Turning the Tables
Avery Hayes watched Liam Jennings over the faintest hint of a smile. The contract was his handiwork, and from the liability clauses alone, she could tell he'd shifted every conceivable risk from the company onto the talent. The traps he'd laid were subtle, buried deep in the legalese.
If she hadn't been a lawyer herself, she probably would have signed it on the spot, just like most newcomers desperate for a break.
Liam pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Of course. Aside from the two leads, every other actor on this project signs this exact contract."
"I get it," Avery said, her own smile barely there. "Your job is to minimize risk for your client, Mister Jennings."
She nudged the contract forward with two fingers, tapping the section on liability. Her eyes skimmed the page one last time before she met Liam's gaze directly.
"Mister Jennings, I suggest you take another look at Section Twenty-Six of the Labor Standards Act. The contract you've drafted is completely lopsided when it comes to rights and responsibilities."
She was being diplomatic, but to a fellow lawyer, the message was anything but. She was essentially telling him he'd wasted his time in law school. The document he'd drafted was so full of bad-faith loopholes, it barely deserved to be called a contract at all.
Liam's hand, which had been adjusting his glasses, froze mid-motion. His calm, professional expression cracked, replaced by pure astonishment.
Across the table, Dexter Reed and Director Duke exchanged shocked looks.
"Dr. Hayes... you've studied law?" Dexter asked, his mouth hanging slightly open.
*Are doctors really this competitive these days?* he thought. *She's not just a skilled surgeon, she can quote legal statutes?*
Avery offered a modest smile. "A little while back, I got it in my head that I wanted to take the bar exam, so I crammed all the material."
She wasn't lying. Though she had no intention of practicing law again, she was serious about taking the exam. Passing it was the first step toward getting justice for the person whose life she was now living.
It was October, and the bar was just around the corner.
She'd signed up the moment she'd pieced together what the Sterling family was really about.
The test was at the end of the month, which would line up perfectly with wrapping this short drama.
After the exam, she'd technically need to find a law firm for a clerkship.
Only after completing a year-long clerkship could she get her license and finally stand in a courtroom to fight for the original Dr. Hayes.
Of course, that was the standard path. She didn't have a year to spare, so she'd focus on passing the exam first and figure out the rest later.
Dexter was floored. The hand he'd been raising to light a cigarette stopped in mid-air.
He leaned forward, a new level of respect dawning in his eyes.
This woman wasn't just a doctor; she was a powerhouse.
Wasn't med school supposed to be brutal?
Where did she find the time to study for the bar?
Was this what it felt like to be in the same room as a genius?
Director Duke was just as stunned. He tilted his head toward Dexter, shooting him a look that practically screamed, *What did it cost you to find someone like her?*
Liam, meanwhile, was still reeling. But he wasn't about to be intimidated by one statute. He took a breath, his expression smoothing back into a mask of professional composure.
He offered a practiced, corporate smile.
"Dr. Hayes, entertainment contracts lean more toward being commercial agreements. The risks outlined are just a division of responsibilities for a commercial partnership. As long as everything is disclosed and agreed upon, it's very difficult to have it thrown out."
Avery didn't react. He was probably used to pulling a fast one on up-and-coming actors, assuming every newcomer was clueless. She let him finish his little speech, and only then did she calmly pick up the contract and flip back to the first page.
Her fingertips tapped lightly on the document's title. "But this is labeled as an Employment Agreement," she said, her voice soft.
The smile on Liam's face froze solid. In an instant, his entire argument crumbled into dust.
"And since it's an employment agreement," Avery continued, knowing she'd already won this round, "a completely different set of laws applies." She didn't need to push it. She was, after all, still trying to break into this industry.
She turned to the man in charge. "Mister Reed, how about we negotiate a new contract? Would that be alright?"
As the head of Stellar Media Group, Dexter had the final say. He could approve a new contract right here, right now.
Still trying to process what had just happened, Dexter coughed to regain his composure. "No problem," he said, forcing a casual tone. "This is just a standard template in the short drama industry. If Dr. Hayes has issues with it, we can draw up a new one."
In truth, the contract was just a piece of paper to keep the actors in line and prevent them from causing trouble during filming. Of course it was written to be as one-sided as possible. No one had ever had the standing to call them out on it before. And even if they had, they were usually ignored.
Though Dexter agreed quickly, a flicker of annoyance sparked inside him.
He'd been looking for a last-minute replacement and had somehow hired a shark who'd used her professional knowledge to completely flip the power dynamic.
He was used to being the one calling the shots, and he didn't enjoy the feeling of being outmaneuvered by talent.
But then again, he was the one who brought her in. The more impressive she was, the better it made him look for finding her. Besides, he'd heard her mentor was a nationally renowned medical expert. His own father was getting older; having a connection like that could be useful one day.
Having been a lawyer herself, Avery had seen it all. She knew exactly what was running through Dexter's mind as he agreed so readily, but she let it go.
"Alright then," she said, sensing it was time to ease the pressure. "Let's just make a few changes to this one."
The tension in the room immediately broke. Liam Jennings, his brow furrowed, glanced between Dexter and Avery before sitting down at the computer without a word.
Avery had once been on track for a partnership at a top-tier law firm. While she wasn't an expert in the niche tricks of entertainment contracts, she was a master at protecting her own interests. She ignored the minor details like working hours and went straight for the three most unfair clauses.
"Mister Jennings, please clarify the payment schedule," she said, pulling a chair up next to him and looking at the screen.
Her tone was gentle but left no room for argument.
"The contract can't be this vague. We need to specify the number of payments and be clear about the final one. How many days after filming wraps will the last check be cut? Is it three days, or five?"
Vague payment terms were a classic trap in every industry.
This contract, for example, just said: "Payment after wrapping."
"After" could mean anything, the next day, the next month, or six months from now.
Without specifics, the production company could delay payment indefinitely with excuses about processing or waiting for a signature.
That one little word could screw over countless newcomers.
Hearing her proposed changes, Liam's fingers paused over the keyboard. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over him. He'd been in this business for five years and never imagined he'd be schooled on his own turf by a medical student.