He chuckles and shakes his head. “Look, I know you’re freaking out and doing that thing where you deflect into humor so that you don’t have to focus on the present. But don’t worry. We’re fine. When have I ever let you down?”
“The seven hundred texts that I sent you over the past week didn’t make me seem super chill and cool about all this?”
He grins, then leans in conspiratorially. “We’re filing a motion to dismiss. They don’t have a case, and they know it. The judge will drop it when he reviews the details. This whole thing is a waste of everyone’s time.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Then why are we even here?” I gesture dramatically to the courthouse, the red suit, the painful high heels, theentire ordealthat has been causing me to lose sleep and wreck my nerves for weeks now.
I don’t usually stress about much—mostly because if I sat down and thought about all the things Ishouldbe worrying about, I’d never get anything done. Every morning all I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and making it through the day until I collapse back in my bed. So, most days I do what Leo always says I do: deflect with humor, make a joke, and somehow scrape my way through life with little to spare.
But this morning? Different story.
Once Eden figured out what I was up to, she ran straight to Gabriel, who immediately looked like he was one deep breath away from a full-blown panic attack. He told me to updatehim the second everything was over, which only made my own anxiety spike through the roof.
Because this isn’t just about me anymore. It’s aboutthem.My family. And if there’s one thing I refuse to do, it’s screw up in a way that drags them down with me. I’ve done that before. I won’t do that again.
“Because” Leo says, his tone perfectly dry, “some people just love to sue. I heard through the grapevine that Madison and Matt’s lawyer is some big shot who represents a lot of other social media influencers and famous people. I’m sure he’s just doing his job,” Leo murmurs as we walk toward the courtroom where our case is being heard.
“But don’t stress. You don’t have to say a word. They’ll call me and their lawyer up, we’ll file to dismiss, and that’ll be the end of it.”
I nod, trying to trust his calm reassurance. He might be a public defender with a much different caseload than this most days, but Leo has never steered me wrong. If he says he’s got this, I trust him completely.
We move into the courtroom, and I look around nervously. The room is smaller than I expected, almost claustrophobic and nothing like the court cases that I watched in preparation for this.
And yes, I watchedmultipleepisodes ofSuitsprior to this court appearance so that I’d know exactly how to act. Most of the time was spent drooling over Harvey Specter.
The room is full of empty rows of wooden benches save for a single, blonde woman sitting up front. From behind, she looks just like Madison. A purple, gem covered headband, and curls that fall just past her shoulders. I don’t know why I didn’tanticipate coming face to face with her today, but here we are. No going back now. At least Matt isn’t here with her.
I avert my eyes quickly and follow Leo to the defendant’s section, trying to hide in his big shadow and settling in as discreetly as possible and without drawing her attention. I’m not sure if it worked, but I’m not going to check.
Moments later, the judge enters, an older man with a stern face and wire-rimmed glasses. He takes his seat, surveying the room that’s practically empty as Madison stands, her voice overly chipper.
“Um, hello, honorable judge, my lawyer just pulled in,” she says, glancing at the clock. “He’s running a minute late.”
The judge’s gaze drops over the rims of his glasses, unimpressed.
“We don’t wait for latecomers,” he states firmly.
I bite my lip and send up a prayer. Wouldn’t it be nice if their lawyer didn’t show and the whole thing got tossed? But alas, things rarely work in my favor.
Before the judge can continue to berate Madison for her tardy legal representation, the courtroom doors swing open with a loud creak that’s almost theatrical, and a man strides in, cooly, confidently, and with a certain charm that if the room were full, would cause everyone to snap to attention.
And I would know because my neck just about snapped looking at him.
He’s wearing a perfectly tailored three-piece khaki suit that is, for lack of better wording,strikingly familiar.His light brown hair is styled to meticulous perfection, beard grown out a little more than scruff now, and he’s carrying a leather briefcase in his large hands.
My heart skips a beat.
There’s no way.
“Apologies for being late, Judge Rander,” Madison’s lawyer says smoothly, his voice calm and confident.
He doesn’t glance in my direction, but I don’t need him to. Because I’d know that handsome side profile, the black rimmed glasses that make him look like a model, sparkling smile, the deep baritone of his voice, the way he wears a suit, and those big hands anywhere.
Because they’re the ones that touched my body and made me come more times in a night than I ever have before. And the ones that I’ve fantasized about for months when I touch myself.
Chapter 11 – Rhiannon
My jaw goes slack.
