One Night With You

by Gwynne Forster

  “Something tells me that if you want to win a case in this town, you might need some local friends. You never know what’s in the back of a juror’s mind.” He held her coat for her, and she had to resist the urge to move away from him. The man’s aura was getting to her. She’d never shied away from men, but whenever she was close to this one, she got the feeling that she was about to step into a pool of hot quicksand. She turned, buttoning her coat, and he remained there, inches from her. She sucked in her breath and he stepped away from her in a move that said he did not want to become involved.

  “Did you see a white plastic bag at your place?” he asked her, as if she had imagined that tense moment.

  “About like this?” She held out her hands to suggest a space of about fourteen inches wide.

  He nodded. “That could be it.”

  “I think I saw it on the kitchen counter.”

  He put on his leather jacket and walked out with her. When they reached the curb, a caravan of motorcycle riders approached, and he grabbed her hand, restraining her. “Let’s wait till the last one passes,” he said. “Sometimes they’ll observe this crosswalk, but usually they won’t.”

  She prayed in silence, “Please turn loose my hand.” The last motorcycle passed, and he released her hand, as unceremoniously as if he’d never touched it. She had an urge to smack him.

  “I’ll get your bag,” she said as they entered the house.

  “Thanks. I’ll wait right here.” She brought the bag that obviously contained a tablet of some kind. “Why didn’t you come back for it?”

  “I didn’t want to disturb you. Thanks.” He had his hand on the doorknob and a grin on his face when he said, “Good luck tomorrow, Your Honor,” and treated her to a wink. As usual, he didn’t waste his breath saying more, but turned and left.

  “I wonder what a full dose of that man’s charisma would be like,” she said aloud, “but I am not anxious to find out.”

  Chapter 2

  Kendra locked her front door and sat down on the sofa in her living room, contemplating the enigma that was Reid Maguire. He didn’t want an involvement with her, and probably not with anyone else, but if, as she suspected, he hadn’t had a woman in his life for a while, he’d be as tempted as she was. Those were not terms that she cared for.

  “I’ve got two problems,” she said aloud, “and I’ll probably solve my relationship with this community before I get Reid Maguire out of my blood.” It didn’t help that he was starting over, as it were, struggling to reach the pinnacle of his profession. That meant that she would empathize with him because, in some respects, she was doing the same. She went up to her bedroom, took a black robe from the closet and examined it. Deciding not to wear a lace collar with it, she chose a white satin open-collared dickey. Her eight-year-old black patent leather boots would have to do because she’d broken a heel on her more presentable ones. Where was that box of jelly beans? She found it in a kitchen drawer, filled a plastic sandwich bag with some of the beans, put them into her briefcase, and considered herself equipped for work. She seldom allowed herself to be without a bag of jelly beans.

  She reread the background information that the clerk had sent her on the first case, the suit of a woman who had bought a diamond bracelet over the Internet, had had it appraised and been advised that it was worthless. Unfortunately for the woman, she’d paid heavily for it. Either the buyer or the seller would learn a lesson.

  She awakened the next morning after a restful night, got ready for her first day at work, made coffee and her thoughts immediately went to Reid who, she knew, had to settle for a cup of instant. She walked up Albemarle Heights thinking that she was fortunate to have found a house so close to her work, and so her mood was bright and cheerful when she entered the courthouse and showed her badge to the guard. The man nodded, but she wasn’t sure toward which direction.

  “Where is chamber 6A?” she asked him, and he pointed to his left with his thumb much as one uses the thumb to hitch a ride.

  She could feel her temper rising. “I am the judge in charge of this court,” she told him, “and nobody who works here should be rude to me and expect to keep his or her job. If you’ve got your behind on your shoulder because I bought a house in Albemarle Gates, it tells me how foolish you are. I came here looking for a house, found one and bought it. Neither you nor anybody else in this town put an ad in the paper or a sign near that property advertising your objection to that housing. So show me your best face and tell all of your colleagues to do the same, or this courthouse will have a completely new slate of employees. And soon! Now, where is chamber 6A?”

