Brenda Janowitz: Based On A True Story

The lawsuit. I’d totally forgotten. In addition to the fact that I’ve been totally humiliated, there’s also a two-million dollar lawsuit hanging over my head.

I walk away from Trip and call Douglas from my cell phone.

“I told him,” I say in the place of “hello.”

“I told Trip everything, so now you can call off the lawsuit, just like you promised.”

“You finally came clean?” Douglas asks. “Well, fuck me, I didn’t think you had the backbone to do it.”

“Well, I did,” I say. “So, now it’s time for you to hold up your end of the bargain and call off your lawsuit. I want it called off against Trip, the movie studio, and me. Just drop the whole thing.”

“Well, darling,” he says, “it’s not really that simple.”

“Yes, Douglas, it is. You simply call your lawyers and tell them to drop it. Then they simply call the judge and it’s over. Simple.”

“Well, I’m not going to drop it,” he says.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “You promised.”

“Well, I’ve had a change of heart,” he says. “The suit stays on.”

“Then, I’ll sue you for breach of contract,” I say. “You made me an oral promise. I then acted in reasonable reliance on that promise and did something that I wouldn’t do otherwise. That makes what you promised me a legally binding contract.”

See, I told you I was a good lawyer.

“Save the legal mumbo jumbo, Brooke,” Douglas says. “I really couldn’t care less. And, anyway, I’m sure Trip will be delighted that the lawsuit’s still on. After all, it will be great publicity for the film.”

I hang up the phone without saying goodbye and run over to the hair and make-up trailer to go find Jack and Vanessa.

Walking through a film set is a surreal experience. And it’s not just because they have a mock-up of a New York City street right next to a mock-up of an elegant Los Angeles hotel. It’s because this film set is my life. Right across from the hotel, they’ve got my old office at Gilson, Hecht and Trattner (which is accurate down to the little stress ball that was always perched at the edge of my desk), and the SoHo apartment I used to share with Douglas. I’m sure that by tomorrow, they’ll be constructing a set of Vanessa’s Upper East Side apartment now that Trip knows the truth about what happened between Douglas and me, and how I had to move in with Vanessa after he kicked me out of our apartment. How different my life is now.

I walk through the wardrobe department and see that they have a vintage Halston dress, one that’s exactly like the one that I wore to Trip and Ava’s wedding, just waiting to be worn. They also have a wedding dress for the actress who will be playing the bride. I walk over to the dress to get a closer look. It looks nothing like the actual dress that Ava wore to her wedding, but it’s beautiful all the same. The bodice has intricate double embroidered lace, covered in little pearls and tiny crystals. As I reach out to touch it, Vanessa calls out my name.

“We’re going to find you a wedding dress that will be even more beautiful than this,” Vanessa says.

And I know we will-Vanessa and my mom are taking me dress shopping next week and I can hardly wait.

“Trip is still making the movie,” I say, “and Douglas isn’t dropping the lawsuit like he promised.”

“Oh, who cares? Let Trip make his stupid movie and let Douglas have his stupid lawsuit. Your life will go on,” she says.

And I actually believe her. For the first time since this mess began, I realize my life has nothing to do with this movie or the lawsuit. My life is about the people who love and support me most. The people who think that I’m fabulous no matter what. The people I feel the same way about.

Vanessa motions to the hair and make-up trailer. “Let’s go.”

“Hey,” Jack says, as he sits in a director’s chair, getting make-up airbrushed onto his face. Yes, after all he’s been through, I managed to wrangle him a little cameo in the movie. He’s playing Wedding Guest Number Five and I must say, he’s looking rather dashing today in his tuxedo. The one bright spot in the fact that Trip’s still making the movie.

“Hey yourself,” I say, as Jack leans in for a kiss.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box. “I think you forgot something.”

I open the box and see that Jack’s brought me my engagement ring. Not the fake one I wore to Trip’s wedding, but the real one. The ring that his grandfather gave to his grandmother when he came back from World War II.

An ascher-cut diamond with regal trillions flanking it on either side and channel-set diamonds around the rest of the platinum band. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my whole life. I slip my ring back onto my finger. Where it belongs. And as I do, I realize that I shouldn’t have taken it off in the first place. And I never will again.

“Are you sure that you want to marry a girl who’s going to be publicly humiliated next summer when Scot On The Rocks hits a theater near you?” I ask Jack.

He smiles back at me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

THE END