“I can see that,” he stated. “What I don’t know is why?”
She shrugged. “I hate shoes and every chance I can get, they come off. I’m inside, so it’s okay. I think it started when I moved into my new house three years ago and the decorator my friends hired surprised me with this awesome place where I could find inner peace. So it’s decorated in an Asian style and I have tatami floor mats. Seeing how you’re Japanese, I don’t have to tell you what tatami flooring is made of...do I?”
“Miss Jones, true I am Japanese but aren’t you being a bit presumptuous? I was born in San Francisco,” Keigo pointed out, not sure why he felt it was necessary.
“So you don’t know what a tatami floor is?” She asked.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what’s your point in saying it at all?” She huffed. “I’m not Japanese nor was I born in Japan, but I respect and have learned about your culture.”
“Miss Jones, this is not your home and there are no tatami floorings in here, so please put back on your shoes. It’s not sanitary.”
“My feet are okay. I will wash them when I get home, so I’m not worried about germs,” she explained to him as if he was a dense child.
“I am. From your feet.”
“You can eat off my feet, thank you. I clean them just as much as the average person washes their hands. Would you like to see them? Let me--”
“Ms. Jones, don’t you dare move any further away from your assigned podium!”
The people in the audience laughed.
He blinked once…twice, the muscle in his cheeks worked over time as he bit down on his back teeth. “Miss Jones, need I remind you that you are currently in a court of law. It is appropriate that while you are in public you should wear shoes on your feet, and several places will not allow you entrance without shoes. This is one of them.”
“First, I didn’t ‘enter’ without my shoes. I just removed them a moment ago. Secondly, I understand how the conventional world—that I must suffer on a daily bases—works. I also can read and I didn’t see any signs on your courtroom door that require me to keep on my shoes.”
“You also didn’t read a sign to keep on your clothes, but I see you’re still wearing those,” Keigo pointed out.
She gave him an impish grin. “If it’s a problem, I can start shedding. I have a membership at the nude beach, so if you thought to intimidate me with that statement…”
Keigo thought about her being nude. He knew it was a mistake when it crossed his mind because it had been awhile since he’d been with a woman. So the mere thought of seeing her naked up close and personal brought on an unexpected semi-erection. He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat loudly.
Keigo simmered a little longer in silence before saying in a calm voice meant for a child, since she insisted on misbehaving like one, “Miss Jones, I believe we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”
The viewers in the courtroom laughed.
She cocked a perfectly arched eyebrow at him and placed her long slender fingers on her hips.
“No pun intended,” the corner of his mouth tipped up in a grin.
“Of course not,” she murmured.
“Miss Jones, how about you move back over to stand next to your shoes and allow me to proceed uninterrupted. If you can not abide by the rules of this court, I will be forced to do something I do not wish to do,” he reprimanded.
“I will do as you ask, if you do as I ask and call me Etta. I gave up all the trappings of my former life three years ago, including the use of my last name. Now I’m know legally as “Etta,” you know like, Cher.” Her full lips spread into a wide grin. “Since you’re throwing out threats, tell me Judge Handsome, what exactly are you threatening to do, exactly?”
His breath caught. She has a beautiful smile, he thought. He shook his head deciding he needed to get this over with and quick. His body was betraying him!
“You don’t want to know,” he murmured. “Now get back over there,” he pointed.
“Yeah. I do.”
“This is madness! Where is the director? Shouldn’t you be yelling cut or something?” Keigo bellowed with a deep scowl.
“Stop film!”
The director nearly skipped up to his bench. It was apparent he was pleased by the woman’s antics in his courtroom.
“Judge Keigo, just keep going like this. This is priceless! I couldn’t have done better if I had chosen an actress to come in here and stir things up.” He slapped the top of the bench and chuckled. “She is wonderful and she looks great on camera. That impish dimpled smile of hers caught us off guard. It was a priceless close-up shot and free to us. What more could you ask for?”
“Okay, I give you that. She does have an unassuming prettiness, but--” Keigo saw her laughing and shaking her head along with the chuckles of the audience and realized the entire courtroom was hearing everything. His face flushed red and he threw his hand over his attached microphone. “Dammit, Marco, I’ve had a long freakin’ day, my gut is killing me and I’m in no mood to continue this dancing with her any further. This should have been a cut and dry case, so just let me make my ruling and let’s call it a day!”
“Look, we’re friends so you know I’m not going to bullshit you on this.” Marco stated. It was a sign to Keigo that his friend was in a creative mode, seeing Emmy awards on his shelf. There was no way he was going to allow him to wrap this us quickly.
