by Dave Daren
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Chapter 1
It took me a long time to realize I didn’t get nervous before trials anymore. I kept telling Vicki that, in a vain effort to reassure my new fiancee that courtroom litigation would get easier over time. But, the morning of her first real trial, she spent it doing yoga on our front deck.
I finally poked my head out the door. Vicki Park was decked out in full Lulumon pink and black, and had her rear sticking straight in the air in that downward dog position. Her long dark hair fanned out on the pink mat in a neat ponytail.
“Vic,” I called out.
She didn’t hear me over her earbuds, so I motioned in her eye range. She sank down through the position and removed the pink pieces from her ears.
When did she get so pink? She wasn’t like that when I first met her. Then again, when I met her, she was a sexy young woman trying to make it a man’s world. In the past year, we’d been living together in Sedona, and while she was definitely still a sexy young woman, I felt like she’d become more herself than she’d ever been. God, we were hot and in love.
“Henry,” she said as she slowly moved to a standing position. “I am centered and ready to do this. Let’s go kick some lying, cheating, stealing, scumbag ass.”
She grabbed her water bottle off the railing and chugged it.
“We have to be in Flagstaff in two hours,” I said. “The attitude turns me on though.”
She laughed and winked. “We’re going to war. And we’re going to win.”
Fuck. Hearing her talk like that was so damn sexy. She let the door slam behind her. As she sashayed off to the shower, I heard her humming that, Rachel Platten Fight Song.
“You know, I do know Rachel Platten’s manager,” I called out as I followed her into the bathroom. She turned on the spray and undressed.
“You’re such a showoff,” she smiled and rolled her eyes.
“I know,” I teased. “It’s why you love me.”
“Your massive ego?” she joked. “That’s why I love you?”
The pink and black yoga wear lay in a heap on the floor, and she wore a black sports bra and black silk thong. I caressed her creamy skin and ran my lips down her back.
“Well, that,” I said. “And my hot ass.”
“You’re delusional, Irving,” she laughed.
She unleashed her black hair from its ponytail and shook it out over her impeccably toned body. Then she winked and stepped into the running shower. “Flagstaff’s waiting.”
“Fuck Flagstaff,” I muttered as I slipped off my clothes and joined her. She laughed, and what should have been a quick rinse off after yoga, took much longer than expected. It was like there wasn’t a case or anything.
But eh, we owned a law firm. There was always a case.
Some time later, we were dressed to the nines and in my BMW for the forty five minute drive to the courthouse in Flagstaff. Vicki sat beside me in the passenger seat and applied make up.
“Did you text AJ?” Vicki asked as she meticulously balanced a compact mirror and an eyeliner pencil.
I guess if I broke it down for HR, I would say that AJ Castillo was our firm’s paralegal. But in reality, she was a vital piece of our happy little triumvirate that made our professional lives, and thus our personal lives, function properly.
Since both Vicki and I would be spending the morning in Flagstaff, and AJ wasn’t completely qualified to handle walk-in clients on her own, I told her she could spend the morning working from home.
“Yeah,” I said. “We’re on Phase II of the O’Brien liquidation plan. She’s putting together all the paperwork.”
“Ah, yes,” Vicki said. “Fun stuff. I remember the days.
I laughed. Vicki had started her legal career as a paralegal. When we founded our firm, she was none too happy to relinquish the role.
For her court appearance today, she wore a navy blue skirt suit and black Louboutins. She was Korean-American, and her dark features stood out like subtle accent pieces against her ivory skin, and her long silky legs seemed to go for ever.
“I still can’t get over this place sometimes,” she said.
I smiled faintly as the picturesque red and orange landscape whizzed by us. Sedona really was beautiful, and it took me a long time to appreciate this town. Vicki was a big part of that journey for me.
I had met Vicki Park at work. We were both working at this flashy entertainment law firm in Los Angeles. God, I was making so much money in those days. It was pouring in from every direction. We’re not exactly in the poorhouse these days either, but in those L.A. years, man, the money felt like it was growing on trees, just ripe for the picking.
It was easy work, toddler-esque squabbles over who wrote the song first, and going over contracts, and distribution deals and the like. I thought I couldn’t have been happier.
I had found success, which is exactly what I was looking for when I had moved to L.A. from my native Sedona.
Well, moved seems a bit of a delicate way to put it.
I would say it was more like, threw the bags in the car, and sped away with tires squealing before the ink on my high school diploma dried.
I had grown up a hippie child, the son of a failed rock star who had married a New Age yoga instructor in a ceremony officiated by a Hindu guru.
I decided to rebel and go to law school. What could I say? I was raised to be a nonconformist, and a nonconformist I was.
My parents spent the last half of my senior year shaking their heads and sighing, “Well, you’re an adult now. It’s your life.” Yes, it was. And I wasted no time getting out into the world to make my mark on it.