  She had never seen a colder stare. “Yes, ma’am. Right over here, ma’am,” he said and walked with her to the elevator. “Sixth floor, and turn right.”

  “That wasn’t difficult, was it?” she said and got on the elevator without waiting for his answer.

  Fortunately, her clerk showed better judgment. “Good morning, Judge Rutherford. I’m Carl Running Moon Howard, your clerk. Court begins at ten, unless you’d like the time changed, and ends at three. We have an hour for lunch. Here are the keys to your chambers. How do you like your coffee?”

  “Good morning, Carl. I’m delighted to meet you. That’s the warmest greeting I’ve received since I came to Queenstown. I like it black without sugar. Thank you.”

  “I know, ma’am. It’s too bad you didn’t know about those burial grounds. It’s gotten to be political, and people are taking sides. I hate this kind of thing, ma’am.”

  “So do I, Carl. I saw ads in the papers for the houses, came here and drove throughout the city looking to see what else was available, and that suited me best. I had no way of knowing what that builder had done. I’d give anything if I hadn’t bought there, but I am there, and I’ve put my money in it. So I’m staying.”

  “People will soon know what kind of person you are, ma’am. I’ll get you some coffee. Incidentally, the previous judge had a little microwave oven, mini-refrigerator and coffeepot in that little storage room over there. It came in handy I don’t know how many times. Your cases for today are in that black incoming-mail box.”

  He brought the coffee, and she studied her morning cases until she’d satisfied herself that she understood them and the hoopla surrounding them. The clerk had included half a dozen newspaper clippings about the cases she would hear that morning.

  The jury had already been selected, and the morning session began normally enough, but within the hour, she found it necessary to put the defendant’s attorney in his place.

  “Would counsel approach the bench,” she said after he ignored her mild reprimand.

  “What may I do for you?” he asked.

  Shocked, she quoted to him a section of the law that specified the conditions under which a trial lawyer may be cited for contempt. “I won’t hesitate to do it,” she said. “In fact, I’d enjoy doing it. It’s best not to play with me. Your client’s in bad enough trouble as it is. Do I make myself clear?”

  With his face flushed and his lower lip sagging, he said, “I’m sorry, Your Honor. Please accept my apology.”

  “I take it you told him what was what,” Carl said to her after she adjourned the court for lunch. “He was the attorney for a builder who tried to get that Albemarle Gates property and failed.”

  “How did Brown and Worley get it?”

  “They say it was bribery, ma’am, but who knows?”

  The lawyer for the plaintiff brought four expert witnesses to prove that the diamonds in the bracelet were, in fact, zircons, and the jury’s guilty verdict did not surprise her. She agreed with it.

  She left the court longing to tell Reid how her first day went. But why should he care? She went home, turned up the heat, changed into jeans and a sweater and gave some thought to what she would cook for her dinner. She had never been the object of scorn, and knowing that she was made her want to reach out to someone who cared. Dumping her troubles on her sister didn’t make sense, for Claudine woul
d stagger beneath the burden of it as if the problem were her own.

  She scrubbed a potato, dried it, patted it with olive oil, rolled it in a piece of paper towel and put it in the microwave oven. She was staring into the frozen food section of her refrigerator when the telephone rang. Please, God, don’t let that be a harasser.

  “Hello.”

  “This is Reid. How was your first day?”

  “Reid! I wanted to call you…I mean, I wanted to tell you about it.”

  “Well, how’d it go?”

  “Good and bad.”

  “You’re going to explain that?”

  Why was she so nervous? “Wait a minute and let me get a chair.” She put the phone down, rushed to the kitchen for a swallow of water, dragged a chair to the console on which the phone rested and sat down. “I’m back. Well, first the guard was rude to me when I walked into the building, but a few choice words subdued him. I have a really nice and competent clerk, a Native American man, who’s gracious and helpful. But I had to put the defendant’s attorney in his place with the threat of contempt. Seems he was the attorney for a builder who tried unsuccessfully to get permission to build on the Albemarle Gates property. Have you heard that Brown and Worley bribed anyone to get that permit?”

