Page 71 of Professional Consult
My hands shake as I enter Clint’s text box.
Lexi:I don’t know what to do. I need to come home early, but I can’t tell Luke my plan. I don’t want to get his hopes up.
Clint:Maybe Luke needs to know you have a plan. That you care.
Lexi:He can’t. From the sound of it, I don’t think Milton plans on letting me off the hook.
Clint:I’ll talk to Luke. See if I can get him to take some time off and come down while you get this sorted out.
Lexi:No. Luke’s life is here, and I don’t want to ask him to leave. I’m the one that made the commitment. I have to live with it.
Clint:What does a breach of contract look like for you?
Lexi:You don’t want to know.
Clint:Maybe I can help.
Lexi:Are you offering to pay several million for me to back out? And I do mean several.
Clint:I’d be willing to do almost anything.
Lexi:Is working with me that bad?
Clint:No, but my brother has been miserable for almost two decades, and if there’s the slightest chance that breaking your contract could lead to his happiness, there is nothing I wouldn’t pay.
Tears floodmy eyes because Clint, the man I hated, has a heart of gold.
Lexi:I guess I’ll see you soon.
Clint:While you’re up, I’ll speak with Alicia. She might have some ideas as to how to get the producers on board.
I hangup just as Frances hands me a cup of tea.
“Earl Grey,” she says. “With a touch of honey.”
“Just the way I like it.”
She points a shaky finger at the counter. “I’ll let you sneak a lavender cookie for doing such a good job.”
“I wouldn’t turn my back if I were you. I might sneak two.”
I’ve never had interactions like this in Hollywood. Knowing that this might be the last time I feel real and genuine warmth nearly kills me inside.
But I have to face reality. It might be easier to fake my death than to break this contract.
Luke approaches, his chiseled jaw looking relaxed instead of tense.
“How about we finish the day reading to some ankle-biters?”
My heart sinks.
“I’d love to, Luke…but I have to go…” My voice cracks as I spit the words out.
Luke’s face falls in utter devastation. I hate that I made him this way. That I’m hurting him. I’d love to tell him I have every intention of breaking my contract, but I have to make sure that’s possible first.
“Come on, then. I’ll swing by the house on the way—”
“There’s no need. I don’t need Tif’s clothes.”
