Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Unlike my mother earlier, I don’t bother to qualify my endorsement of Caleb with, “As long as I’m always in the child’s life.” Sitting here now, I trust Caleb completely. Enough to know he’d never screw me over in relation to Raine or anything else. Which means that qualifier simply isn’t necessary.
When my attorney finally sits down, Ralph’s silver-haired attorney gets up and levels me with cold, reptilian eyes. “You’re aware Mr. Baumgarten was in rehab until mere weeks ago, correct?”
“Yes. As I said, he employed me as his sobriety coach.” I clear my throat. “He’s very committed to his sobriety, and I think that’s admirable.”
“You know what got him sent to mandatory rehab in lieu of jail?”
“I do.” He asks me to explain what I know about the incident in New York, and I tell him what I know, as heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks. “Caleb was devastated about his mother’s death that night. He was overcome by grief.”
Ralph’s attorney stares at me for a long moment, like he thinks I’m full of shit, before moving on to his next question. For the next few minutes, he tries to get me to admit I’ve witnessed Caleb falling off the wagon. That I’m covering for him. Lying under oath. But of course, he gets nowhere, since none of it is true. Obviously, he’s got nothing and he’s simply fishing.
After looking down at his notes for a while, Ralph’s attorney switches gears. He asks how much Caleb pays me. Tries to get me to admit the amount is exorbitant. That I’m being paid to lie today. But my attorney prepared me for this tactic, so I’m able to shut him down with facts and figures about the high-end nanny market. Nobody would pay the amount Caleb pays me in Prairie Springs. But in LA, and especially on the “celebrity nanny circuit,” my salary, while exceedingly generous, doesn’t seem quite as insane, thanks to Caleb being a rich, globally beloved celebrity.
With a snarl, Ralph’s attorney asks, “Miss Capshaw, are you aware of Mr. Baumgarten’s long history of violence?”
Shit. I didn’t see this coming. We didn’t practice this. “I’ve seen a couple old videos online of Caleb losing his temper, if that’s what you mean. But both incidents seemed justified to me.”
The attorney asks for details, and I describe the videos I’ve seen. In one, Caleb pushed a paparazzi guy, hard, after the photographer basically assaulted Caleb with a large camera lens. In another video, Caleb tossed a fan clear across the stage, after the guy broke free of security and came running at Red Card Riot’s famous front man, Dean Masterson. I try not to smile as I describe the second video, the one where Caleb protected his bandmate; but the attorney’s outraged reaction tells me I’m not successful.
“Mr. Baumgarten’s violence is amusing to you?” he asks righteously.
“That particular video was amusing to me, yes, because Caleb got there before security, and he threw the guy, like, fifteen feet across the stage to protect his best friend from getting tackled. The whole thing was so Caleb to me. So, yes, that one particular incident is honestly kind of amusing to me.”
Ralph’s lawyer quirks an eyebrow. “It was ‘so Caleb’ to you in what way? You mean, because it was shockingly violent?”
Fuck this guy. “No, because Caleb is incredibly protective of the people he . . . cares about. He doesn’t hesitate to go into superhero mode, whenever the situation calls for it.” Shit. During that answer, I almost said Caleb is protective of the people he loves. But given the time Caleb slapped Trent in Billings for me, that wording would have implied Caleb loves me, and I’m not certain of that, especially not under oath.
“Other than in videos, have you personally witnessed Mr. Baumgarten being violent?” the lawyer asks.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Does he know about Caleb slapping the shit out of Trent, or is he fishing again, the same way he did about Caleb falling off the wagon? If you ask me, the incident with Trent only proves Caleb’s worthiness as a father, since my own father wanted to beat the crap out of Trent, too, when he found out what my then-boyfriend had done to me. As a matter of fact, my dad stormed out of our house with a baseball bat to look for Trent, after he heard the news. Lucky for Trent, he successfully hid from my father for several days; and not too long after that, he moved to Billings. If Trent hadn’t skedaddled, however, what would my father have done with that baseball bat? Surely, something worse than a slap. And yet, there’s no doubt in my mind, Joseph Capshaw is the best father in the whole world.
“Miss Capshaw?” the lawyer prompts.
“I’m thinking about my answer,” I say. “I want to make sure it’s totally truthful and complete.” Like Caleb always teases me about, I’m a rule follower, through and through. I don’t knowingly lie, especially not when under oath. And yet, when I look into Caleb’s pleading eyes, I quickly decide to make an exception to my usual rules. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. I’d rather tell a little white lie today on the stand, by conveniently forgetting about a much-deserved, much-appreciated karmic slap, than risk Ralph coming anywhere near our beloved baby girl.