Vicki, on the other hand, was stuck in entertainment law hell as the paralegal. She had gone to law school and intended to be a lawyer, and honestly, she was probably a better lawyer than half of our partners. But, she was stunted in her career. She couldn’t pass the California bar exam, and so seemed forever doomed to a purgatory of half-fulfilled dreams.
So, she was the paralegal, and I was a partner, but there was an undeniable spark between us. We had a sort of coded office flirtation, and we were separated enough by rank that we could relax without all of that cutthroat big city law firm bullshit between us.
All of that would have probably stayed that way if my sister back in Sedona hadn’t been accused of murder. I got the call, and the next thing I knew, I was flying back home to stay with the parents who had spent the last decade praying to culturally appropriated Eastern gods that I would one day see the light and give up my legal career to become the starving Broadway actor they knew I was destined for. Krishna and Buddha worked in mysterious ways I guessed.
My sister Harmony was a brilliant artist, who had been framed for murdering an art critic. The evidence looked pretty bad for her, and she was represented by a lazy public defender that her fate wrapped all nice and pretty with a plea deal, and a quick prison detour in the fine print.
Harmony insisted she was innocent, so I went to work on her behalf. I spent the next several weeks sorting through security footage, and talking to everyone in town, all of whom were convinced she did it.
Everyone that was, except for one crime blogger--a nineteen year old community college student named AJ Castillo. AJ and I traded information and she starte
d helping me. We were getting somewhere at first, but then we started hitting a lot of dead ends. Just when I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go with this case, there was a mysterious knock on my parents’ door.
Vicki Park had followed me all the way from Los Angeles.
I had never been so grateful to see anyone in my life. So, Vicki joined up with AJ and me, and we set up in a makeshift office slash Vicki and Henry love nest in my parents treehouse. Yes, their treehouse. There wasn’t room for us in the house, and something about the treehouse at the time, held a rustic romantic charm.
I think it had to do with watching Vicki, a legit high fashion L.A. woman, don a pair of jeans and walking boots to climb up and down the ladder, with a smile on her face.
Somewhere in between falling madly in love with this sassy Korean, I was, however, still trying to solve a murder case. We knew that Harmony needed a better lawyer than the crappy public defender, but I was only licensed to practice in California, and Vicki wasn’t licensed at all. The public defender, with whom we have since mended fences, was completely sold on the plea deal, and actually forbade us from doing case work on our own.
Vicki and I took matters into our own hands, and decided to become licensed Arizona attorneys. We busted our asses in the treehouse to study for the bar exam, and we actually passed. Both of us--which was a shock for Vicki.
We fired the public defender, and then exonerated Harmony, who lived happily ever after.
Once the dust all settled, it became clear that there was nothing for us back in Los Angeles. Vicki was now a licensed attorney, AJ had shown mad skills as an investigator, and I had just created my own legal team, and the cases were pouring in. Could we leave all of that behind as one off?
And, then there was Vicki and me. To hell with the coded office banter. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
So I flew back to L.A to get my stuff and tell my boss I quit. He thought I was completely nuts and told me I was voluntarily flushing my career down the toilet, and to call him when I snapped out of my lust induced stupor.
There was a part of me that believed him, but after making senior partner, it seemed starting my own practice was the next step for me. So I moved back to Sedona.
Vicki and I got a little cottage and then we rented an office space, and started Sedona Legal. That was a year ago. Now we’ve got a handful of good clients, and we’re connected by just a degree or two to every mover and shaker in town. It had been a good year.
It was so good, we got engaged last month. I whisked her off to Tahiti for an impromptu romantic getaway, and popped the question with my great grandmother’s ring on a torch lit beach. We really just got back, and the work was already starting to heat back up.
In a town of ten thousand people, we didn’t have a lot of big trials. Most of our caseload is smaller stuff, wills, contracts, trusts. When the large cases do come in, it’s usually a big team effort, with me as senior partner running the show and doing all the court appearances.
But, I’ve been trying to be less of a control freak, and let Vicki have more room. She’s perfectly capable, but we’re so small, it’s hard for me not to take over. She did a pro bono immigration hearing at one point and that went well.
I was glad she took that over, because I was swamped with a high profile, high paying murder case. I genuinely didn’t have time for the sweet little old lady who made homemade tamales and missed her visa renewal deadline however much I sympathized with her.
But, today, was Vicki’s first real trial. It was for a craft shop that sold handmade pottery and candles. The owners had divorced a couple of years ago, and he allegedly deceived her into signing over her ownership of the store.
The wife was originally going to sue to get her half of the store back, but then realized that that would mean they would have to interact to run it together. Now, she wanted him to buy her out. He thought that was preposterous, and stood by the initial contract.
Vicki had done all of the work on it, and I had successfully resisted my urges to take over. Now, this was her trial, and I was tagging along for support, and because technically I was her boss. Although, I suspected she’d throw my grandmother’s ring in the ocean if I ever insinuated as much.
We arrived at the courthouse in Flagstaff. It was a small white columned, stately building.
“Have you heard from the client?” I asked Vicki as I parked.
