The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,73

Rivers Wilde for the remainder of her stay was clearly the subject of rampant gossip.

“I can’t believe you have time to listen to gossip.”

“Oh, I don’t. But my twin, Regan, she lives for it and you two were the talk of the town after she was seen fleeing your house in the middle of a fucking hurricane. That sounded like some drama. And your stepmother sounds like a nut job,” he says.

“Fuck off,” I gripe.

He bursts out laughing. I watch him with a bored expression.

He wipes his eyes. “I’m done,” he says.

“Good. Because it’s actually a perfect segue about why I’m here. Your lawsuit, the flood victims? You need to hire them the best lawyer you can. Kingdom is pulling out all the stops because they don’t want their other tenants to get any ideas.” I get straight to the point.

“What? Are you turning traitor on your own company?” he asks and laughs.

“It’s not my company. But the foundation has exposure. I’m trying to limit it,” I say shortly.

“You live here. So, you know what my uncle has done. And I’m trying to find a way to work around his stooges on the executive committee. I think they’d be willing to settle. I want to make sure that my first act as chairman is to settle this case,” I level with him.

He assesses me for a few seconds. “So, you’re telling me you’re not going to be Mr. Same Shit Different Day?”

“I’m telling you that there is shit I’m not willing to attach my name to,” I say honestly.

“I’m listening,” he says and leans back, confident that whatever I’m about to tell him, he’s already got a stronger hand than I.

But he can’t. Not when he doesn’t know all of the cards in play.

“You need a fucking good lawyer. I saw that Jimenez asshole listed as attorney of record. He’s going to fuck it up for your clients,” I say.

“He’s one of the best litigators in the country.” He swats away my comments with the shrug of one shoulder.

“Are you personally overseeing this matter?”

“No, but I am watching closely. I’m the one they came to. I just can’t take it on right now,” he says.

“Well, let me tell you that Jimenez doesn’t give a shit about them. That’s going to matter because he’ll give them terrible advice and tell them to take whatever Kingdom’s offering.”

“Okay, I don’t have time to launch a search right now, Rivers. But thanks for the advice.” He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not here to give you advice. I said I have a favor,” I reiterate slowly. “I know a lawyer. The one who won that huge insurance settlement for those people in the delta.”

“Ohh yeah, I’ve heard of her. Some weird-as-fuck first name, like Contracts or something, right?” he says.

“Her name is Confidence Ryan, asshole,” I say.

“You know her?” he asks with an impressed, suggestive smile.

“Yeah, I know her. She’s my girlfriend. The one you were teasing me about.” I say it and ignore the flashback of her telling me she’d never forgive me.

“Oh, shit. Regan never said her name. I had no idea. You want me to hire your girlfriend to be the lawyer for a class action lawsuit against your company?”

“It’s not my company. And I’m trying to save the small piece of it that is mine. So, yeah. I want you to hire her. She’s the best,” I say honestly.

“You know she’s not just well known because of that case. Her old firm put the word out about her, man. I heard she tried to fucking gank her last boss,” he says with a laugh.

“You’re wasting my time,” I say dismissively.

“You’re wasting your own time. I don’t want a PR nightmare on my hands by hiring some chick with a short fuse just cause you’re pussy whipped,” he says.

I ignore the jab and cut to the chase.

“Why did you take this case, Remi?” I ask him.

“Because this is my city. That flood, some of the images I saw, will haunt me for the rest of my life. It’s been a month and we’re seeing stories of families getting back in the homes. But those are the people with good fucking insurance and savings. And Wilde Law is no different from any other Wilde World enterprise. We serve the Houstonians that a lot of people have forgotten about. Not because we’re bleeding hearts, but because we’re them. The underdogs. My grandfather was the son of Irish immigrants, my mother the daughter of Jamaicans who