  “They’ve been accused of it, but the accusation didn’t hold up. I suspect you’ve had all the problems you’re going to have at court—news travels fast. All the same, it pays to watch your back.”

  “It’s not a good feeling, Reid, knowing that people don’t like you although you’ve done nothing to earn their dislike. Besides, I’m a people person. I smile at folks, and I expect them to smile back, but nobody’s smiling at me here.”

  “Nobody?” She imagined that his eyebrows shot up. “I smiled.”

  “Yes, you did.” She settled more comfortably in the chair. “At least once.”

  Laughter rumbled out of him, and she wished she could have been with him then to see those lights dancing in his eyes. “If I had another potato,” she said, throwing prudence to the wind, “I’d ask if you wanted to share my supper.”

  “What goes with the one you’ve got?”

  “Steak burger seasoned with onions, egg, mustard, ketchup and Maggi sauce, fresh asparagus and a mesclun salad.”

  “I’ve got an Idaho potato, if that would persuade you to follow through with that idea. And I’m pretty good at cleaning up the kitchen.”

  “You wouldn’t consider scrubbing that potato before you bring it over, would you?”

  “You bet. Uh…what time would you like to have the potato?”

  “About a quarter of seven.”

  “Great. By the way, does Her Honor drink wine with her steak burger?”

  “Whenever she has it in the house.”

  “See you later. And thanks, Kendra.”

  She hung up and sat there for some minutes contemplating what she’d just done. For a woman who didn’t want a relationship with the man, she had all but initiated one with that invitation. Oh, I’m not going to exorcise myself about it. He’s not married, and he’s good company. Besides, he’s interested or he wouldn’t have called me. She started down to the basement for some firewood in order to build a fire in the living-room fireplace and stopped. Suppose his case came before her! She shouldn’t develop a relationship with Reid knowing that, if his plan succeeded, he’d have a case before her within the next ten months. Oh, what the heck, I can recuse myself.

  She toyed with the idea of changing her clothes to look more respectable, but discarded it. She looked perfectly fine in her jeans and sweater, and if she put on anything sexy, he’d think she was coming on to him, and he’d be right. Still, she combed her hair down, put a pair of medium-sized gold hoops in her ears and set the dining-room table.

  Her doorbell rang precisely at a quarter to seven and she wondered if he’d been standing at the door looking at his watch so that he could do that. She opened the door and got a sharply raised eyebrow from him.

  “Hi. I’d have whistled, if I hadn’t thought it would be rude. You look…like a pretty teenager.”

  “Oh. Thanks. You mean the jeans?”

  His expression suggested that she was unreal. “I mean the whole package.” He handed her the potato, scrubbed and unwrapped, and a bag containing a bottle of wine. “I hope you like Châteauneuf du Pape.”

  “I’m not an aficionado of fine wine, Reid. I go to the liquor store and ask for chardonnay if I want white or Chianti if I want red, so I’ll look forward to this one.”

  “It’s smooth. I think of it as a red that suits a lady.”

  “That’s the second nice compliment you’ve given me in the ten minutes you’ve been here. After the bashing my ego’s had in this town, I needed it. Now, come on in the kitchen with me and behave yourself.”

  “Whatta you mean by that?”

  “I mean if you keep saying such nice things, you’ll have me in such a stupor that you won’t get any dinner.”

  “Now, you behave. Where do you want this potato?” She held out her hand. “Whoops!” she said when she felt the electric static that passed between them.

  He stared at her, and she turned away, went to the counter and began greasing the potato with olive oil. She’d made an enormous mistake, and she had to spend the evening with it.

  “What are you doing to that potato?” His voice was too close, so close that she didn’t dare turn to the left or to the right. Dear God, please don’t let him touch me.

