Page 68 of These White Lies
“It’s a mis-worded clause in a licensing contract,” she says without looking up.
“Riveting.”
That earns me a sideways glance, and a lifted brow. “Not all of us get to solve problems by punching people. Though there are definitely times I think about doing just that.”
I grin, shifting my hand on the wheel. “Some days it’s more… persuasive conversation than punching. But yeah, I’ll take that over a licensing clause any day.”
She huffs a quiet laugh and turns her attention back to her phone, thumbs flying. Her phone rings, and she answers it with a sigh. “Morning, Genna.”
The loud sob that comes through the line is so raw, I hear it clearly from my side of the SUV, but I can’t make out all the words until Elizabeth holds the phone a little bit away from her ear.
“Genna? What’s wrong?”
“He keeps saying it’s tasteful and necessary for his artistic vision, but… You know how I feel about it.” The woman’s voice breaks.
Elizabeth’s fingers tighten on the phone, knuckles whitening. Her jaw ticks, but her voice is soft, threaded with patience. “Hey, hey. Breathe with me. Right now. In through your nose—slow—hold it, and let it out. Again. That’s it. One more. Again. You’re not alone in this, Genna. I’ve got your back.”
There’s a shaky inhale on the other end.
“Good girl. Keep breathing. In and out. Where are you now?”
Another sniffle. “In my trailer.”
“That’s smart. I want you to lock the door and put on your meditation app, okay? I’ll handle it.”
“But Elizabeth–”
“I don’t want you to worry about this for another minute. I know how important this role is for you, and that’s why we put the no-nudity clause in your contract in the first place. Because this director is known for pulling this kind of stunt. No one can force you to do it, and they can’t retaliate either without owing you millions.”
“But he keeps saying… if I don’t… if I won’t, I’ll never get anywhere. That it’s expected.”
Elizabeth closes her eyes, something unpleasant flickering across her face. Her voice, though, is steel wrapped in silk. “That’s not true, Genna. Now, tell me—what’s Gerry saying? He’s your agent. He should be handling this.”
“He… he says I should do it. That it’ll broaden my appeal.”
Elizabeth’s lips pinch until they are white along the edges, and her hand clenches so hard I’m worried she’ll crack the phone. Then she silently mouths a string of curse words before taking a deep breath.
“Don’t worry about Gerry. I’m glad you called me. I’m going to let you go because I need to call him, and that piece of”—she clears her throat, taming her rage back down—“that director. I’ll explain it to them, and they won’t mention it to you again.”
A heavy sigh blows out of the speaker. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”
“Remember you can call me anytime. Even if it’s the middle of the night. You are never alone.”
Once she hangs, up Elizabeth immediately stabs at her screen, like she’s trying to kill it.
“Problem?” I ask, because if I don’t say something, I’ll be staring at her like a damn idiot. She’s practically a fire-breathing dragon going into war and I. Am. Here. For. It.
The agent is apparently the first phone call because she leads with an irate, “What the fuck, Gerry?” And a few minutes latershe ends the call with, “Do your damn job, or I’ll help her find someone who will.”
The shift between the soft soothing tone she used with Genna and the merciless one she uses on the next calls is jarring. My jaw drops as I listen to her explain in precise legal detail exactly how she’ll essentially financially cut off the director’s balls and disembowel him in front of the industry for preying on young women.
In the end, I know she’s won when she hisses, “I better never hear of anything like this again,” before hanging up.
She breathes hard for several minutes, offering no explanation, and since I’m not in the mood to catch friendly fire, I keep my mouth shut.
After fifteen minutes I break the silence.
“You’re kind of scary when you want to be.”
