Chapter 43
Legalese
“Why can’t they just write this stuff in English?
” Kate slumped back in her chair, her mind numb from hours of trying to decipher all the legalese in her contract.
Her eyes burned from staring at the screen, dry and gritty, and she blinked hard, trying to clear her vision.
Her shoulders ached with tension, tight knots of muscle that screamed for relief.
"You really think this could do it?" She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady as hope flickered at the edges of her exhaustion. The words came out rougher than she intended, her throat dry from hours of talking.
Kate's pulse quickened, the fog of exhaustion lifting slightly. "So they overstepped?"
"Massively." Deanna’s finger traced across her screen, following the contract language Kate could see mirrored on her own monitor.
"And that's not even the best part. See this language here?
'Upon Author's submission of documentation establishing clear ownership, Publisher shall promptly reinstate regular royalty payments.
' I sent them your copyright documentation three weeks ago.
They acknowledged receipt. They should have unfrozen your accounts immediately. "
"But they didn't." Kate's voice was flat, anger beginning to simmer beneath the exhaustion.
"No, they didn't. Instead, they doubled-down by canceling your contract.
Which brings us to Section 14—Material Breach.
" Deanna’s smile was sharp, predatory. "When a publisher fails to comply with any material obligation of the contract, including—and I quote—'timely payment of royalties or adherence to the limitations set forth in Section 10(b)', that's a material breach. "
Callie's eyes were wide on the screen. "And what happens when there's a material breach?"
"The author gets to send a Notice to Cure. The publisher has thirty days to fix it. If they don't..." Deanna paused, letting the moment build. "All rights automatically revert to the author. No negotiation. No buyout. Just... reversion."
Kate's hands trembled slightly as the implications sank in. “Deanna, when did you send the copyright documentation?"
"Twenty-three days ago."
“And the Notice to Cure—”
“Sent with it. It’s a standard form. They only have seven more days to unfreeze your accounts, pay all withheld royalties, and formally acknowledge they overstepped.
" Deanna’s expression softened. "Kate, honey, they're not going to do that.
They've already shown they have no intention of backing down.
Which means in seven days, you could own all your rights free and clear. "
"You really think this could do it?" Kate asked again, but this time the words carried weight, carried hope that felt almost dangerous to acknowledge.
"I do, but I would recommend a contract lawyer review it to be sure.
And it might be best if a lawyer handled any notification to the publisher as well.
It would put you in a stronger position than if you or I sent it.
" Deanna tapped a finger against her lips as she thought, the gesture familiar through countless Zoom calls over the years.
"I don't know anyone off the top of my head since Ryan retired, but I can make inquiries. "
Callie interrupted. "Kate, what about Nick? Can he help? He must have a million attorneys on staff with the size of his business or certainly would know one."
Kate’s brows shot up in surprise, and she fought off her instinctive negative response.
The old patterns ran deep—don’t ask for help, don’t be a burden, don’t expect anyone to care.
But Nick wasn’t just anyone, was he? He would want to help.
“Duh. Of course he does. Give me a minute to check if he’s available. ”
Kate stepped away from her desk, her legs stiff from sitting too long, and called him, hoping she wasn’t interrupting anything important. Her heart fluttered with nerves—the anxious, anticipatory feeling of a teenager with her first crush. He answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Beautiful. How are you this afternoon?” Nick purred warmly in her ear, rich and low, and Kate’s heart quivered in response, a now-familiar flip that happened every time she heard his voice.
“I’m great, actually. I have a question for you.” Kate hesitated, not sure how to proceed. The words stuck in her throat, years of conditioning making it hard to ask. She wasn’t comfortable asking for favors from anyone.
“Wait, can we switch to FaceTime? I’d rather see your gorgeous eyes when we talk.
” She melted at his words as she hit the button to switch over, her fingers unsteady, and melted even more when she met his eyes on the screen and saw the warmth and affection there.
His smile was soft, intimate, one that said she was the only person in his world right now.
“That’s better. Now, what’s your question? ”
Kate drew a deep breath, centering herself before continuing.
The air filled her lungs, steadying her racing pulse.
“Callie and I have been on a Zoom call with Deanna, my agent, for the past few hours. We’ve gone through every line of my publishing contract, and we think we might have found a way out of it, a way to get all my rights to my books back, so I could go elsewhere, or maybe self-publish. ”
Nick sat up straight, his expression shifting to one of focused intensity. “Kate, that’s wonderful! What can I do?”
The immediate offer, the eagerness to help without hesitation, made her chest tighten with emotion.
“I need an attorney to review it to make sure we are reading it right. Deanna's retired. Do you know a contract attorney who could review this for us? Preferably one that won’t cost my firstborn child?” Kate fought to keep her tone level, but she knew Nick’s intense gaze read all her hopes and fears plastered across her face.
“I can do better than that, especially since that firstborn child is going to be mine. I have several on staff who can handle it for you. I can have one call you in a minute.” Nick offered, his voice warm with promise.
Kate’s cheeks heated as she tried her best to ignore his child comment.
The blush spread down her neck, warmth flooding her skin, and she recognized the exact moment he noticed, his eyes darkening.
“Can I send you a Zoom link to forward? We’re still on, and Deanna could explain it better than I can. ”
“Absolutely. Send it over, and I’ll see who is available right now.
Hopefully, Maria is. You’d love her. She’s a spitfire and knows contract law inside and out.
She’s been my secret weapon for a few years now.
” Nick winked at her, the gesture playful and affectionate.
“Give me two minutes, and I’ll have someone on your Zoom call with you.
” He hung up the line, leaving Kate equally thrilled and anxious, her stomach doing nervous flips.
