He pauses, jaw slack. “What?”
“Go out on a date with someone and let me watch and listen,” I explain with a quick shrug. When he continues to stare at me in silence, I add, “Don’t tell me you don’t have anyone who you could call up and ask out.”
“I mean, sure I do.”
“So?”
“When would you want me to set this date up for?”
“What about your next home stretch? I’ll be at the game on Saturday, so worst case, I’ll find you a date in the stands if you can’t wrangle one up yourself.”
He visibly cringes. “I’ll find one.”
“It’s a deal, then.” I extend a hand.
“Oh, this is full handshake–worthy?”
“Yep. I’m serious, Finn. By the time you’re home again, I’ll have barely over a month left before the gala.”
Nerves twist in my stomach as I shift on my heels, waiting for him to take my hand. His expression softens slightly when he notices and slaps his hand into mine. He immediately releases it to drop his fist onto the one I make before knocking it againstthe opposite side. Our childhood handshake isn’t anything elaborate, but it’s us. It’s as good as a blood oath.
“I’ll make the plans, Bree,” he swears, and I believe him.
11
I sit completelymotionless behind the desk, staring straight at the judge.
The scents of wood polish, paperwork, and male desperation flood the space around me, intensifying my focus. Kevin’s lawyer, Anthony Rindback, hasn’t taken his sneering gaze off me since the moment we both arrived. I continue to ignore him. He’s a pest. A bother in a place that I feel more at home in than the condo I spent a small fortune on.
His suit is expensive, tailored just right at his ankles and wrists, with those ridiculous large cufflinks men always choose to wear as an example of their wealth. There’s not a hair out of place on his prematurely balding head, nor a patch of scruff on his shaved, rounded jaw. In another courtroom, across the aisle from any other lawyer, I don’t doubt he’s been mistaken for intimidating.
To me, today, he’s a bug that I can’t wait to squash beneath my red-bottomed heel.
Beside me, Lydia’s leg bounces furiously, her muscles rigid and expression wobbly. I settle a hand on her knee and wait for her to still before pulling it back to rest on my array of paperwork. It’s organized neatly in front of me, there for Lydiato read if she chooses to. I’ve never been one for keeping my clients in the dark unless there’s no other choice.
Currently, we’re not at that stage.
I know what I’ll see if I look back to my left. Kevin’s attention attempts to wrap a noose around my neck as I continue to ignore him and his lawyer, refusing to give him any sort of reaction here today. Of all the things that man should feel sitting at the opposite table, it’s fear that I wish for the most. If his legal representation didn’t fill him in on just how rabid I can be when I’ve been pushed too far, he’s in for the shock of his fucking life.
“You’re sure about this?” Lydia whispers, leaning into my shoulder.
The judge keeps her eyes down on the paperwork in front of her, giving nothing away. It’s unsurprising and not concerning to me. My motion was only sent through last night, scheduled completely intentionally to leave my opposing counsel floundering to have a rebuttal ready in time for this hearing. Whether that makes me just as bad as Rindback doesn’t matter to me right now. It may never at all.
Finally, the judge’s eyes flick up and away from her desk. I feel the heavy weight of them on me first, then watch as they shift across the aisle before levelling off on her paperwork again. The court clerk speaks to everyone, his posture tall and confident.
“Calling the matter of Thompson v. Ford.”
“Appearances for the applicant?” the judge asks, guiding her eyes back across the courtroom to Anthony and Kevin.
Anthony stands quickly, his hands smoothing down the front of his suit jacket. “Anthony Rindback, counsel for Mr. Ford.”
“Aubrey Merrick, counsel for Ms. Thompson,” I state, already having risen.
The judge nods once. “My understanding is that we’re here today to review Mr. Ford’s request for custody, and such, theinterim parenting agreements this court has put into place since then. These include supervised visitation and, as oflatelast night, the specifics of alcohol monitoring.”
I feel her attention clawing into me, her last statement pointed just enough to feel. Keeping my expression cool, I nod sharply. “Yes, Your Honour.”
“Yes, Your Honour,” Anthony echoes dully.
