time to head back to Reed’s house.
But what I’ve read so far in the first two lawsuits has raised some serious questions for me.
Well, actually, not the first one involving a lease dispute.
That one was a total snoozefest, as expected.
But the second lawsuit, the one filed eight years ago by a former employee of River Records claiming sexual harassment and wrongful termination? Yeah, I’ve got some burning questions about that one. All of which I plan to ask Reed about during this meal. Just as soon as I muster the courage.
In her lawsuit, Stephanie claimed Reed pressured her into having a sexual relationship for several months, and then fired her when she refused to continue. Which means, if her claims were true, then Reed was, and is, an asshole of epic proportions. A dirtbag who’d shamelessly abuse his power.
But Stephanie’s version of Reed doesn’t ring true to me.
Yes, he’s harsh at times. And arrogant. But the kind of boss who’d force an employee into a sexual relationship?
Reed himself told me he never has sex with his employees.
Also, when I toured River Records with Owen, back when Reed was still in New York, it was clear to me everyone on Reed’s staff, including a bunch of women, respect their boss.
Yes, they said he’s exacting and tough and pulls no punches.
Yes, one person laughingly said Reed can flash-freeze a room with one withering glare.
But it was obvious to me they all admire their fearless leader, and would follow him to the ends of the earth.
I mean, I recognize I might not be the best person to accurately assess Reed on this topic, since the man started hitting on me the second he saw me. But he’s not my boss. And, in fact, expressly told me he wouldn’t have agreed to the special edition if it meant he would be.
Plus, I’ve never felt taken advantage of by Reed, even when we’ve gone toe to toe.
For instance, backstage at the RCR show, when we were engaged in hard-nosed “negotiations,” Reed stopped me several times, when I made a misstep, to tell me I’d said the wrong thing—basically, to give me a free pass—because he knew he’s got far more experience at negotiations than I do.
Frankly, if it weren’t for the fact that Reed settled Stephanie’s case, and has told me his philosophy regarding settlements, I’d be thinking Stephanie’s complaint was almost certainly a pack of lies, every bit as much as the copyright infringement lawsuit against Red Card Riot.
But Reed did settle it. And Reed did tell me he only settles cases when they’ve got merit, or he thinks a jury will believe it.
The bottom line? I’m dying to ask Reed what the hell happened between him and Stephanie Moreland.
Will Stephanie’s lawsuit make it into my article?
It’s unlikely. But, either way, Reed is the man I’ve been sleeping with.
The man I’ve been swooning over. Feeling addicted to.
The man who gives me butterflies like crazy.
If it turns out he’s an asshole who’d force an employee into a sexual relationship, then, regardless of my article, I want to know about it.
I eat the last spoonful of my soup and push my empty bowl to the side.
“Would you like another bowl?” Reed asks.
“No, I’m good.”
“Another beer?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Reed gets up and heads to the stove with his empty bowl.
“So, I did something kind of clever today,” I say.
“Oh, yeah?”
“After you said I wouldn’t believe it if I saw the list of lawsuits you’ve had to deal with over the past ten years, I popped over to the courthouse to see for myself.”
It’s a little white lie. In truth, I’d already had the printout when Reed made that specific comment this afternoon. But Reed already thinks I’m freaking Bobby Fischer, and I don’t want to give him more reasons to think that. Let him think I’m smart and sneaky, sure, but not that smart and sneaky.
Reed returns to the table, puts down his refilled bowl, and hands me a beer bottle. “And? The list is as thick as a phone book, right?”
“Well, I’ve never actually seen a phone book, but I get your meaning. Yes, it was crazy-thick. I don’t know how you sleep at night with so many people gunning for you, claiming you’ve done them dirty.”
Reed takes a swig of his beer and shrugs. “Getting sued is one of the costs of doing business, especially in California. I don’t take it personally.”
“I was amazed at how many different kinds of lawsuits there were,” I say, my pulse quickening. I’m circling the runway, getting ready to land. “There was everything from personal injury to breach of lease to copyright infringement to wrongful termination.”
I watch him closely at those last words... but he doesn’t flinch. Indeed, he smoothly takes a bite of food, as relaxed as ever.
“I’ve got a great team of lawyers,” he says. He swigs his beer. “Also, I rest easy knowing almost all of it is total bullshit. The truth shall prevail, right? And if not, then I pay what needs to be paid, and move on.”
My breathing hitches. Does that mean Stephanie’s lawsuit was the truth? But I don’t have the courage to land the plane yet. I’m still circling like a coward. “The printout noted you’d settled a lease dispute?”
He takes another bite of food. “Yeah. That was years ago. At my very first office space, I’d stupidly signed for way too long a lease period, thinking my business would expand much more slowly than it did.”
At my urging, he tells me about the case.
And, as expected, it’s a big ol’ nothing-burger.
In summary, Reed’s business blew up like crazy, way faster than he thought it would, and the space he’d been renting became way too small for his operations.
So, he vacated that space, in order to rent a much bigger one—the one he’s in now, actually—thereby breaching his lease.
“I never denied I’d broken the lease,” Reed says. “I told the landlord I was willing to pay him what I owed him. But he wanted to gouge me. So I said, ‘Here’s what I rightfully owe you. Sue me for the rest, motherfucker.’ And he did.”
“And?” I say. “Did the guy get everything he’d wanted in the settlement?”
“No. Not even close.”
“Was it all worth it in the end?” I ask, still trying to figure out how to broach the topic of Stephanie Moreland.
Reed’s eyes light up. “Oh, God, yes. I had to act fast when the space I’m in now became available.
It was the exact one I used to drive by in college and dream of occupying one day.
Every day I get to walk into my lobby at River Records, every day I get to see my name above the door on that particular office space, every day I get to see all those framed gold and platinum and diamond records on those walls, I feel like I’ve made all my dreams come true. ”
Goosebumps erupt on my arms. Not only about what Reed just said, but how lit up he looked while saying it. “Hold that thought,” I say, grabbing my phone. “I’ve got to make some notes. You just gave me goosebumps.”
He laughs. “Knock yourself out, Intrepid Reporter.”
I make a bunch of notes. Ask him to repeat a few things. And when I finally put down my phone and look up, I find Reed smiling broadly at me.
“What?” I ask.
He bites back his smile. “Nothing.”
“Why were you smiling like that?”
“If I tell you, are you going to get angry?”
“It depends what you say.”
“Are you going to flip me off?”
“No. I’ll refrain, no matter what you say.”
Again, he bites back a smile. “I just find you incredibly entertaining. And adorable. And, yes, amusing. And sexy. And smart. And, on occasion, all of that just makes it impossible for me not to smile.”
I return his wide, beaming, beautiful smile. “Oh.”
“Does any of that make you want to punch me in the face?”
“No. It makes me want to kiss you.”
He laughs. “Progress.”
“I’d say so.”
I take a sip of beer. Shit. If I don’t ask about this now, the moment will pass and I’ll fall hopelessly under his spell again. It’s now or never.
“So, one of the lawsuits on the printout caught my eye, in particular.” I take a deep breath. “One you settled. The case was filed by a woman named Stephanie Moreland. She said you sexually harassed and wrongfully terminated her.”
Boom.
Reed’s demeanor changes. His jaw sets. His posture stiffens. And I know, without a doubt, I’ve stumbled upon something Reed doesn’t want to talk about.