by Megan Jacobs
“I have complete faith in you,” he murmured into my hair. “I have the best lawyer in the world on my case.” He kissed the top of my head, and I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, relishing the smell that was inherently Liam.
I put my arms around his waist and my head on his chest. The sound of his heart, beating steady, rhythmic, and strong, helped strengthen my resolve, and after a few more moments of cuddling, I reluctantly sat up and pulled away from him.
“I have to ask you this. I don't want any surprises from Martinez at the worst possible time.”
Liam looked me, unflinchingly, in the eyes. “Shoot.”
“Is there anything, anything you can think of that she could use as ammunition, related to this case?”
My handyman looked at me for a few seconds, clearly thinking, before shaking his head.
“Not that I can think of, no.”
I nodded, and smiled at him, but on the inside, I was fighting a feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong.
I just had to hope it wouldn't hurt the case too badly.
*~*~*~*~*
Heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs to my hotel room woke me up from a deep, dreamless, sleep the next morning.
“Alyssa!” Someone called, before banging their fist on the door. “Alyssa, wake up!”
“I'm awake,” I mumbled sleepily, and rubbed my eyes. Whoever it was mustn’t have heard me because they resumed the infernal hammering on my door.
“Coming,” I groaned. I wasn't awake enough yet to care, stumbling out of bed and into the little kitchenette of my hotel room.
I pushed the door open, and there in the early morning light filtering in through the crack in the curtains was Liam. He looked more disheveled than usual, his hair sticking up in spikes, his shirt crumpled and there were mismatched socks peeping out from above his shoes. A piece of paper clutched tightly in his fist completed the messy ensemble.
“Oh, good, you're awake,” he said, hovering in the doorway.
“Didn't have much of a choice.” I stifled a yawn. “What on earth are you doing up so early?”
Liam didn't say a word, only handed me the page that was crumpled in his hand.
Everything was still a little fuzzy, I’d only opened my eyes a few minutes ago. I rubbed the sleep from them, tucked my hair behind my ears, and looked down at the paper that was causing my handyman so much distress.
With every word I read, I became more and more alert. It was a court summons for tomorrow, instead of Friday. This wasn't much of a surprise, moving the court date forwards was a classic way to try and trip up the opposing counsel. The excuse was one of the weakest I'd ever seen in my entire career – the judge had a surprise engagement pop up on our original court date, one that he couldn't cancel, and as such, we were moved forward to tomorrow. It was all awfully suspicious.
“You’d better come in,” I mumbled. “De La Croix must have paid the judge,” I murmured, as we went into the living area and I read over the document a second time.
“Isn't that illegal?” Liam paced the floor to dispel some of his nervous energy.
“It was probably an anonymous donation, nothing we can trace back to her.”
“Same with those blackmail letters.” He spat the words out through clenched teeth, and he tensed his fingers into fists.
I stood in front of him, stopping him mid-step. I had to do something, or he might end up hurting himself.
“Hey.” He refused to meet my eyes, only glowered at the carpet. “Liam, look at me.” I covered as much of his fists as my hands could, and he reluctantly made eye contact. Rubbing the back of his hands the same way he had for me the day before, seemed to calm him as his shoulders slumped in defeat. He looked down at me, and the hopelessness in his eyes nearly made me sob.
“All is not over yet.” I reached up to caress his cheek with my hand. He hadn't shaved yet, and the hair on his face tickled my palm, but I didn't react.
“Sure feels like it is.” He nuzzled his face further into my touch, like it was giving him strength.
“It's not over until I say it's over.” I dropped my hand away from his face. “Are you okay now, or do you still feel like doing something stupid, like punching a mirror or a wall?”
“I'm okay,” He flashed me that crooked smile of his. One day that expression probably wouldn't elicit some kind of reaction in me, but today, apparently, was not that day.
“Good.” I stepped away from him and put my hands on my hips. “Now do you trust me, because if you don't, we need to find you a new lawyer, buddy.”
“I'm trying to take you seriously, honestly I am,” Liam replied, then pressed his lips firmly together. “But it's hard to take you seriously in Smurfette pajamas and your hair looking like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.”
“Pot, kettle, black,” I shot back, but there wasn't any ire in my tone. “I'll have you know that Smurfette and I go way back.”
He laughed softly, and he stepped forward, into my personal space again, and neatly took my hands gently in his own.
“I trust you to win this case and make everything go back to normal. There's still loads of places I want to take you on dates on this beach.”
My stomach flipped uncomfortably, something in the back of my mind just wouldn’t let go and trust this man completely. I smiled what I hoped looked like a genuine smile, and extricated myself from his arms, putting as much space between us as I could. I needed a clear head if I had any hope of getting the one up on Martinez and having him distracting me wouldn't do anything to help that.
He raised an eyebrow at me in question but didn't say anything.
“It's all going to be fine. While this court summons is a curve ball, it's nothing I can't handle. I was ready for something like this.”
He nodded, and then gestured to my pajamas. “Want to get dressed? There's a coffee at Clearwater Café with your name on it, and then a wall that needs to be painted.”
