“I loved that movie.”
Judge Harris slapped his gavel. “Juror Number Four, please refrain from speaking.”
Harlow detailed her friendship with Matt on the set and their surprising meet-cute at Tony’s Pizza, depicting the scene quite accurately, recounting her embarrassment. “My dress was hiked up to kingdom come, showing off my underwear.”
“Oh mercy, ain’t that the worst? Had something similar happened to me when—”
Judge Harris slapped his gavel. “Juror Number Four, one more outburst and I’ll remove you from the room.”
“Anyway,” Harlow said, “there I am with a mouth full of pizza andtheMatt Knight kneels down in front of me and says, ‘H, what are you doing here? Wow, it’s so good to see you.’ He didn’t stare or gawk. He didn’t laugh or curl a lip. He made me feel...” She glanced down at her hands. “Special. And I hadn’t felt special in a really, really long time. Maybe not ever.”
Oh, Harlow... Matt’s lips buzzed something fierce.
“He hired me to work at the Starlight before I even applied. I didn’t even know how to skate, but Tuesday taught me. Though I secretly think she wanted me to dust the floor, because I spent a lot of time on my backside.”
Marvin Moore moaned and slumped down in his seat.
“Ms. Hayes, let’s move on to the day in question. Did Dale Cranston stop by your table as you dined with Mr. Knight?” Bodie said.
“He did. He ridiculed the Starlight and me. Matt told him who I was, but Mr. Cranston said I was too fat to be Harlow Hayes. However, he did suggest I was pretty enough to be used for a one-night stand or two.”
The jurors and every spectator in the courtroom gasped.
Moore was on his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. Dale Cranston is not on trial. Insulting someone does not warrant being assaulted.”
“Well, it should.” Juror Number Four again.
The atmosphere exploded with shouts and gavel banging.
“Order!” Judge Harris said. “I will have order in my courtroom. Mr. Nickle, get to the point. Now.”
“Ms. Hayes,” Bodie said, “did you see Matt Knight punch Dale Cranston?”
“Actually, no, I didn’t. I was staring at my plate. Because of what Mr. Cranston said about me. I was ashamed.”
A collective gasp was followed by a low din of spectators talking among themselves. The jurors leaned together in a discussion accented with wild gestures. Outside, the “Free Matt Knight” mantra continued.
“Did you see Mr. Knight strike Dale Cranston at the Starlight on the night of May 26?” Bodie continued.
“No, I did not. I only saw Mr. Cranston lunging at Tuesday, but the mayor got in the way. I tried to keep Tuesday from falling.”
Bodie glanced back at Matt and mouthed, “Boom.”
Boom was right. Once again, Judge Harris banged his gavel, trying to bring order. Everyone talked at once.
Through the noise and chatter and the “Free Matt Knight” chants, Harlow glanced his way, and her eyes pulled him from his chair like a scene fromClose Encounters of the Third Kind. He passed through the chaos and stepped into the witness box.
“Is this going to be a thing with you? Kissing me in crowded public forums?” she said.
“Maybe, but I have one question, and remember, you’re under oath.”
“I’m listening.”
“Marry me, Harlow.”
“That’s not a question.”
He grinned through all of his buzzy, fuzzy sensations. “Will you marry me, Harlow Hayes? I know what we said in the jail cell, but something has changed. You’re free. I can see it in your eyes, and I want what you have.”
