Page 151 of Faking the Pass
What?
All heads turned toward Rosie, including mine.
She didn’t look back at me, just kept staring straight ahead.
“Is this true, Ms. James?” the judge asked. “And you are both satisfied with the terms of this private agreement?”
Rosie nodded. “Yes, your honor.”
I gripped the edges of the wooden bench beneath me, feeling like I was about to spontaneously combust.
What agreement?
Why didn’t I know anything about it?
The foreboding feeling from earlier grew even stronger. Was this what Rosie had been talking about with Randy before I’d walked in?
How could any sort of agreement to a months-long dispute be reached in the time it had taken me to park the car?
I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all.
By the looks of it, neither did the judge. She raised a brow and dipped the gavel in her hand toward Randy.
“You are one lucky son of a gun, Mr. Rump,” she said, addressing him by his legal name.
Lifting a thick white envelope from the desk in front of her, she went on, gesturing with it.
“I received a letter signed by no less than twenty women,” she said, “all actresses and Los Angeles residents, accusing you of romancing them and telling them a pack of lies about all the glorious things you were going to do for their careers because you’d fallensohead over heels for them and wanted to make them stars.”
“Several allege there were wedding plans discussed,” she said. “Some of their timelines seem to coincide with each other, some with your relationship with Ms. James here—andwith the woman you reportedly just had a child with.”
Shaking her head, she dropped the envelope to the desk where it landed with athwak.
“I only wish their stories were going to see the light of day, but as they all signed non-disclosure agreements, and as this is a sealed hearing, and you have decided to drop the case, it looks like you’re off the hook—for now,” she said.
Narrowing her eyes at him, she added, “I’d advise you to stay clear of my courtroom in the future, sir.”
“I will, your honor,” he said. “Thank you for your discretion.”
She smirked. “Thank your lawyers and their NDAs.”
Then she looked around at the rest of us in the room.
“Case dismissed. I wish you all a good day.”
As she made her way down from the judge’s bench, she shot Rosie a sympathetic glance.
Rosie’s shoulders sagged—in relief or defeat, I still wasn’t sure.
She and I both thanked her legal team, and the courtroom emptied except for the two of us.
For some reason, Rosie stayed on the other side of the rail separating the public benches from the judge and jury areas and the litigants’ tables.
When she finally turned around to face me, the look on her face stopped my heart.
Despite the dismissed complaints against her, she looked like she’d just received a death sentence.
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked. “What agreement?”
