Logan Chapter 42

-Cora-

I have never felt euphoria like the feeling caused by my article going viral. People who have never even heard of Logan or Úlfur Industries are outraged on Emory’s behalf. It seems like the kids- or maybe pups?- are mostly being laughed off as good CGI and some kind of after school play. I have been noticing the odd conspiracy nut here and there talking about how the video is real, and I can’t help but think this is only the beginning. I have close to a dozen texts, missed calls, and voicemails from Emory that I’ve decided to ignore. She hasn’t congratulated me once on my success, and clearly she hasn’t ever been on my side. I don’t need her anymore, anyway.

Surely I’ll be contacted any minute by the New York Times, or maybe the Tribune. Even one of the mid tier newspapers would be a step in the right direction. I’ll never forget the disappointment on my mom’s face when I told her I would be writing for Hot Tea. I tried to explain that it was just the first step in my five year plan, but she didn’t talk to me for six months afterward. I keep glancing at my phone, but all that’s coming through are “heartbroken” and angry messages from Emory. I had one text from my mom, though. “Well done.” It’s the most glowing compliment I’ve gotten from her in years.

I did use those pictures without getting Emory’s consent first, which was a risky decision for sure, but she isn’t the type to press charges against a friend. I’m not worried about any repercussions other than not having to deal with her anymore. She’ll understand that I needed her for my big break. Logan, on the other hand, will have to be carefully managed. He has an entire PR team to work with, and he won’t be afraid to discredit me to turn the tides of opinion. I’ve been waiting on tenterhooks all day for his response. He’s been slow about it, which has me and everyone else wondering if he’s going to admit to all of it. I wonder how many people it’ll take to get Emory to press charges against him. All of New York City will be clamoring for justice by morning, especially if he can’t bother to think up a reply.

I have the news playing in the background, as well as a few different popular news sites in their own windows pulled up next to each other on my laptop. I just know that even if my article is circulating on the internet news sites and blogs rather than the mainstream news, any rebuttal by Logan will be prime time material. Anything he says will drive more traffic to my article, and my bonus for this month is going to be phenomenal. I’m mentally tabulating different updates to my wardrobe or even how much my car would trade in for when I get yet another text from Emory.

Emory: I hope you have a good lawyer.

Emory: I still can’t believe you would humiliate me like that, but Logan can, and so can the police.

Emory: Logan told me not to warn you, but I thought the last fifteen years warranted at least a quick heads up. It’s more than you gave me, but you know what? It turns out that I’m more woman than you in more ways than I ever knew. This will be the last you hear from me outside court.

Oh. Shit. I really didn’t think Emory would press charges, but it seems like Logan is a bad influence on her. Abusers can be like that, after all. I mentally watch all my bonus money from this month spiral down the drain of attorney fees. If Logan is going to take the litigation tack then I probably need to work up a defense for what he’ll claim is trespassing as well. A libel suit was practically a given. I wonder how high profile the actual case will be? I know my news outlet will try to downplay it as much as possible. Will the others see it as a solidarity issue or as a cautionary tale? Hopefully all the connections I’ve been cultivating over the years will come in handy here.

Speaking of past connections, I believe I’ll take Emory’s advice. I think I still have the number of a defense attorney I slept with a few years ago. Maybe I can get him on my side with a hotline discount. I’m sure I wouldn’t have to pay all of his fees in cash exclusively. Scrolling through my phone, I see that I do still have Tommon’s number. Damn, those trust fund babies always have weird names, but it at least makes them more memorable. I dial his number and think through my strategy here. I get his voicemail, of course. It’s only 5:30 pm and he was on the partner track according to the notes on him in my phone. “Tommon! Hey baby, this is Cora. I know it’s been awhile since our magical night, but I think we can really benefit each other again right now. I’d like your official advise, and I know you know I can make it worth your while. Call me back! Mwah!”

Having done all I can do on the legal front, I think through what this information could mean for any other response Logan could have to my story. I always loved the chess match that comes with holding a man’s reputation in my hands. It was like a practical demonstration of The Art of War. The best part is, I always win.