by Ann,Brooklyn
She watched the proceedings as if they were a TV program completely distant and unrelated to her. The stenographer dutifully typed away as the judge peered through his spectacles at a printout of Dante’s tour dates.
“As you can see, your honor,” Shayna’s lawyer said, “Dante Deity hasn’t performed anywhere near the Portland area in the last year, so it would have been impossible for them to have met before the time my client stated. Furthermore, he was still touring in Europe during the timeframe the plaintiff accuses.”
The mention of Dante’s name was like a spear to the heart, making her ache with longing. Her flight to Portland had been a disaster. The airline wouldn’t let her carry the pillowcases on the plane, so she was forced to leave them behind. She hadn’t realized her phone had been hastily shoved one of them. After an excruciatingly long layover in Las Vegas, she finally made it to Portland and purchased another, only to realize that she didn’t know her old number so she couldn’t have it ported. Even worse, she’d never bothered to memorize Dante’s house or cell number. She’d called the hotel that Dante was staying at, only to learn that he’d checked out the day after she’d left Sacramento.
Did that mean he’d finished early? Had he been calling to tell her that as she left his house? Had he later tried to call her on her old phone which was now being held at the airport? And when she didn’t answer, did he think she was done with him?
Dejected, she’d taken a cab to her hotel, lightened with hope as she got her agent’s number from her email and called Judy to see if she could track down Dante’s agent. He or she would have Dante’s number. Judy was able to get the agent’s number, but unfortunately, the guy refused to give out Dante’s. At least he’d promised to give Dante Shayna’s the next time they talked. But he didn’t sound like he was in a hurry.
Impotent fury made her want to throw her phone across the room. Dante had to think she was avoiding him by now.
Look, we’ll figure that out with him when you go back to Sacramento to get your bags, her strong inner voice reasoned. But at least it looks like you’re going to win this case, and at least you’re finally learning to stand on your own feet.
Yeah, Shayna answered silently, but it’s been lonely.
Her first two days back in Oregon had been a whirlwind of activity and frenetic self-indulgence. When she wasn’t meeting with her attorney, she’d been shopping and test-driving cars. She’d even got a tattoo of a little rainbow because it reminded her of that wonderful song Dante sang. Her mom voice balked at that choice, but the other voices cheered it on.
Despite Shayna’s attempts to stay busy, she couldn’t get Dante out of her mind. No matter how tired she was, dreams of him haunted her as she slept and lingered long after she woke. She’d begun obsessively checking her phone to see if he’d gotten her message from his agent and called, or if her ringer was broken.
Her hope of hearing his voice was dying a little every day. By the end of the week, she could no longer pretend that she was happy with her independence. Unable to stop herself, she re-downloaded all of his songs so that he could sing her to sleep every night, and her desperation rose to a furious peak when, due to a cancellation, her hearing was moved up three days before she anticipated. That means it would be over sooner, too.
Where would she go afterward? She had been renting a car and living in a hotel room, intending to go back to Sacramento and get a house and her own car as soon as the trial was over; then maybe she and Dante could date on more equal footing. But since she’d been unable to get hold of him, that idea was fading. What if, by the time she made it back to him, he’d already moved on? The thought of moving back there only to have him reject her made her stomach churn with humiliation.
The trial was underway. Soon she would be cast adrift, with only the keening wail of her heart for company.
“Just because he didn’t perform here doesn’t mean he didn’t come here for other purposes,” Shawn’s lawyer was saying. “After all, I’m certain he has a life outside of his work.”
Not really, Shayna countered silently, remembering with a fond smile Dante’s long hours locked away in his basement studio. It had been such a blissful time, actually, she in that office writing while he wrote his songs below. Another stab of pain gripped her chest. It was doubtful she’d ever have such ideal working conditions again.
