Kate Beckinsale, a dazzling 51-year-old actress with more sass than an entire Real Housewives reunion, is locked in a bonkers battle with Nick Abramovic, who calls himself a “trauma healer” but is starting to sound like someone who couldn’t heal a paper cut.
The fight? Well, Nick’s whining about a $3,000 bill he claims Kate never paid, while Kate’s like, “Oh, by the way, you sexually assaulted me!” Casual, right?
Let’s rewind. It all started in August (because nothing good ever happens in August). Kate’s assistant reached out to Mr. Healer Dude, booking three mysterious sessions that were priced at $2,700. And for what? Oh, just “intense” massages that sound about as relaxing as trying to untangle Christmas lights while being chased by bees. The whole ordeal was described as “emotional,” and based on how things are going, I’d say emotions are at a level only rivaled by a toddler at nap time.
Now, let’s be clear: no one’s getting naked in these sessions—at least according to Nick, who reassures us there’s no oils, no rubbing, and absolutely zero nudity. (Phew! Thank goodness we dodged that disaster!) Instead, it’s all “stretch therapy, sound therapy, and breath work,” which sounds like the kind of stuff people say to sound fancy when they’re just winging it.
So, August 2 rolls around, and Kate struts into the Bionic Method (yeah, that’s what this guy calls his operation), decked out in yoga pants and a gym shirt, ready to get her healing on. Nick, being the tech-savvy wizard he is, offers to leave a camera on during the session. I mean, who doesn’t want a video souvenir of their massage therapy? But Kate, being the clever fox she is, declines. Red flag number one? You be the judge.
According to Nick, after the session, Kate was so pleased, she basically called him the wizarding world’s next Harry Potter, promising to promote him on Instagram. (Who needs Hogwarts when you’ve got social media, am I right?) She even suggested throwing a party at her house with her glamorous pals. But Nick, poor Nick, didn’t realize that this very famous actress might expect a little discount or, I don’t know, some VIP treatment. The horror!
Fast forward to session two, and everything spirals faster than a toilet flush. Kate, after apparently enjoying round two of whatever it is Nick does, claims that he assaulted her during the session. Yep, you read that right. It’s like if a spa day turned into a courtroom drama, complete with accusations, lawyers, and an LAPD investigation.
Nick, bless his heart, denies it all. He’s out here saying, “Hey, I didn’t touch her inappropriately! I’ve been doing this for five years, and no one’s ever complained!” (Cue the “I’ve treated hundreds of women” defense like it’s a Yelp review.)
Meanwhile, Kate’s lawyer, the ever-charming Marty Singer, is firing off legal letters faster than you can say “lawsuit.” And Nick? Well, Nick is still waiting for his $3,000. Spoiler alert: he’s probably not getting it.
But wait! There’s more. Because what’s a drama without some text messages? Apparently, Kate’s assistant sent a text saying she enjoyed the sessions, but then didn’t show up for the final one because, well, she had to rush to the hospital. (Was it the sound therapy? Who can say?) Nick, ever the gentleman, offered to make a house call, which totally doesn’t sound creepy at all. And somewhere in there, he asked her to wear “loose-fitting pants.” Nothing screams professionalism like wardrobe advice!
And then there’s the non-disclosure agreement, because of course there is. Nick signed it, Kate didn’t (allegedly), and then she ghosted him harder than a bad Tinder date. But don’t worry. According to Nick, he eventually got a signed copy…just no payment. Ouch.
So, here we are. Nick says he’s not trying to defame Kate. Kate’s lawyer is like, “Oh, please. Who’s defaming who?” And the LAPD is somewhere in the background just waiting for their moment to shine in this circus of miscommunication.
So, what’s next? Who knows? All we can do is grab some popcorn, sit back, and enjoy the wild ride that is Hollywood drama, where trauma healing sessions turn into full-blown legal smackdowns, and no one ever seems to walk away with a peaceful, zen-like feeling.
