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Terri, she did some films, probably ten years ago. She still knows a lot of the producers and crew. I’m not sure what her partner does, but I think he’s in finance. They joke a lot about the guy’s finance friends not knowing they’ve had a porn star over for dinner.”

I push my notebook and pen across the coffee table at him. “I need a list of everyone you can remember at the party. Full names. Addresses if you know them. Everyone you can remember, Rick.”

“Fuck, that’ll take hours, man. I don’t know off the top of my head where half of them live. I’m going to have to call Glory.”

“Then call her. This isn’t going away, Rick. That’s a public allegation of solicitation, assault with a weapon, and rape. Even if I can get my IT guy to take that website down, it will be cached somewhere. An enterprising NYPD detective comes across that while Googling your name and you’ve got a felony investigation to add to your internet woes. Statute on rape is a long fucking time. You do not want this to come back to haunt you ten years from now.”

Rick leans back in his chair and rubs his temples with his palms. “Fuck, man.”

“No kidding. You can’t remember anything about this girl other than the name Laura?”

Rick shrugs. “I honestly don’t remember what she looked like except that I remember when she was sitting on the floor looking at me, her hair had fallen to one side and I could see that the sides were shaved. Like the hot chick in Hunger Games.”

I don’t remember a hot chick in Hunger Games other than Jennifer Lawrence, who was a little too butch for me. I’ll have to ask Emily, whose knowledge of movies is truly encyclopedic.

Then I remember I can’t mention any of this to Emily. Damn.

“What color?”

“Dark red.”

“Long or short?”

Another shrug. “Long, I guess. I could grab a good handful. I wasn’t taking fucking fashion notes, man. She had a great body and a pretty face and she wanted to fuck. I didn’t rape her, no matter what she says.”

“Then why’d you tell me at the beginning you didn’t know if you did or not?”

“I don’t know. I guess talking it through clarified it in my head. You kept asking me if she said ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or anything and she never did. I’m telling you, man, she was totally psyched with everything until the end. I shouldn’t have slapped her, but I already told you that.”

Clarified it, or hardened a hazy recollection? I’m not sure. Yes, a couple of things he said sounded right, and nothing hit as a lie, but I have to wonder if the truth isn’t somewhere between EvonneBringsTheTruth’s version and Rick’s. There’s enough of a question in my mind that I’m not walking away from him, yet, but I’m still not far off.

“Okay. Email me that list.” I take my pad and pen back. “I’ll get my IT guy on the case. Whatever Glory says, Rick, I can’t believe this is good publicity. Has there been any other blow-back from the community other than Daisy canceling on you?”

Rick shrugs, but he’s frowning. “A couple of emails. Guy from Slinky Sirens wants me to lay low for the release we got next week. No interviews or clips on my site the way I usually would. Whatever, he’s a tool.”

A tool who sensibly wants to avoid getting drawn into Rick’s shitstorm.

“Okay. If you get anything else, forward it to me and I’ll work on damage control. Priority is to track down this EvonneBringsTheTruth. I’m not trying to be an asshole, Rick, but you’re probably looking at a six-figure pay off.”

“Yeah, I figured that’s what you’d say.” He pushes his hands through his hair again. “Six-figures for a slap across the face.” He shakes his head. “Whatever.”

If I believed it was just a slap across the face, I wouldn’t even be advocating tracking the girl down. But I don’t, and whatever Rick is telling himself to make himself feel better, I don’t believe he does either.

“She hasn’t contacted you directly and asked for money?”

Rick shakes his head. “Hasn’t contacted me at all. Just splashed this shit all over the web.”

“Okay. Let’s hope she keeps it to the internet. I want to step up your physical security, though. You’re not wearing your panic button.” I nod at his wrist, which only has a smart watch on it and not the metal wristlet I had custom-made for him. “Why not?”

“’Cause I’m with you. Why would I wear a panic button to work out with my goddamn bodyguard? C’mon, man, don’t you go all tool on me, too.”

“Wear it, Rick. All the time. It’s waterproof. You never need to take it off.”

“It turns my wrist green.”

He can be so fucking petulant. Guess that’s what comes from having people hang all over you all the time. I’ve never been one of those people, and Rick seems to value my disinterest. He’s about to get an earful of it.

“It does not. It’s titanium, not copper. Stop your whining and get the damn thing on. I’ll brief your building security. I know they know the drill but it doesn’t hurt to remind them. Have Glory give Manny your schedule a week in advance. Take him with you whenever you’re in public. You’ve got a party coming up, don’t you?”

“Yeah, next Friday. Emily already RSVPed for you.”

“That’s fine. I’ll still bring her, but I’ll be working instead of playing. Me, Manny, and another guy I want to bring in for the night as well.”

“Christ, man, this is going to run into six figures before you ever find the bitch. Give me a break.”

I sit back and cross my right ankle over my left knee. Give him a moment to see how serious I am. “I’m telling you what I need to do to keep you safe, Rick. Now I’ll tell you why. In the past five years I’ve dealt with over

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