Fireworks 3 and 4

Chapter 6ixty-Nine

    A sharp knock roused Mia from her slumber. She bolted upward, rubbing at her eyes. The large lump beside her was much slower to wake. Frowning, she stumbled out of bed and made her way to the entrance door of her condo. Pulling the door open revealed two uniformed officers. The sight of them woke her instantly. "Uh...hi."

    "Mia Thomas?" the dark-haired officer on the left queried.

    "Yes?"

    "I'm Officer Rios and this is my partner, Officer Jacobs. We're here to ask you questions about an incident that happened recently at once of your dance rehearsals."

    She froze. "I...excuse me?"

    "One of your dancers is pressing charges for physical assault," Officer Jacobs informed her. He was shorter than Officer Rios, and appeared to be bald beneath his hat. 

    Scratching her head, she took a step back to allow both of them inside. Farrah is trying to press charges? Is she serious? "I'm guessing you're referring to Farrah."

    "Can you tell us in your own words what transpired?" Officer Rios asked. "We already have her account."

    Mia folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. "I can't believe she'd even try this. Multiple people recorded the event."

    "If you know the names of those who recorded the event, that would be great," Office Jacobs said, pen and notepad already in hand.

    She rolled her eyes heavenward.

    "What's going on?" a very tired-looking Drake asked as he entered the living room.

    "The dancer who hit on you is pressing charges against me," Mia told him.

    His eyes widened as he took in the two uniformed officers. Then his gaze returned to Mia. The expression on his face cleared as he said, "I'll get Oliver on the phone immediately. Don't say anything else."

    She opened her mouth to reply to him, but he was already making his way back to the bedroom.

    The officers exchanged annoyed glances before providing her with their card. "If you aren't going to answer our questions here, you will need to meet us at the station."

    "That is preferred!" Drake called to them from the bedroom. Then his voice lowered as he continued speaking on the phone.

    Confused as to what to do or tell the officers, Mia shrugged. "We will come to the station."

    "It's your choice," Jacobs muttered. 

    She walked both officers to the door and watched as they shuffled down the condo corridor, her heart hammering in her chest. What would these charges mean for her? How would they affect her? Would they affect ticket sales for her tour? Was she silly to wonder about how this would affect her wallet, when there was the more pressing question of whether or not she'd have to go to jail? Her vision blurred, and she had to reach out to grab onto random objects and furniture pieces until she reached the nearest living room armchair. 

    Drake returned and concern lit up in his eyes when he saw her. He rushed over to her side and knelt by her. "Everything is going to be alright," he assured her. "Oliver is reaching out to legal now. They'll meet us at the station."

    "Oliver is going to go back to hating me," she wailed. "All I'm doing is creating trouble. Confronting her was so fucking stupid."

    "No, it wasn't. It was real."

    She leaned forward and covered her face with both hands. 

    He stood and bent down so he could wrap his arms around her. "Baby...everything is going to be okay. Trust me. Okay?"

    "How can I, when roadblocks keep popping up in every direction I turn?" she demanded.

    "This is just the name of the game, once you're constantly in the press," he told her, giving her a slight squeeze. "When you're on the brink of real fame, you become a target. Everyone hears about the people who deliberately get into car accidents so they can sue the Range Rover that was driving behind them. This is pretty much like that. Your dancer screwed up her own meal ticket and you embarrassed her. Now she wants to make you pay for that, literally. Pressing charges is just the first step in that. It is what would allow her to then file a civil suit so she can sue. Sometimes, they're hoping you approach with an offer to pay them off so they don't follow through with officially pressing charges."

    "People were recording," Mia mumbled. "I saw them."

    "Our legal team will reach out to them. Don't worry about this."

    She lowered her hands from her face and leaned back to peer at him. "I refuse to pay that bitch a dime, based on principle."

    His arms loosened around her to allow her space to move. "Farrah won't get a dime."

    Falling silent, she rested her head on his shoulder.

    "Do you remember when you asked about the things that my legal team has saved me from?"

    "It wasn't that long ago that I asked," she pointed out.

    "Yeah, I know." 

    "Why did you bring that up?"

    "Because..." He hesitated.

    She pulled away from him again.

    He rose to his full height, but his eyes remained locked on hers. "Because we can approach this situation clean and let the legal team deal with it...or..."

    Her slender brows drew together. "Or...?" she prompted.

    "Or we could fight dirty," he finished, shrugging his broad shoulders.

    She searched his eyes, not even knowing what she was looking for. "Fight dirty how?"

    "There's another team I'd have to consult for that," he explained. ""How we would fight dirty would depend on what we find out about her."

    "You're talking...looking into her past and threatening to air out her shit?"

    "I'm talking looking into her past, present and what she hopes to be the future," he corrected. His eyes hardened in a way she hadn't seen since he'd fought off the NFL player who'd sexually assaulted her years back. 

    She stared at him, this tall, mixed Canadian man whom everyone assumed to be this corny, chronically heartbroken man. If everyone saw what she was seeing now, they'd know that he wasn't someone to play with. The look in his eyes was dangerous. "I don't know."

    "We don't have to," he was quick to say. "This is your choice. I just want to make sure you know it's an option."

    But who would I become, if I started to fuck with someone's life like that? she wondered. What else would I justify doing, if I found a way to sleep at night knowing that I'd taken the sleazy way out of a situation? 

    "You also don't have to give me an answer right now," he said. "But if it's something you want to do, time is of the essence."