One Bride for Five Mountain Men

“You were asleep,” I explain. “I didn’t want to wake you. It was like the middle of the night.”

“This is my life we’re talking about, R,” she reminds me, as though I need reminding. “If Reggie calls with some important detail like that, you can definitely wake me up.”

“Duly noted,” I say softly. “It won't happen again.”

“We’re a team,” she insists. I feel like I'm in a performance review, getting a run down of my responsibilities.

“We are definitely a team,” I agree.

“Okay… Now that that's settled. What did Reggie say?”

I take a deep breath, trying to gather it all into sense. Somehow my emails jumbled up the events as Reggie told them to me and it takes a few seconds to get it all sorted.

“Okay so… the site is live, as you know. There are more streams, as you also know. But, what's new is it seems as though the streams are being licensed to other websites. Once they are licensed, the original copyright holder starts collecting revenue from lots of different places. they’re making a lot more money, which should be more trace

able, but it's a lot harder to shut down. We need to get on that, but I am not entirely certain how.”

“What makes you think they’re connected with me? Why can’t they just be, you know, spread out?”

“Reggie was able to track down a couple of the girls, I guess… Or people who recognized them. It's beginning to look as though you maybe know each other? Or perhaps you're affiliated somehow through high school… Through college… But this ‘Head Monster’ is really good at keeping their tracks covered —”

“—excuse me, what?”

I pause for a beat, remembering I didn't tell her that anything about the LLC. How am I supposed to explain corporate law to her in a nutshell?

“Well, you see, LLCs are set up in such a way that —”

“—I know how LLCs are set up, R,” she rolls her eyes. “I went to college. I'm not a moron. Please don't speak to me like I am a child.”

Dammit. I'm doing it again. I try to remind myself that helping her sometimes borders on controlling her. I don't want to tip over to the side of just controlling her, at least not when we’re out of bed, but it's a struggle. I admit it.

“I mean,” she starts again, spreading her hands out into stars on her knees, “did you say head monster?”

“Um, yes… Reggie said that's the name of the LLC that's running the main site.”

She begins to laugh. It's a full throated, heavy laugh that starts at her belly and tips her head back. Pretty soon she's shaking, filling the room with the sound. I’m not sure what's going on, exactly. Has she finally snapped?

“Does that mean something to you?” I ask her. “Is someone trying to send you a message? Some kind of monster?”

She laughs for a little while longer, obviously trying to control herself. As she finishes, her cheeks are flushed and she sighs, wiping tears from where they’ve rolled down to her jawline.

“Not some kind of monster,” she giggles. “Some kind of head monster. It's a nickname. I mean, it's actually kind of an insult. And I think I know who would have the balls to name an LLC that.”

I smile at her, watching how her demeanor has changed from just that small piece of news. I can see hope flickering in her, maybe even the seeds of triumph. She looks stronger.

And for a second, it occurs to me I maybe should have woken her up. Instead of trying to manage everything myself, I should have given her the information, assumed that she had something worthwhile to contribute to this. Again, I've underestimated her. I silently vow that will be the last time. From now on, we’re partners. Equal partners.

She stands up, bouncing lightly on her toes and smiles with real happiness.

“Why are you so happy?”

“Because I'm almost certain that I know who this is,” she said slyly, winking at me. “How do you feel about a trip to back to the States? Maybe a legal battle or two? Do you have some kind of shark lawyer we could get to beat the snot out of this woman, the way she so richly deserves?”

I glance at my laptop, thinking about how my teams are quickly falling into disarray without my attention.

But then I snap the laptop close. It's time to get serious about one thing, really focus my energies on it.

“Just let me make a phone call,” I suggest, already scrolling in my phone for Richard Branson's number. “We can be back in New York in no time.”