“Christos, Christos, Christos,” Russell sighed. “What is it this time, young man?”
I opened the envelope and read the paperwork.
“What?” Samantha asked, worried.
I sighed heavily. “Hunter Blakeley is suing me.”
“What? Why?” Samantha frowned. “Because you tripped him that day at SDU?”
She was referring to the time I’d walked up on Hunter giving shit to her and Romeo in the Eucalyptus grove on campus. “No. Because I punched him in the face.”
“When?” Samantha asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
“I want to know,” Russell interrupted. He took the summons from me. “And I want to know who all was involved. No more of these last minute surprises.” He scanned over the paperwork. “This is a civil suit, Christos. He’s suing you for damages. Did you hit him?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “But it was self defense.”
“I’m sure it was,” Russell said.
I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He was probably pissed that I’d walked out of one trial and right into another. I couldn’t blame him.
“Look,” I said, “A couple weeks ago, Hunter and three of his buddies followed me and Jake after we left Hooters. Hunter took a swing at me, so I back-handed him in the nose. Once.”
Russell pursed his lips while his brow knotted over his dark eyes. “Sounds familiar. Unfortunately, a civil trial isn’t like a criminal trial, son. If you hit him, you’re probably going to have to pay. The only thing I can do is work to minimize what you’ll owe him.” He flipped through several pages of the document. “Which, in this case, is a whole hell of a lot. This guy’s attorney is asking for a million in medical bills, lost wages, and pain and suffering. We can cut that down quite a bit. But I might not be able to make it all go away. May I ask, did you have a film crew on hand to save your ass in court this time around?”
“I doubt it,” I said. “It was the middle of the night on an empty street. No one was there except Jake and the three guys with Hunter.”
“All right,” Russell said. “We’ll figure it out. In the mean time, may I please beg that you not get in any more fights? Is that possible? Or am I asking for water from a stone?”
Everyone was staring at me expectantly. Samantha, my dad, my grandad, Brianna, and Russell. All had skeptical looks on their faces.
“Come on, guys,” I pleaded, “the only reason any of this shit started is because I was defending Samantha. The first time at her VW, the second time in the Eucalyptus grove at SDU. Hunter never would’ve cornered me and Jake that night if I hadn’t tripped him that day at SDU. He was still pissed I’d made him look foolish.”
“While your actions have been honorable,” Russell admonished, “the next time there’s trouble, I encourage you to run the other way. Feel me?” He raised a doubtful eyebrow, but a slight smile betrayed his seriousness.
“What about Samantha?” I asked. “What if I need to protect her? I’m not going to leave her in trouble.”
“You’re a strong boy,” Russell smirked. “Pick her up, throw her over your shoulder, and run.”
I chuckled, “I can handle that.”
Russell put a big hand on the back of my neck. “All right, you all. I’ve had enough courtroom drama for one day. Let’s get some dinner.”
We all walked east on Broadway and went inside the Yard House. Since it was early and the dinner rush hadn’t set in, we got a table for six right away.
While we waited for our waiter to take our drink order, I checked my phone. Tons of texts and voicemails from Samantha. I felt like a jerk. She must’ve been freaking out trying to reach me. I’d make up for it later.
But the last text to come in was from Brandon Charboneau.
How are the paintings coming along? I want to book the gallery for your show, but I can’t set a date until you give me one. Let me know.
Fucking great. I had never told Brandon about the trial. He’d been cracking the whip enough as it was without knowing. I hadn’t wanted him going nuts thinking I had to get everything done before I ended up in prison. It would’ve created way too much tension between us.
Now that my trial was finally over, the last thing I wanted to do was jump back in the studio to continue painting a bunch of models I had no interest in painting.
Before, I had been painting them mostly to keep my mind off the Grossman trial. Work was always a good distraction. On the bright side, now that I had this ridiculous Hunter Blakeley civil suit hanging over my head, the work might be just what I needed to keep me motivated. I’d spent a huge amount of my money on Russell. His services weren’t cheap. If I ended up paying out to Hunter, even if I only owed him a fraction of the amount he was asking, I’d be broke.
I needed to earn some cash quick. Cranking out the canvases for Brandon was a good a way as any to pull in more Benjamins.
And now that Samantha had moved in, she could watch me hanging out with hot naked chicks seven days a week. She wouldn’t miss a moment of the excitement. I’m sure she’d have the time of her life.
Fuck. Like everything else, I’d worry about it later. When the waitress arrived, I ordered a double shot of Basil Hayden bourbon.
Let the drinking begin.
SAMANTHA
“How much did you drink?” I asked Christos as everyone walked out of the Yard House onto Broadway.
“Lost count,” Christos slurred.
“You weigh a million pounds,” I grunted. His arm was over my shoulder and he leaned against me. It felt like a building had fallen onto me.
“Let me help you, Samantha,” Nikolos said, concerned. He grabbed Christos’ other arm and stood him up easily, taking all of his weight.
“Where’s my Camaro?” Christos asked.
“You’re not driving, paidí mou,” Nikolos said, “not like this.”
Christos wasn’t sloppy drunk, but he was in the neighborhood. This was the first time I’d seen him like this. I couldn’t blame him. He’d had a stressful day.
“I can drive Christos’ Camaro,” Spiridon said to Nikolos. “You can take my car home.”
Nikolos nodded. “Which way to your car, Samantha?”
“This way,” I pointed.
“Brianna and I are parked this way,” Russell said to everyone. “I should get her back to her car at the office so she can go home.”
We all said our goodbyes. Spiridon and Nikolos walked Christos and me west on Broadway, toward the parking garage where my VW was. Russell and Brianna went the other way.
“Tell me about some of your paintings, Samantha,” Nikolos said as the four of us walked along the sidewalk.
“She’s awesome,” Christos slurred, his eyes a little glassy.
“She’s quite good,” Spiridon agreed. “She’s a fast learner. Christos has taught her a lot since they met in September. I’ve never seen such rapid improvement.”
I blushed. “Gosh, Spiridon, thank you.”
“I’d love to see some of your work,” Nikolos said. “Has Christos been teaching you about the figure?”
“Yeah. He’s taught me all about gesture drawing and studying anatomy, and how to draw from the model. I never knew you could do that. I always thought you had to make everything up out of your head.”
Nikolos nodded and smiled, still holding Christos around the waist to help him walk. Christos was drunker than I’d thought.
“She’s soooo good,” Christos said.
Yeah, he was toasted.
Nikolos didn’t seem to mind. I knew from Christos that Nikolos was a heavy drinker, but he hadn’t drunk anything at dinner. He was completely sober.
“A lot of people think drawing is magic,” Nikolos said. “They think you’re either born knowing how or you’re not. That’s not true. You can learn, especially if you have a good teacher.”