“After seeing him in the same room with Mr. Simons,” she paused dramatically, pointedly glanced at the balding defendant, and flicked her hand dismissively. His noticeable paunch and thinning gray hair spoke to his middle-age and he looked small behind the large table, his medium frame at best standing four inches below six feet. She looked back at Mr. Jackson, then glanced at the jury with a sad shake of her head, “do I really need to answer that question?”
The audience and several of the jury members chuckled. She grinned at her husband who answered with a flash of his perfect white teeth. Without having to be asked, Beth turned serious.
“The answer to your question is no. I was not the aggressor, nor was I interested in exploring anything remotely personal with the defendant, Mr. Simons.”
Ethan, who was seated next to Steven, leaned back enjoying the proceedings. Beth was an imp. She was playing to the judge, the jury and the audience, and they were all lapping it up like a kitten with a bowl of cream. He couldn’t believe the arrogance of Walt Simons and his partners for not settling. That they thought they had a snowball’s chance of winning, amazed him. The courtroom was packed and the media circus was in full furor both inside and out, which would make their humiliation, when it inevitably came, very public. Ethan would find that most entertaining. He settled back in his chair to watch the show as Jackson continued his ineffective cross examination.
“So, you did not proposition my client for sex in exchange for a partnership opportunity?”
“Objection. Asked and answered, your honor. How many ways does Ms. Anderson need to say she was not interested in Mr. Simons and did not initiate, scheme, propose, or suppose in order to exchange sexual favors to advance her career at Wolfe, Williams & Simons?”
Beth shuddered delicately as if she was repulsed by the mere thought of sex with the slimy defendant. Ethan bit back a grin as all eight women of the jury grimaced in obvious agreement.
“Sustained. Mr. Jackson,” the judge asked impatiently. “Do you have a new line of questioning, because I am getting tired of your redundancy.”
“No further questions.”
“Thank God for small favors,” the judge murmured in an undertone, but her voice carried to the jury and the front row where Ethan and Steven sat. They chuckled, Ethan’s smile broadening as Lanie turned around and gave them a covert wink.
He was so proud of her. Jackson hadn’t taken one legal stance that she hadn’t objected to or shot down. Except for the wink, her ice queen demeanor hadn’t cracked. She’d allowed Beth to play the sympathetic victim while she remained cool and collected, proving herself to be proficient and credible to the judge, spectators, and most importantly, the jury.
“We’ll break for lunch,” Judge Studor announced, “and reconvene at one o’clock. Counsel, I’ll see you in my chambers.”
As the gavel fell, he was sure the judge had at long last had enough of this absurdity.
*
“Eight plaintiffs, all young, beautiful and very sympathetic, especially the widow with three kids, and the girl next door from Iowa who is a dead ringer for Marianne from Gilligan’s Island. All with believable and consistent stories against a disgusting serial predator and his cronies who protected him by covering it up, or at the very least, looking the other way. What are we doing here, Mr. Jackson? Why hasn’t this case been settled?”
Lanie tried not to show her amusement as she watched Bert Jackson squirm beneath Victoria’s scrutiny. She hoped she was never on the receiving end of that cutting tongue. She might be her friend, but she was intimidating in her judicial robes and showed no favoritism whatsoever.
“Uh, my clients—”
“Will lose, Mr. Jackson. Convince them to settle and get this ridiculous, although entertaining charade, out of my courtroom.”
Jackson stared at her in surprise, then glanced at Lanie.
“Bert, this can’t be easy for you, especially with Simons pulling the strings. But think of your future and get them to make this go away. Work on Williams and Wolfe, they have the most to lose now that Walt is incarcerated.”
“I’ll go talk to them again.” He headed for the door, but paused, glanced back at Lanie and asked, “You wouldn’t need another litigator at your firm, would you?”
“Sorry,” she said with a curt shake of her head, “we’re a women’s law firm. No boys allowed.”
He gaped at the judge. “Is that legal?”
Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she answered. “Since all the attorneys are partners, she can be as picky as she wants. Sorry, Counselor.”
After he’d left to go find his clients, the judge asked Lanie with a grin, “Did I date myself with the Gilligan’s Island reference?”
“No way. I watched TV Land for five days when I was home with the flu. I thought Marianne got the short end of the stick. She was so much cuter than Ginger.”
“I watched it in prime time as a kid,” Vicki lamented with the shake of her head. “I keep forgetting I’m old.” She looked at Lanie, all kidding aside. “Jackson’s got a point. You may want to take on a token male for appearance sake and to keep the EEOC off your back. It doesn’t have to be another attorney, however.”
“Good, because I can’t think about working with a man after all this crap with WW&S.”
“I can understand how this whole experience hasn’t endeared male attorneys to you. There are good ones out there. I promise.”
“You mean besides the sexy man who sat behind me in court today?”
“Yeah. You’ve got a good one in Ethan, Lanie. Not many husbands are so supportive. I was glad to see him there for you, and not just for the eye candy he provided. Although I think it was part of your jury strategy to dress both Ethan and Steven in Brooks Brothers and seat them in the first row. Juror number eleven was very distracted. I almost had to say something.”
“I won’t tell Ethan you think of him as eye candy, Vicki. His professorial dignity might be bruised.” Lanie quipped with a grin.
“I doubt it, and I see that you aren’t denying it either.”
As Lanie rose to leave, she leaned in and whispered, “Whose idea do you think it was in the first place, Vicki?”
She’d made it to the door, when Vicki stopped laughing long enough to call to her.
“Wait. Speaking of your sexy man, when are you and Ethan coming out to the beach house again? Ray and I would love to have you two join us for a weekend before the snows hit. He loves to pick Ethan’s brain and debate him on the rules of law, particularly since I won’t do it anymore. While the men deliberate, we can relax, drink wine, build a bonfire on the beach, go shopping.”
“I didn’t know that was your place.”
“Ethan didn’t tell you? He mentioned to Ray he was looking at rentals and naturally Ray offered ours. We don’t get out to The Cape as often as we’d like and would rather the house be enjoyed than sit empty.”
“We’d loved to go back. We had a wonderful time, the town was charming and the house and beach were absolutely beautiful. We didn’t want to leave. Let me talk to Ethan about his schedule and get back to you. Are we still on for the theater on Saturday?”
“Certainly.”
As Lanie turned again to leave, a thought occurred to her. Glancing back, she asked, “Is it a conflict of interest with you presiding over my cases? I mean, since we’re friends and all?”
“Absolutely not. Between Ray and myself, we have socialized with just about every lawyer over thirty in the city. It is inevitable that we both preside over friends’ cases, and recusal is rarely necessary. It happened once when Ray had a business arrangement with one of the attorneys appearing before me. Opposing counsel made a stink about that connection when he lost. This was some time ago, mind you. As attorneys before appointment to the bench, our circle of friends includes mostly lawyers, judges, and other people in the legal community. If we avoided everyone we might run into in court, either we’d have no friends, or the docket would be backed up wor
se than it is now while waiting for a judge with no connection. Anyway, the idiot challenged my impartiality with the chief justice, but that was the last time.”
Lanie chuckled; they didn’t call her Judge Studor the Barracuda for nothing. After firming up plans for Saturday, Lanie went to find Ethan, Beth and Steven to grab a bite of lunch before reconvening.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bounding onto the bed like a kid, Lanie bounced a few more times for good measure setting the mattress in motion. She laughed as she jostled Ethan enough that he lost his grip on his book, which fell to the floor with a thud. Unperturbed, he retrieved it and set it aside. As she curled into him, he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t expect her to settle yet, and smiled as she proved him right by chattering with excitement.
“A half million each, Ethan. Can you believe it? They had to pay out four million dollars.”
“And deserved to pay more. I’m so proud of you, Lanie. You were awesome today.”
“Why, thank you, honey,” raising up on an elbow, she beamed down at him, “coming from you, that is a wonderful compliment.”
