Up & Out - Ariella Papa [64]
“Okay, sure.”
“Did you call a lawyer? You should call a lawyer, just to make sure you can’t do something to the company you gave some of your best ideas to. You created Esme, for God’s sake!”
I get Beth’s voice mail, which doesn’t surprise me.
“Hey, it’s me. I’m just calling to give you the details about my layoff. I’m okay, but if you want to reach me, call me at home or on my cell.” I don’t mention anything about Seamus because I haven’t really told her anything about Seamus since I felt weird with the whole Tommy thing. I wish Tommy and my breakup could be a nonissue between Beth and me—in the same way that our dating didn’t matter to her.
I call the lawyer, Kraig Hitchcock. He’s a friend of Don’s. I’ve never had to call a lawyer before. I’ve never gotten arrested or divorced. I’m starting to think I should have worked out some legal recourse when they decided to make Esme into a series, but I was just so excited about the fact that my idea was going to be a show. I was naive, and now I’m paying for it by not getting paid.
I explain the whole story to the lawyer, who listens kindly and sighs at the appropriate times. I tell him I have until Friday to sign the severance agreement, which stipulates I can never sue.
“It’s unfortunate that you didn’t consult an entertainment lawyer when this series of yours got picked up.”
“I know.”
“Basically, you believe you got fired because your new supervisor is an incompetent drama queen with a Napoleon complex…” He’s quick, but I guess I didn’t mention that she probably made a deal with the devil in the dark forest or wherever the hell she came from, but it seems pointless now.
“Yeah, basically, yes.”
“Unfortunately, Rebecca, I’m going to urge you to sign. Two months is fair. Unless you feel you were sexually harassed or discriminated against, there is not much you can do.”
“Um, can I be discriminated against for being tall, efficient and hard-working?” He laughs.
“Unfortunately, that isn’t how the law works in wrongful termination.” I notice he uses the word unfortunate or some form of it a lot. I think that’s a lawyer trick to make the situation more benign than it is.
“So, I’m basically out of luck.”
“I know your pride is hurt, but you’re in a better position than most. And you know what? You can still walk down the block to another kids’ network. You sound pretty young. I would advise you not to burn any bridges. You may wind up working with these people again at some point.”
“No, thank you.” I immediately regret being so insolent. “Thanks for the advice.”
“No problem.”
“Can I send you a check or something?” I’m always awkward when it comes to money for things I don’t normally purchase. I wonder how many plates of tempura he bills an hour….
“For a ten-minute conversation? For a friend of Don’s? No, that’s okay. But, listen, give me a call when you develop your next series. I can help you negotiate a better deal from the get-go.”
“Thank you,” I say. I have a new respect for lawyers.
When I hang up with him, I take a deep breath and exhale. I don’t want to think about how much I screwed myself by not working some kind of deal for the rights to Esme. How could I have been so stupid?
Okay, I won’t think about it. My one recourse will be that I will not send my signed severance in until the very last day it has to be postmarked. This is a small victory, but it’s mine.
Finally I call my parents in Pennsylvania. I have been dreading this because I know to them getting fired is devastating. In their world things like severance don’t matter. Firing means a ruined reputation and failure. This isn’t too far from the way I’m feeling, but I have to put on a brave face.
As I suspect, my mother is home and my dad is at work. My dad and I don’t have much of a phone rapport, so I’m glad that I can tell my mother and she can break the news to my father and I’ll be spared the awkwardness of having to tell him myself.
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s horrible. Was it because you were always