“Keigo, I know they’ve already spoken to you about renewing for twenty more episodes, but you know how fickle this business is. If I don’t pull off something grand, they may get a new director. Hey trust me.”
“Uh oh, you’re playing on the friendship and the ‘trust me’ card,” Keigo moaned. “It’s going to be a long afternoon isn’t it?”
“Come on, buddy. Haven’t I made you the hottest Judge on television? You have a huge viewing audience of women. They are going to love this episode!”
Keigo simmered.
“Keigo, you know I’m talking the truth, man. This episode will push you over the top. A real battle of the sexes! Sort of like Jerry Springer but real, you know.”
He knew Marco was right, but he didn’t have to be happy about it.
“After we get this finished and edited, I’m going to see if I can convince the network to air this as the last show of the season and make it like a cliffhanger. Your viewers won’t know the results until the first episodes of next season. It will be all the talk for the summer break and when you have your season premiere, the ratings will be dancing on the roof!”
“Hey! Excuse me! I know this is a TV show, but being one of the ‘real people’ in a ‘real case,’ I would like us to get on with it! I have a nail appointment scheduled.”
“Oh shit, now Mrs. Lewin is stirred up. That is all I need,” Keigo groaned.
“Oh, I was wondering why she was sitting on sideline! This is great. If she is good and pissed, then we are bound to hear more out of her.”
“Marco,” he called his name in a warning voice.
“No man, this is great. Go at it with the Ella chick a little longer. The later the Lewin broad is for her appointment, the more pissed she will be.” Marco slapped his hands together. “Quiet on the set! Rolling in 1, 2, 3…”
“Excuse me! Screw this! It’s my turn to say something,” Tanesha voiced. “I wrote in my complaint that this Ella woman was a nut case, Judge Kyou. Now you now see for yourself what I’ve been going through trying to get my freakin’ money back! I swear the mental bitch needs to pay me more for my mental stress!”
“Mrs. Lewin--” Keigo began and once more to his amazement— yet not really surprising— was the very vocal and saucy, Miss Jones, interrupting him.
“You’re spouting such hogwash Tanesha and you know it,” Etta yelled. “You know how I do. Now you are going to come up in this courtroom and pretend like you don’t know the deal.”
“Don’t talk to me you Redbone Bitch, tell it to the judge.” Tanesha threw
up a hand and turned her head.
Keigo wondered if they were for real. He had seen stuff like this happen on other’s shows, but never his. He was beginning to wonder if indeed Marco had staged all of this. Of course the case was real he had the official documents to prove it, but where did they find these people, in line at the Jerry Springer audition?”
“Ladies, please--”
“Tanesha, I told you several times that I needed to meet with you and the groom before the big day in order to get an accurate reading. It’s not my problem that he was too busy to show up in planning his own wedding,” Etta huffed. “You should have told me that the man you were marrying was Jewish. I can’t believe you would order pork knowing you were having a Baptist and Jewish styled wedding. I told you some people don’t do pork because it’s got a bad rap; go with something neutral like beef and chicken.”
“Pork has a reputation?” Keigo snorted on a laugh. Both women turned mean eyes on him and he clamped his mouth shut. He had completely lost control of his courtroom. He cut mean eyes towards Marco, sitting in the shadows. He hoped he was getting some good footage because he wasn’t going to allow this to continue much longer.
“Why in the hell should I have to tell you anything? Aren’t you the one with your own cooking show called The Psychic Chef?” Tanesha screeched.
She has her own show? That’s the reason she is so comfortable in front of the camera. Keigo thought. She probably was on his show trying to get free publicity. The nerves of this woman never cease to amaze him. He looked over at Marco again. He smelled a dirty directing rat. If he found out that the same company that produced his show was producing her show, he was killing Marco.
“Oh please, Etta. My husband’s last name is Lewin for freakin’ sake. Even I would have known he was Jewish! Stomach reader my ass!”
“Ladies…” Keigo tried once again to intervene, politely.
“Food Consultant, thank you!” Etta shouted. “Look, I never professed to be a freakin’ mind reader. Also, as for the last name, you’re a Lewin now and everyone can see you aren’t Jewish. The way you barfed down the ribs at your wedding; it’s obvious you aren’t living a kosher lifestyle. Hey, why don't you tell us what your husband was saying when he was getting barbecue kisses off your greasy lips,” Etta clucked her tongue loudly. “See, if you’d listened to someone else besides your own porker snout, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Meaning what?” Tanesha bellowed. “You trying to say I’m fat.”
“No, I’m not trying to say anything except your nose looks like a pig snout.”
”Why you bitch!”