“We’ve been over this ad nauseum,” Shayna’s attorney replied. “My client—”
The door suddenly opened, and loud gasps filled the room. Shayna turned, and her heart lodged in her throat. Dante Deity strode in, dressed in a tailored Italian suit that likely cost more than the judge’s wardrobe. Rubies glinted on his cufflinks. His hair was pulled back, accentuating his sculpted cheekbones.
“Dante!” Shayna gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“I want my pillowcases back, among other things.” He gave her that melting smile then and moved to take a seat.
Shawn’s eyes bulged and his face reddened. He quivered so alarmingly that Shayna felt a pang of concern despite her utter loathing of the man. Her lawyer visibly vacillated between glee and confusion.
The courtroom echoed with shocked mutters and whispers. The judge picked up his gavel but then sighed and set it down. “I call a twenty-minute recess, so the court can return to order and the council can determine if they want to call another witness,” he boomed through the noise with as much authority as he could muster.
Shayna tried to make her way to Dante, but her lawyer intercepted him first, leading him out the door. A throng of spectators blocked her path, temporarily preventing her from following. When at last she did make it outside, her belly leapt as she spotted Dante and her attorney. They were tucked away in an alcove.
She pushed her way forward. When she reached him, he tucked his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She drowned in his gaze, her heart pounding. He looked back at her, and the world seemed to fall into a soft silence.
Her lawyer sighed. “You two can get a room later. For now we need to win this. To do that, you’re going to have to focus so I can ask Mr. Deity a few questions.”
It was difficult for Shayna to think of the case in the warmth of Dante’s presence, but she somehow managed, even though she was dying to explain about her stupid mistake with the pillowcases and to ask if he’d gotten her message. Dante told the story of how he’d met her, and how the relationship developed as he took care of her. When he was done, her attorney nodded.
“Well, it will be good to have a sworn statement that you two met after Shayna and the plaintiff were divorced, reiterating the fact that she was not committing adultery with you before he took his, ah, lover, as I am certain Mr. Jones’s counsel will try to imply.” Shayna’s lawyer’s expression sobered, making him look like a basset hound. “However, the circumstances in which the Ms. Gray came to Sacramento…well, I don’t know how to put this kindly, but there is a good chance that if those details come to light there could be an issue with Ms. Gray’s mental competence or stability.”
Shayna’s jaw dropped. “You mean they’ll say I’m crazy?”
“Well, in a legal sense…yes.” That hound-like face managed a weak smile. “However, I must say you appear perfectly sane to me, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I think the worst that could happen is the judge would then order you to undergo a psych evaluation. But that would tie things up longer.”
Dante put his arm around her. “It’s going to be okay, Shayna.” He looked at the lawyer. “Can you give us a minute?”
“Of course.” The attorney looked at the floor before looking back up and meeting his eyes. “Is there a chance I could get your autograph later? I used to be a huge fan.”
“Used to be?” Dante raised a brow, but his smile was teasing.
The attorney shifted uncomfortably. “I, well, my wife, you know…”
The rock star grinned. “Of course. As long as you keep doing Shayna good.”
The lawyer nodded and heade
d to the restroom. “Well, I’ll leave you alone for now.”
Finally alone with Dante and trembling, Shayna met his gaze, taking in his beautiful features as if she would be blinded at any moment.
He spoke before she could. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
A self-deprecating laugh tumbled from her lips. “The stupid pillowcases. They wouldn’t let me take them on the plane. My phone was in there. And when I got a new one, I didn’t know the old number.” She shook her head. “I need to catch up to the world and get the hang of that cloud backup thing the guy at the phone store was lecturing me about. Then I would have had your numbers too. Anyway, did you get the message I left your agent?”
Dante shook his head, visibly relieved at her explanation. “I just decided I wasn’t letting you go so easily. Anyway, I have something for you,” he said softly, reaching into his pocket. “Hold out your hand.”
She obeyed and frowned when he placed several pieces of torn paper in her outstretched palm. Closer scrutiny revealed that it was the remains of the check she wrote him. Shayna looked back up at Dante in confusion, her lips moving, struggling to form a response.