“Oh, poor Joanne.” The teasing came effortlessly to me now. “She's going to be so put out that you're interested in someone else.”
He rubbed the back of his neck like he always did when he was embarrassed, and I grinned as I walked into the bathroom.
I really loved having this much power over my handyman.
Chapter Three
When I pulled up outside the courthouse the next day Liam was waiting anxiously for me, pacing up and down with his hands jammed deeply into his pockets. His suit was gray and perfectly pressed, and his tie was the same blue as his eyes. He looked somewhat odd, with his hair brushed and plastered down with what I could only assume was half a bucket of hair gel.
I got out of the car and walked towards him, and as soon as he saw me, his face lit up. He hurried over to greet me with a hug that I think was more to calm him down than me.
“Morning.” I gave him small smile of reassurance. “You clean up well.”
“I could say the same to you.” He looked me up and down appreciatively. I was dressed in my usual lawyerly attire. Lizzie, my assistant, had couriered some professional clothes to the hotel for me a few days ago. It was my usual black pencil skirt, a red button up shirt, and a smart, matching black jacket. Black kitten heels and a pair of earrings completed the look.
“Oh, this? I wear this every day back home.” I waved my hand dismissively.
I was expecting something sarcastic or flirtatious in reply, but all I got was Liam tugging at his collar and swallowing nervously. “I hate suits.” The timbre of his voice deepened as he grumbled. “I feel like I'm being strangled.”
I took his hands gently away from his neck, before smoothing his collar down and straightening his tie.
“It'll all be over soon.” I tried to soothe him, and it must have worked because he nodded, before checking his watch. “Shall we go in?” I gestured at the door at the top of the steps behind us.
“Well, we're fifteen minutes early.” The uncertainty in his voice was so uncharacter
istic of him, that it made me want to cry.
“Yeah, we should probably start heading inside. They have to sign you in and run you through a metal detector.”
He gave me a sideways look and huffed a laugh.
“What?” I asked defensively.
“Perhaps in New York you have to arrive fifteen minutes early for all that. This is Tiny Beach Town, New Jersey. We don't have that kind of luxury.”
“Oh.” He’d just reminded me of how different our lives really were.
*~*~*~*~*
Turns out I was kind of right. Even though it was Tiny Beach Town, New Jersey, as Liam put it, we still had to be signed in and patted down.
We found our seats behind one of the two tables in front of the judge's bench. Liam sat down heavily in the chair to my right, and he looked paler than the paint I had considered for the bathroom wall all that time ago.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded and swallowed so hard I watched his Adam's apple bob all the way down his throat.
I patted his hand and faced the bench. I wasn't nervous in the least. I felt most at home in the courtroom. Ever since I'd argued my first case, I'd wanted to be back as soon as possible. I realized, as I sighed, letting all the tension melt off me, that I missed all this. And while this courtroom was slightly different to the ones I was used to back home, it was still fundamentally the same, representing the same beliefs and upholding the same laws.
“The Honorable Judge Samuel Thompson presiding.” The no-nonsense voice of the court officer rang through the room, as the judge walked to his chair, his robes flowing out behind him. He took his seat behind his desk and gestured for us to sit.
“Good morning, everyone.” He smiled out at us reassuringly. He seemed like a friendly judge, but if my suspicions were correct about him and De La Croix, I didn't trust him one bit. “Today we'll be deciding if De La Croix v Carter will be going to trial. Miss Waterstone, would you like to begin?”
I stood up and nodded respectfully.
It was time to start the show.
*~*~*~*~*
I felt like I had left everything in a good place. I'd argued that Liam was a pillar of the community, citing the bird sanctuary and the paper cups at the café. I'd mentioned the innumerable houses that Liam had worked on over the years and the people he had helped. I'd said that he couldn't pay the half a million dollars to a woman who could clearly pay for her own damages. He couldn't go to jail and leave his diabetic father to fend for himself. All in all, I thought I was extremely passionate about my handyman, and I could see the Judge taking my points under consideration. It was all going well, until it was Martinez's turn.
“I would like to submit this into evidence.” She got to her feet with one of her yellow envelopes in her hands. My stomach twisted into a knot, as the deja vu of my previous court case with this woman rolled through my mind.
“Proceed.” The Judge waved his hand.
“This is a sworn affidavit from a client of Mr Carter's from five years ago. In it, the client very clearly states how she caught Mr Carter doing something suspicious with her wiring while he was supposed to be repairing it. A few days later, a fire broke out in her house. She had over a quarter of a million dollars in damages, which she couldn't afford to pay. She's now living in a commune with ten other people. This man ruined this woman's life, ruined the security only having a roof over your head can provide. Your Honor, I move to take this case to trial and put a criminally negligent and dangerous tradesman behind bars where he belongs.”
“Allegedly negligent.” My reply was automatic, but inside my head, alarm bells were going off. How had she gotten this information? How credible was it? I looked over at Liam, as I was not expecting to be blindsided by this woman yet again. His eyes were wide in horror. He shrugged helplessly, and I clenched my jaw in resolve.
We needed to talk.
“Recess, Your Honor?”
The Judge nodded at my request and banged his gavel.