  “Just what it looks like. Here. Wrap it in a piece of paper towel and put it in that microwave oven.”

  “Where’s the paper towel?”

  “It’s…Oh, I don’t know.”

  “Turn around here.” His hands gripped her shoulders, but they turned her gently. “Come here.”

  His grayish-brown eyes had become thunderheads heralding what she knew would be a violent storm. She didn’t know what he saw in her eyes, but at that moment she wanted him. He pulled her close and lowered his head so slowly that she reached up and with her hand at his nape, guided his mouth to hers. His lips trembled as they crushed hers. His groans sent shivers throughout her body, sending her blood rushing to her vagina, exciting her, and when he rimmed the seam of her lips with his tongue, she opened her mouth and sucked him into her, pulling on him, sucking and feasting. Her nerve ends seemed afire. If only she could crawl into him. The heat in her vagina rose with the seconds, and something akin to an itch demanded friction. Oh, how she wanted him skin to skin, his chest to her breasts, and his penis buried deep inside her. She pulled his tongue and sucked it vigorously until he suddenly pushed her away.

  As if he feared that he may have hurt her feelings, he brought her back to his embrace, but didn’t let his body touch hers. “I’ve been celibate for a long time, Kendra, and if anything ever happens between you and me, I want to be sure of the reason.”

  She wanted to tell him that nothing would happen between them, but after what she’d felt seconds earlier in his arms, she didn’t believe it and she didn’t feel like lying.

  Instead she said, “I could say the same, Reid. Take care of that potato for me, will you?” He didn’t move, so she glanced at him.

  “Have I…Are you…Is everything all right with you and me?” he asked her.

  She faced him. “Yes. You’re straight with me. Now we know where we stand.”

  He didn’t bat an eyelash. “We always knew, Kendra. Now we have to deal with it. Is that blue thing the microwave oven?”

  She couldn’t help laughing. He’d put demon desire in its proper place and expected that she would do the same. “Yes, that’s it, and I’d be happy if it was any other color.” Their simultaneous laughter cleared the air.

  “You could grow on me,” he said, and turned the kitchen chair around and straddled it.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Come now, Kendra.”

  “Reid, talking with you is like taking a true and false test. You don’t explain anything unless I pu
ll it out of you.”

  “When I was in my twenties, I didn’t appreciate your type of woman. Accomplished, cut and dried. What you see is what you get, and if you don’t like it, keep moving. You’re as straight as the crow flies and beautiful to boot.”

  “And I assume that means you like women who are honest.”

  A smile formed around his eyes, and she looked the other way. Did that man know how attractive he was? “Right. And beautiful. Don’t leave that out,” he said.

  She liked his sense of humor, and she was beginning to like him. “How do you like your burger? Medium or well done?”

  “Well done. May I watch you mix it up?”

  She agreed, and he stood beside her while she added the eggs, onions and seasoning to the ground beef, made three large patties, put a small amount of oil in the frying pan and set the meat to cooking. “That’s reasonable,” he said. “You put in them what we usually put on them after they’re cooked.” She turned on the microwave oven, raised the steam level under the asparagus, took the bowl of salad out of the refrigerator and put it on the table.

  “That didn’t take long, and you got everything ready at the same time. That’s a trick.”

  “I did the work before you got here, but took about fifteen minutes.”

  “Say, wait a minute,” he said. “Don’t put that food in serving dishes. I can serve myself right from the pots and pans. Remember, I’m the one who’s cleaning up.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. If I’m cleaning up, what I say goes.”

  She handed him a plate. “Two of those burgers are yours. I can only eat one. I’ll peel the potatoes.”

  “You can peel yours. I eat the skin. All I need for this potato is some butter and black pepper.”

  “Butter is not good for you,” she said, “so you’re getting a substitute that tastes like butter and has no trans fats.”

  The expression on his face was that of one thwarted in the course of a satisfying act. “But—”