He silenced her with a level stare. “We’ll discuss that later, but for now I’ll just say that I warned you what would happen if you tried to repay me.”
Shayna reeled in puzzlement.
He held a velvet-covered box. She gave him a questioning look, which he returned with a knowing smile. Her hands shook as she opened the box, revealing an opulent sapphire necklace.
Memories of his joking threats to buy her jewelry returned, and a lump in her throat formed, eyes burning with unshed tears. “But…,” she whispered.
Dante took the box back and grinned. “If you argue with me, I may have to buy a ring sooner than is appropriate.”
He fastened the pendant around her neck as she clamored for a response. Her heart pounded and her skin tingled in exhilaration at his touch. A ring, did he seriously mean that—?
“You do still have that blue dress, right?” he asked as casually as if they were acquaintances at a dinner party.
“But you said you’d never go chasing after a woman,” Shayna whispered, drowning in his gaze.
Dante shook his head. “I said I’d never do it as a game.” He reached out and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “This isn’t a game, Shayna. You need me to be here for you, don’t you?”
“Yes!” The gasp tore from her throat.
“Say it again.” The command didn’t match the pleading look in his eyes.
Dante needed to be needed, she realized. So, in a way, he needed her too. That understanding swelled warm feeling in her heart, blossoming like the most beautiful rose in the world.
“I need you,” she said firmly, and launched herself into his arms, tears of happiness brimming in her eyes. “I need you, Dante.” She stiffened as a thought came to her. “But what about your tour?” she asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for it?”
“Shhh. I’ve been a selfish ass for too long. You come first now.” He inclined his head toward the courtroom door where her lawyer was beckoning. “We need to take care of this first.”
His warm, strong hand grasped hers, filling her with renewed confidence. No matter what happened, everything would be okay. Better than okay, since Dante was with her.
Chapter Twenty-three
The moment they entered the courtroom, Shawn leapt to his feet and snarled at Dante. “Who do you think you are, you devil-worshiping freak? I bet you’re just with her to leech off of her money.”
Dante just laughed and stared him down until he reddened and looked away, aware of the stupidity of his statement. Dante then turned to Shayna and smiled. “We have yet to frolic naked in the moonlight like proper devil-worshippers. I shall have to correct that oversight.”
Shayna giggled as her ex’s eyes bulged. “Shayna-baby,” he said cajolingly, desperately, “Why—?”
She cut him off, and that strong voice in her head finally came from her lips. “Don’t you ever call me that again. I always hated it. In fact, I think I hated everything about you. You’re a selfish bastard, and you treated me like shit. When this is over, I hope I never see you again.”
Barely resisting the urge to spit on Shawn, she took Dante’s arm and marched to her seat, feeling like an enormous weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Well,” Dante whispered in her ear, making her tingle. “Seeing that made it all worth it.”
The judge took his seat, and Dante was immediately called to the stand. He had to pound his gavel several times due to the excited whispers of the spectators; news traveled fast and there were twice as many as before.
Eventually, Dante was able to testify. He said that he hadn’t met Shayna until after her divorce was finalized. He did a beautiful job glossing over the facts, really, and over the circumstances leading up to the night they first met, but his effort was to no avail. With a smug smile Shawn’s lawyer approached the bench, holding two pieces of paper.
“I believe you are forgetting something, Mr. Deity. Please tell the court what condition the defendant was in when you first met her, and do remember that you are under oath.”
A chill ran down Shayna’s spine. This was what they had feared. Would the judge now look at her like she was a lunatic? What would that mean for the disposition of the case?
Dante didn’t flinch. He answered the question calmly, as if he were discussing the weather. “She was exhausted and had blisters on her feet. I took her to the hospital.”
Shawn’s lawyer grinned like a rabid shark. “But it was a little more serious than that. Allow me to refresh your memory.” He showed Dante the papers. “My client received this insurance claim report in the mail two weeks after the incident. Attached is a copy of the hospital’s treatment statement. This is your signature on the copay receipt, correct?”