“It’s not undue praise. Watching you today was amazing. You lit up the courtroom. Your motions were killer and your cross was dead on. In under two hours you pinned Simons and his cronies into a corner so expertly that they had no option but to settle. The best part, you had the jury eating out of your hand.”
“Except when Beth was batting her big baby blues, then they only had eyes for her. She was so good.”
“She was cute, but you were captivating. Anytime you spoke, crossed your legs or tapped your pen against those sexy red lips, all eyes were on you—even the women.”
Unable to sit still, Lanie rolled on top of him and straddled his hips. Sitting up, she flung her arms wide, her grin irrepressible. “Oh, Ethan, they never stood a chance. With eight female plaintiffs, nine women on the jury, a lady judge and me, the hot lady lawyer”—she smoothed her hands down her sides, molding her nightie seductively to her body as she did so, then gave an exaggerated flip of her hair and giggled”—the estrogen levels alone ensured a favorable verdict.”
He steadied her at the hips, his eyes glinting with amusement as he grinned up at her. “If I didn’t know how much the bastards deserved what they got, I’d feel sorry for them. They were grossly outmatched. I know WW&S is ruing the day they underestimated Melanie Fischer.”
“And what a comeuppance for Simons, with disbarment, a felony conviction, jail time, restitution and now these civil damages to the tune of four million dollars… yeah, I’d say poor ol’ Walt is having a bad year.”
The last was said in such a deadpan fashion, that they stared at each other for a second before breaking out into howls of laughter. When they calmed enough to catch their breath, Ethan pulled her down to his chest and wrapped her up in a firm hug.
“It amazes me how my sweet, playful Lanie who is soft and loving as a kitten in my arms, can be the Ice Queen, the card carrying kick ass bitch in the courtroom that makes other attorneys quake in their shoes. I keep thinking about that old game show, ‘What’s my Line?’ Will the real Lanie Fischer, please stand up?”
She pushed up from his chest to gape down at him. She couldn’t believe he’d said that. Tears stung her eyes as she looked away. That he felt he didn’t know her was a blow.
“Lanie.” His hand came up to her face as he tried to make her look at him, but she resisted. “Hell, I didn’t mean to upset you. Forget I said anything.”
“I don’t understand. And I can’t forget it. What did you mean the real Lanie Fischer? Who do you think I am, Ethan?”
“I love you, Lanie, absolutely, but I worry and wonder—When I think back on all the changes you’ve been through over the past year, my concern is that they weren’t what you would have chosen for yourself.”
Perplexed by the question, she stared down at him for a moment before she answered. The Deevers trial, leaving WW&S, the new practice, all had been pivotal moments in the past year that had set her on a new course in her career. But fate often steps in when you least expect it. “Of course, I wouldn’t have chosen them for myself, but circumstances made it necessary, don’t you think?”
It was Ethan’s turn to be surprised. A wounded look followed, flashing for a split second in his eyes, before he masked it. Lanie saw the quick procession of emotions cross his face. Still at a loss, she struggled for clarity. He’d supported her through all of the changes, especially when she left WW&S, so why was he suddenly uncertain that it wasn’t what she wanted. Especially when it was a done deal and Simons and his partners had been hung out to dry.
His voice was unusually strained when he spoke. “The role-play was to give you an outlet for the emotions you kept bottled up inside and to help you deal with the stress. I loved you then, as you were. Before we started this you were already a successful attorney, stressed out, but well on your way to being one of the best in Boston. I never wanted to change you, Lanie, and I sure as hell didn’t want you to change for me. I want you to be you, not what you think I want you to be. Hell! I’m making a mess of this.”
“I didn’t mean… I thought—Wait.” Her brow creased and her eyes narrowed as she tried to make sense of his convoluted statement. It made her head hurt, but it seemed they were on two different tangents. Needing clarification, her eyes cut to his. “What are you talking about? I was talking about the changes with my career, not with me, or with us.”