“Yes,” she said. “Topaz is almost here.”
“Topaz,” I smirked and shook my head as I remembered woman that he flitted in and out of our office. Topaz was definitely the right name for her.
“Be nice,” Vicki smiled as we exited the vehicle.
“What are you talking about?” I protested as we walked up the sidewalk. “I’m always nice.”
“Mhhm,” she said. “She thinks you have a negative aura. She says you have emotional blockage and you need to clean and heal your aura.”
“Is that right?” I sighed. “I definitely have the aura of a caffeine deficiency. Can she heal that one?”
Vicki laughed. “I think she’s talking about your cynical edge.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly what she’s talking about,” I said. I smiled at Vicki and looked her over thoughtfully.
“Do you think I’m overly cynical?” I asked my fiancee.
She smiled and shook her head.
“I love everything about you,” she answered softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without that biting Henry Irving wit. Don’t ever lose your edge, Henry.”
I wanted nothing more than to kiss her right then, but we were on the courthouse steps. We had to go in right now, because there was a case. There was always a case.
We walked inside to the courthouse lobby. God, I had been in so many of these things. Vicki cast one last smile at me, before she click clacked across the linoleum to the clerk to file the paperwork. I stood in the lobby and stuck my hands in my pockets. This was her show. I had to let her run it. I was just here to sit back and enjoy the ride.
Topaz arrived not long after. She was a tall woman with blue dreadlocks pulled back in a pink headband. She wore a burgundy robe pulled over harem style pants in a blue paisley pattern.
“Topaz,” Vicki greeted her and the client burst into wide smiles.
“I’m so nervous,” Topaz placed her palm over her abdomen. “I’ve had butterflies in my stomach all night.”
Vicki flashed her a winning smile.
“Don’t worry about it,” my fiancee’s voice was silk. “We’ve got this one in the bag. Just stick to everything we rehearsed and you’re going to be fine.”
“You really think so?” Topaz asked.
“Absolutely,” Vicki winked at me and Topaz finally noticed me.
“Good to see you Topaz,” I shook her hand.
“Henry,” she said, her voice breathy with anxiety. “They say you guys are the best. I just can’t believe my ex would stoop this low.”
“Well,” I said. “We’re gonna get you--”
At that point, we heard shouting and a bearded man with shoulder length black curls entered in a similar robe.
“Topaz,” he yelled. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You’re going down, Onyx,” she yelled. “I’ve got lawyers, and it’s over, bitch. You thought you could screw me, but--”
“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” he shouted back. If his lawyers weren’t blocking his way, he would have approached us. As it was, half a dozen cops rushed to the scene.
But that didn’t stop either of them.
“We are a people of peace,” Onyx yelled to Topaz, “that was the covenant agreement. We don’t do legal. We do harmony and peace and love. You’ve violated everything we stand for.”
“Is that right?” Topaz shouted. She puffed her chest out, and with long, aggressive strides, charged toward Onyx.
“Whoa, whoa,” I admonished and both Vicki and I blocked her path.
“Calm down,” Vicki
soothed her.
“Maybe if you hadn’t slept with my sister, you douche bag,” Topaz screamed at Onyx.
What the…?
“Your sister, your sister, your sister,” Onyx mocked back. “Your sister’s a fucking slut that’s screwed half of Sedona. What’s one more notch on her lipstick case?”
“Oh, you--” Topaz rushed toward Onyx and I grabbed her arm to stop her from attacking the defendant.
Cops were everywhere now and I couldn’t keep track of all the yelling.
“Get control of your clients, people,” one officer yelled out.
I stuck myself in Topaz’s direct eye range. “Unless you want to get arrested,” I spoke in a slow halting tone, “you’re going to have to put a lid on it.”
She blinked and shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.
“Right, right,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
I made eye contact with Vicki who smirked slightly and shook her head. I heard the scuffle on Onyx’s side die down and I assumed his lawyers said something similar.
I caught the eye of one of his lawyers, and we shared the briefest commiserate smile before our team moved into the courtroom. Jesus.
The walk up to the plaintiff’s box was tense but uneventful, and Onxy’s team wisely decided to take the other aisle toward the front of the room.
It was a small room, with rows of wooden chairs leading up to the front of the room, with dark wooden tables for both the plaintiff and the defendant. The judge’s bench up front had the Arizona state seal emblazoned in bronze overhead, and flagpoles on either side.
Vicki, Topaz and I took seats behind the defendant’s table. Vicki spoke in a hushed tone to the client who now looked sufficiently embarrassed of her previous behavior.
I pulled out my iPad and looked over the notes I had on this case. I didn’t have much, I had purposely steered clear of it for Vicki’s sake. But, I went over the basics of it anyway.
“All rise,” the bailiff’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “For the honorable Judge Preston presiding.”
We stood as the judge entered the room. Topaz stood between Vicki and me, her palms still centered on her abdomen. I calculated a back up plan if she got sick from anxiety during the trial.