When Dante nodded, the attorney presented the papers to the judge. “Ms. Gray was treated for extreme fatigue and multitudes of blisters from walking a great distance. From the enormity of the sores, it could be speculated that the defendant actually walked from her former home in Portland all the way to Sacramento.”
The judge’s brows rose almost to his hairline, and he lowered his spectacles to look at Shayna. “Did you?” he asked.
Shayna didn’t think anyone was supposed to ask her anything unless she was on the stand, but this was the judge and she wasn’t about to make him mad. Oh God, now I’m going to lose this thing.
“Yes, your honor,” she said weakly, so embarrassed she wished she could sink into a hole.
Shawn’s lawyer swiveled his pudgy neck to give her a smirk before turning back to the judge. “I believe this new evidence should lead us to question the defendant’s mental capacity at the time she filled out and submitted the divorce papers.”
Dante was questioned briefly on Shayna’s sanity and emotional stability. He declared that she had been mentally competent from the moment they met, and talked about her professionalism and dedication to her writing. “Any mother would suffer a bout of depression after losing a child, especially if her husband was not supportive…and was in fact having an affair in the midst of a tragedy like that. I think leaving such a selfish and disloyal spouse like Mr. Jones was the sanest thing she could do,” he finished with a smile.
Shawn leapt up from his seat. “You’re one to talk, you fu—”
“Silence!” the judge thundered. “Mr. Jones, you will be silent or you will be charged with contempt of court. The witness is dismissed from the stand and we will take a half hour recess while I deliberate.”
Everyone’s eyes seemed to bore holes in Shayna’s back as Dante led her out of the courtroom, holding tight to her hand. She clung to his grasp like a ship at anchor in a whirling storm. It was the longest half hour of her life.
“What if he wins?” she asked, huddled with Dante on a bench outside the door.
He shrugged and traced his finger
in lazy circles on her palm. “So what if he does? It’s not like we can’t afford whatever he’s asking. It’s only money—and it’s not going to make him happy. Only your humiliation and degradation would, and we’ve cheated him of that. We’ve even given a little back.”
We. The word made Shayna’s heart surge with warmth.
Dante looked up and frowned. A woman with a plastic ID tag on her lapel was walking towards the courtroom, giving them an avid stare, and he clearly didn’t like it.
“The press is here,” he said. “No doubt they’re gathered outside with their cameras.” Giving her hand another reassuring squeeze, Dante continued, “Now, you don’t have to comment them, but you should do your best to look happy at the end of this.” With a wicked gleam in his eyes he added, “And maybe I’ll give Mr. Jones something to watch on TV tonight.”
Shayna smiled back. “I am happy, Dante…now that you’re here. I missed you so much that it hurt.”
His smile faded as he took her hands. “When I came home to find you gone, I thought it would kill me. I should have brought my cell so you could call me. I should have told you how I felt about you from the start. I should have been clearer in communicating with you and told you all of my plans.”
“Plans?” she inquired.
“Well, now that I’m here, I suppose I’ll still surprise you when this trial is finished.” He gave her the smile that she’d despaired of ever seeing again. His eyes smoldered, sending heat to her lower body before he brushed his lips across hers. “I can’t wait to get out of here so I can really kiss you.”
She felt like one of the heroines in her novels, at the verge of swooning from his words. A movement in the corner of her vision brought the world back into clarity, but it wasn’t Shawn’s baleful glare from across the hall that caught her attention. It was the sight of the woman with him.
Shawn must have made the girl wait outside. Shayna almost didn’t recognize her without her Pepsi uniform—or nude, as she’d seen in the pictures emailed to Shawn. Too bad Shayna hadn’t saved them. Shawn’s lawyer had regaled their affair to hearsay. Her name was either Laura or Lauren; Shayna couldn’t remember which. Not that it mattered.