His jaw dropped a moment, then it snapped shut, as he tilted his head thoughtfully. “I’ve seen many changes, not realizing how much until seeing you in action today. You had big career goals, they’re the reason you joined a large firm from the get go. I can’t help wondering where you would be now, if I hadn’t pushed you to leave your job, to branch out on your own, to deal with your emotions in a vastly different way and if I hadn’t changed you. I don’t want to hold you back, Lanie, ever.”
“Ethan, you were there today, watching me take down the biggest firm in Boston. How could you possibly think you were holding me back? I have changed, but for the better, I think, and you were the trigger that brought about that change. I don’t see how that’s a problem. I don’t understand where all this coming from.”
“The woman I saw in the courtroom today is not my Lanie. She was shrewd, calculating, cold—the complete opposite of the woman I love. Explain to me how two such diametrically opposed characters can reside in one small body.”
“That’s it exactly, Ethan. It’s a character.”
He stiffened, another glimmer of hurt flashing in his eyes. That’s when she knew he had it all wrong. But how did she explain it to him? An idea came to her. She leaned in and kissed him. “I think I understand what’s going on. Hang on, I want to show you something.”
Throwing aside the tangle of covers around her legs, Lanie scrambled off the bed and went to the desk in the corner. She opened a drawer, shuffled through it, and then opened another. “Where did I put that?” She mumbled as she pulled out yet another drawer. “Here it is.”
Padding soundlessly on bare feet across the carpeted floor, she brought him a glossy yellow booklet. Sitting beside him, she looked on as he stared at the playbill for “Applause.” Her name with only a few others appeared under the word cast in bold letters.
His eyes shifted to her in surprise. “This is from Boston College. You studied drama?”
She snorted. “Are you kidding? Dad would have had a conniption fit. He said I should have had my fill with such nonsense in high school.” Her voice lowered as she mimicked her father, then she sighed wistfully. “We did ‘Oklahoma’ my senior year. I got to sing, which I loved.” Glimmers of her short lived dramatic career came flooding back. It was fleeting, but very special.
“Lanie.”
Glancing up, she realized he’d been watching her closely as she skipped down memory lane. She shook her head, casting away the shadows of her memories. “Sorry. I don’t think I ever told you, that as a child,
I dreamed of becoming an actor. For me, lawyers were stiff, stern faced men in suits who came to see my Dad, smoke smelly cigars, and talked about boring things I couldn’t relate to. But movie and TV stars, they had fun, excitement, went to faraway places. That’s what appealed to me. The only reason I got to do that play in college,” she nodded at the playbill, “was that I had to take a fine arts course; it was a requirement for my major. Dad wanted me to take art history.” she pulled a face as if she were yawning. “What a snoozefest. I took theater instead.”
“I’m not following.”
“Have you seen the play? It’s based on ‘All about Eve.’”
“I saw the movie, but it was years ago.”
“Mm, you missed out, although Bette Davis was very good. I can still hear her sneeringly precise voice saying, ‘Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.’ That was such a great line.”
“Lanie, what does this have to do with us?”
“Oh, sorry. Seeing this made me nostalgic.” She took the playbill from him, her hands smoothing the tattered corners, as new less pleasant memories emerged. “Dad never came to see it. He missed ‘Oklahoma’ too, and ‘Up the Down Staircase,’ which we did in my junior year. Although my part in that was really small.”
Shifting to her knees, she stretched and set the playbill on the nightstand returning to lean into his side. She pressed her palm against his chest and idly stroked the smattering of coarse dark curls with her fingertips. “Don’t get me wrong. Dad loved me, in his own way, but he was expecting a boy. Someone with the same drive and killer instinct that he had. But he got a girly girl and a dreamer. His career goals for a daughter were as ambitious, still I was expected to get good grades. College and subsequently law school weren’t an option for me, it was a mandate. Dad was a powerful and influential man who didn’t like to be questioned. So I didn’t and dutifully studied law. Knowing I was headed that way I used drama to escape.” She looked up and met his worried gaze.
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