He laughed. “I can’t believe I did that. Cody woke me up early with a process server at the door.” He came up beside me and looked into the pan. “What are you making?”
“Chicken and pasta,” I said. “Basic bitch dinner.”
“It doesn’t smell basic.”
“You have wine?” I asked him.
He laughed. “We have a wine closet.”
“Oh, rich people problems. Pick a nice red. I need wine while I’m making pasta.”
He disappeared through a narrow door. When he returned, he was holding a bottle. I watched him pull two glasses and fill them. I sniffed the wine and nodded before taking a sip.
“So, what did he do?”
He sighed. “Judd filed a lawsuit.”
I stirred the chopped tomatoes into the pan. “Against you?”
“Breach of contract, tortious interference, and defamation.”
“Is it serious?”
“The breach of contract piece has some teeth,” he said. “The rest is noise. He’s trying to rattle me.”
“Is it working?”
He glanced over at me. “What do you think?”
“I’d say no, but I don’t know.”
“I’m not. Not really.”
“Not really?”
“There’s more,” he said.
I waited.
“I got a call this afternoon. One of the other investors. He warned me Judd is planning some kind of coordinated media thing. Online reputation campaign. He wants to shape the narrative before the legal proceedings get moving. Make himself the victim.”
I stirred the pan and thought about that. “He’s going to come after you publicly.”
“He’s going to try.”
“And your family.”
“Probably.”
He looked tired and slightly annoyed. I wanted to kiss him and also potentially commit light violence on Judd Mathers on his behalf.
“He’s a miserable little man,” I said.
Colt burst out laughing. “He really is.”
I drained the pasta and came back to the stove and nudged him gently out of the way with my hip. He moved, but only about six inches, which put him directly beside me with his shoulder against mine.
“Maybe I should poison your food,” I said conversationally. “Keep you on your toes. Remind you to never forget a dinner date with me again. I did the whole makeup thing and everything.”