*~*~*~*~*
I turned to Liam, my eyes narrowed, and I folded my arms firmly over my chest.
“What was my one rule?” My demand rang out loudly in the dead silence of the empty courtroom.
Liam rubbed the back of his neck like he did when he was uncomfortable. “Don’t hide anything from you.”
“Precisely. So why, pray tell, did I just get blindsided by my nemesis yet again?”
He shrugged, and seemed to curl in on himself, hunching his shoulders up to his ears and hanging his head. In that moment, all I could see was a sad little boy being reprimanded by his parents.
But this sad little boy had just put me in the same position as I had been years ago. About to win a slam-dunk case – when my own client’s dishonesty once again pulled the rug out from under my feet.
I couldn’t let Martinez beat me again.
“I fail to see how burning down someone else’s house could just slip your mind.” I paced back and forth in front of the Judge’s bench, trying to come up with a plan on how to use this setback as an advantage.
There was an angry huff of air from Liam, and he got to his feet as well. “I didn’t burn her house down,” he insisted. He sounded frustrated and annoyed. “She inherited a house from her grandfather, the wiring gave Grace’s place a run for its money. I replaced everything, but the fuse box couldn’t handle it, so it popped. There was barely even a spark let alone a flame.”
“Okay, fine. Let’s say I believe you,” I snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because...” He sighed in a rush of air. “Because I’ve repaired so many melted fuse boxes over the years that I can’t keep track of the ones that could potentially sue me.”
He came out around from the desk and tried to take one of my stiffly folded arms away from my chest so he could hold my hand.
I snatched my hand away. “Don’t,” I barked. I wasn’t in the mood – I had to win this case somehow
He stepped back, as if burned from touching my skin, and the look on his face of pure, deep, hurt only added guilt to the pile of shame, anger, and frustration boiling in my gut. It came rushing out in words I didn’t mean. “If you hid this from me, who knows what else you could be hiding?”
“Hiding? I didn’t hide this from you!” Liam’s eyes widened. “It just slipped my mind. Why do you constantly think everyone has an ulterior motive?”
“Generally they do. Everybody lies. I was hoping you’d be the exception.”
He reared back as if I’d slapped him.
“I guess I was wrong,” I added.
“I guess I was wrong too,” he murmured, and refused to meet my eyes. A small part of myself immediately mourned the loss of the intense gaze he almost constantly had on me, like the ache of a lost limb.
I looked around the courtroom, looking for something, anything, but I couldn’t place what it was I was searching for. “Any judge worth their salt would deny the motion to dismiss.” I worried at the necklace around my neck.
“And what does that mean, exactly?” I nearly shivered at the cool tone of voice Liam used.
“The case is going to go to trial. Provided there’s nothing else you hid from me, we might have something of a chance.”
“For the love of everything!” His outburst echoed around the empty room, bouncing from wall to wall. “I didn’t hide anything from you.” He turned away from me and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. My stomach flipped sickeningly at the realization that that frustration was aimed at me.
“I’ve been watching you, you know.” His words were quiet, but I heard every one. “You don’t trust anyone, do you?”
I swallowed nervously and shook my head. He had his back to me still and didn’t see my movement.
“I was willing to understand. You had a tough childhood and many people never get over that. But the fact...” He turned back to me, and the angry fire burning in his eyes, like dying embers, scared me. “But the fact you’re blaming me because
your ‘nemesis’ happened to get the one up on you? Unbelievable.”
“Liam...” My voice came out scarcely louder than a whisper. That one word was loaded with my apology, with my regret.
It did nothing to calm him down.
“I guess being suspicious runs in the family.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I shot back.
He shook his head and strode back over to his seat. He picked up his jacket and walked out of the courtroom, every step loaded with the anger I could read as easily as words on the page of a book.
Liam walked out, the door swinging shut soundlessly in his wake, leaving me to my thoughts and slowly splintering heart.
*~*~*~*~*
The rest of the recess passed in a blur as I stared at the Judge’s bench and refused to think about anything that had to do with the argument I’d just had. As such, when the Court Officer called out the Judge’s name, I was pulled from a lovely daydream consisting of beating Martinez in court for once and for all.
There was movement beside me as Liam took his seat, but I refused to look at him. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him staring down at the desk and playing with a pen.
“Can we proceed?” The Judge stared at me sternly over the top of his glasses.
“Yes, Your Honor,” I nodded.
“Good. Miss Martinez, do you have anything to add?”
“No, Your Honor.” My nemesis turned to me with a self-satisfied smirk that I wished I could slap off her face.
I turned to the Judge. “Your Honor, I request a three-day continuance.”
“Objection!” Martinez cut in. “Defense is stalling unnecessarily.”
“The evidence Martinez presented fifteen minutes ago was a surprise, Your Honor. I need time to prepare a rebuttal.” I fussed with my mother’s necklace, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
“Overruled.” The Judge treated Martinez to the same stern look he gave me, before he nodded. “I don’t like how you presented that evidence, Miss Martinez, not at all. Surprising your opposition in court is not something I approve of. However, three days is too long. I am granting Miss Waterstone twenty-four hours to prepare her rebuttal.”
