Del admitted after the last negotiation that he was out of his league and urged Wynn to hire an entertainment specialist in the future. Del’s own family law practice had grown steadily and Wynn knew the time was coming when he needed to have someone other than his brother serve as his agent, manager, and attorney.
Could Del find a way out of the mire? Should Wynn even ask him to try?
He pillowed his hands behind his head. He was scheduled to shoot the final solo film and then the last crossover back-to-back. These films were heavy on stunts and drained him physically. It was only luck that gave him this ten-day window as a break to recharge before he buried himself again in months of work. Work that he’d grown to hate. If he put that damned Carbon Man suit on one more time, he might go insane.
Del was great at financial negotiations but Wynn need someone who could pull off a miracle. What he needed was a master entertainment lawyer. One who swam with the sharks and could gobble up all the others before they even saw him coming. Money didn’t matter. Wynn had gobs of it, thanks to Del getting a back end deal with points, along with a percentage of all Carbon Man merchandise.
He sat up and reached for his phone on the nightstand, praying to the gods that Google would provide a clean answer to a messy problem. Wynn pulled up a few articles, skimming them, not finding what he wanted.
Then he clicked on something recent that had been published only six weeks earlier, naming the top attorneys in California in various areas. Bankruptcy. Criminal. Tax. Immigration. Civil rights. International. He scanned for entertainment law and found three names, quickly reading the interviews. When he finished, he knew which attorney he needed to pitch.
Scarlett Corrigan of Lymon McGraw.
Wynn hadn’t considered many of the things she addressed in the feature. She emphasized that with the rapid development of social media and information technology, it was important for an entertainment lawyer to understand and embrace change. He also liked that she had experience not only with actors and studio heads but also repped professional athletes and even a few artists and authors. Her quotes showed she was bright, articulate, and creative.
He wanted Scarlett Corrigan on his team.
Interestingly enough, it revealed she was a younger sister to Rhett Corrigan, the actor Wynn idolized. A decade ago, Rhett had been Hollywood’s biggest action star. Producers were reluctant to cast him in anything outside that genre, fearing they’d lose money. Rhett had bucked against being typecast and done what it had taken to break out and do the kind of roles he longed for. Thanks to his tenacity and the talent he surrounded himself with, he’d become the king of the box office in Hollywood. Nowadays, Rhett Corrigan had his pick of roles and did everything from comedies to drama and biopics to romance. He’d even started his own production company with his screenwriter wife, Cassie, and good friends, actor Dash DeLauria and his wife, Sydney, a top director. Rhett was everything Wynn had wanted to be when he first came to Hollywood—and Wynn looked to the man as a role model.
Quickly, he Googled Rhett, trying to learn anything about the actor he didn’t already know. An article appeared about his charity foundation that raised funds for cancer research. Wynn donated heavily to the American Cancer Society, ever since Payne’s untimely death ten years ago. Skimming the article, Wynn realized he’d donated to Corrigan’s charity event taking place tonight in Beverly Hills at the Montrelle Hotel.
He dialed Cady’s number.
“What?” she huffed, sounding out of breath.
“Are you jogging?”
“I’m jogging.”
“Can you talk and jog?” he teased, actually proud of Cady pounding the pavement. She’d lost a leg in the car accident that had killed their parents and had undergone months of therapy. Once he’d become financially successful, Wynn had sent for Cady so she could live with him. He’d seen she had the best medical care, including the most updated prosthetics available. It amazed him what she could do.
Cady sniffed. “I can multitask, Wynn. You know better than to ask. Hold on.” The line went silent ten seconds. “Ah. Okay, I had to drink some water. What’s up?”
“Didn’t I make a donation to Rhett Corrigan’s cancer foundation this year?”
“You did,” Cady assured him. “You have for five, maybe six years. It comes with an invite to the big fundraiser.”
“A casino party. It’s tonight. I just read about it.”
“I know. You never go. I’ve stopped asking you because you never go anywhere.”
“Can I still get in?”
“You definitely have a bungalow for the night. That’s part of the package if you give at a certain level. I RSVP’d no so you won’t have a seat at the charity dinner. I’m sure you could still get into the party. It would be a real coup for you to be seen there since you’re like a monk as far as getting out in public goes.”
“I want to attend the dinner. And I want to sit at Rhett Corrigan’s table,” Wynn insisted.
“Are you serious?” Cady snorted. “Like I’m supposed to wave my magic wand and make someone at Rhett Corrigan’s table disappear?”
“Well, you can multitask,” he reminded her. “And you’re hands down the best assistant in Hollywood. Come on, Cady. I need this. It’s important.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it,” she said grudgingly. “I can’t promise you Rhett’s