She returned to her desk, her body still humming with the warmth his voice sparked, to find broad grins on both Deanna and Callie’s faces.
“What’s up? You two look suspicious.” Kate narrowed her eyes at them as she sent the Zoom invite to Nick, though she couldn’t quite suppress her own smile.
“Oh, nothing. Callie was just catching me up on your new beau.” Deanna smirked at Kate, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “He sounds sexy as hell.” Callie bobbed her head in agreement, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.
Kate giggled, the sound bubbling up from her chest, genuine and light. “He is sexy as hell. Hopefully, you’ll both get to meet him soon. Oh, the attorney he mentioned, Maria, is in the waiting room.”
In seconds, the face of a lovely Latina woman appeared, brown eyes sparking with humor and interest.
"Hello, ladies. I'm Maria DeSoto. Nick tells me I have a new project. Please introduce yourselves and lay it on me. There is nothing I like better than a loophole hunt!"
Kate laughed, instantly at ease with the sassy woman.
The tension in her shoulders loosened, her body responding to Maria's infectious energy.
"Welcome to our project, then! Since Nick couldn't have had time to tell you much, let me give the introductions, and then I'll turn it over to Deanna.
I'm Kate. I'm an author and have been writing for fourteen years under the same publisher.
Callie is my personal assistant, and Deanna is my agent.
Deanna, would you tell Maria what's been going on, and what we might have found? "
Deanna dove in, her presentation crisp and organized despite the hours they'd already spent parsing contract language. As she explained the royalty freeze and the copyright documentation, Kate watched Maria's expression shift from polite interest to sharp attention.
"Wait, back up." Maria held up a hand, her eyes scanning something off-screen—probably the contract Deanna had just shared. "They froze all your titles? Not just the ones in dispute?"
"All of them," Kate confirmed, her stomach churning at the thought of seeing zeros in her royalty statement.
"And how long after receiving your copyright proof did they maintain the freeze?"
Deanna checked her notes. "Twenty-three days and counting."
Maria's laugh was short and sharp. "Oh, they're screwed.
Kate, do you have any idea how clear-cut this is?
Section 10(b) isn't ambiguous—it's actually one of the tighter suspension clauses I've seen.
'Solely to the disputed Work.' That's not lawyer-speak for 'whatever we feel like. ' That's specific limitation language."
"So we're reading it right?" Hope bloomed in Kate's chest, bright and almost painful.
"You're absolutely reading it right. And the material breach clause.
.." Maria scrolled quickly, her eyes moving with the speed of someone who'd spent years dissecting contracts.
"This is beautiful. Normally I have to argue about what constitutes 'material' versus minor breaches.
But they literally listed the exact violation you're dealing with as an example. It's like they wrote you a roadmap."
"So what's our next step?" Kate leaned forward, her exhaustion forgotten.
“The Notice to Cure Deanna sent covers all legal requirements, so you are down to a seven day period.”
"Just like that?" It seemed too simple, too good to be true.
"Just like that," Maria confirmed. "Well, assuming they're stupid enough not to cure, which based on their behavior so far, seems likely.
Publishers this sloppy usually think they can bully their way through.
They're banking on you not knowing your rights or not having the resources to enforce them. "
Her smile turned feral. "Surprise. And we are going to up it one step more. What they did wasn’t a minor breach—it was intentional.
They froze your entire backlist, ignored the provided documentation, and continued withholding royalties after being presented with the copyright records. That’s willful, and bad-faith.”
Kate sat up straight, attention caught. “Bad-faith?”
“Yes. When a publisher behaves like that, the law doesn’t make you sit around and give them a second chance.
They didn’t just violate the contract—they destroyed the trust the whole relationship depends on.
So we’re going to move for immediate termination and full reversion of rights.
You’re done with them, effective today.”
“Oh my God, Kate! That’s incredible! This might actually be the best silver lining ever.” Callie squealed as Kate just slumped back in her chair, so overwhelmed with relief that she couldn’t even speak.
Maria laughed, and continued on explaining the demand she would draft and send that afternoon.
Kate’s mind wandered back to her conversation with Callie before Deanna joined them. The memory washed over her, bringing with it a strange mix of revelation and relief.
Callie had again pointed out her ex envied her, and this time, Kate hadn’t just listened, but heard, as Callie explained her thought process. The words penetrated deep this time, past the defensive walls built over decades, settling into truth. Kate agreed that Callie’s analysis made perfect sense.
Callie had also pulled up the Emotional Wound Thesaurus for growing up in foster care, and they both realized it fit Kate to a T.
The recognition had hit her like a physical blow—a moment of true clarity, where she saw herself in the words on a page, and understand she wasn’t uniquely broken but followed a pattern, a predictable response to trauma.
Amazingly enough, realizing her fears were common for her background had helped more than anything.
She wasn’t damaged beyond repair; she was responding as expected in her circumstances.
Funny, she had used that core wound before, in more than one book, but somehow had never seen herself in it.
The irony made her lips twist in a rueful smile.
She grounded herself again using Zach’s breathing trick—in for four, hold for four, out for four—and thought back to earlier, when she had admitted how tired she was of being held back, of living a life dictated by fear and doubt.
The exhaustion of it all weighed on her like a yoke, pressing down on her shoulders, making every breath an effort.
As the others talked, their voices a comforting backdrop, she faced those fears one by one, analyzing them as Callie had, and let them go.
Each one she examined seemed to shrink under scrutiny, losing its power.
She pictured them as tangible things, dark shapes in her hands, and imagined opening her fingers and watching them dissolve like smoke.
It wasn’t over; she still had a battle ahead of her, but it was one she could, and would, win. The certainty of it settled in her bones, solid and sure, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she believed it.