“Call me what you want but we both know the truth. You’re the one who insisted on ribs and pulled pork smoked tender in brisk chips, with Cajun hot barbecue. Now, I don’t care who ate the meat. All I know is there was nothing left at the end of the night.”
“Miss Jones…”
“I was humiliated.” Tanesha pouted.
“Mrs. Lewin…”
“If wearing that dress cut down to your navel was humiliating, nothing else should have been,” Etta quipped.
“You whacked-out crack hoe,” Tanesha argued. “You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you a damn…errs…you know!”
“Oh yes you do and you going to give me back my money!”
“What money? I swear you got nerve!” Etta blew out a long breath. “Tanesha, how do you think you can give a sister, $4400 dollars to buy $3800 worth of food and even consider that I got what my services are worth? If anything, you still owe me.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Tanesha rolled her eyes at her.
Etta’s face became flushed and Keigo grinned. If Mrs. Lewin was getting under Etta’s skin, he was happy. All of this started because she couldn’t follow the rules. She deserved to feel a taste of his frustration.
“I don’t do these types of affairs anymore. Do you have any idea how much I could charge you for my services? Hell, I get paid big dutchies just to put in an appearance! I did all the work myself so you wouldn’t have to pay extra for my assistants. All you had to do was supply the servers and you decided to go buffet style to pinch a dime.”
“Humph! A favor? I don’t think so. You see this is what you get when you mess with a ghetto catering business,” Tanesha mumbled.
“Oh no, you didn’t,” Etta made a smacking sound of disbelief. “What rights does a Hood Rat--“
Keigo spat out the sip of water he took from his cup on a laugh.
The ladies barely gave him a glance as Etta continued, “Have to call me ghetto? You don’t know me like that. I may be a Carney Brat--”
“Carney Brat?” Bailiff Phil interrupted in his booming voice.
“A kid that grew up in a traveling carnival,” Etta explained.
“Thank you, Phil,” Keigo grinned at the bailiff. “That explains a lot.”
“Yes it does, Judge Kyou,” Phil chuckled in agreement.
Etta turned her attention towards him but before she could say what she was thinking, Tanesha intervened. He released a relieved sigh.
“You know you’re jealous because I got a man and my Momma told me what happened on the day of your wedding,” Tanesha said smugly. “That’s the real reason you don’t do weddings any more isn’t it, Ms. Goody-Goody.”
The entire courtroom seemed to grow still as they waited for Etta’s snappy comeback. Keigo was taken aback to see the color practically drain from her generally animated face. His expression darkened with an unreadable emotion and he realized he had allowed this to go on long enough.
Keigo stood abruptly, picked up his gavel and struck the dark oak wood a few times. The vein in his forehead was prominent as he bellowed, “Enough! I want order in this damned courtroom or I will hold you both in contempt!”
Surprised gasps went out through the courtroom followed by dead silence, all eyes forward on him. Keigo’s face reddened with embarrassment. Marco was laughing at his expense. Never in his eleven years on the bench has he made such an outburst in his courtroom. He was sure it was because his stomach was killing him. Tiredly, he cleared his throat and mumbled his apologies while reclaiming his seat.
“Don’t worry about it, Judge Handsome. I can hear your poor belly screaming so I can understand why you’re in such a foul mood.” She clucked her tongue at him before adding in Japanese, “Genki dashite, nantoka naru-yo.”
He looked up at Etta in amazement, not because she had spoken in Japanese, but because she seemed to have recovered quickly and once again was talking out of turn in his courtroom. What would it take to keep her quiet? What had Mrs. Lewin said? Something had happened on the day of her wedding? What happened? It was obvious from her case file information the marriage didn’t happen. She marked the single box. Not, divorced or married. His eyes narrowed. What was her story?
“Excuse me, Judge Kyou, I don’t know how to type Japanese,” the stenographer interrupted his thoughts.
“Oops, sorry, your Honor’s Secretary,” Etta giggled. “I said, ‘cheer up, it’ll be okay.’ As a matter-of-fact, this is Judge Uptight’s lucky day because Etta knows what he needs.”
Keigo’s didn’t realize his mouth was open until he nearly choked on his own dry tongue. He struck the gavel to the wood on the desk. “Et…err…Miss Jones, you give me no choice. I’m holding you in contempt for disrupting my proceedings time and time again.”
“Holding in contempt? What does that mean? You’re pissed at me?”
Phil and the courtroom of people laughed.
“Uh, it means that you will be charged a fine and if the Judge so wishes it, spend time in jail for disrupting the court.”
“Thank you, Phil,” Etta smiled at the tall muscular Black man.
Keigo frowned, “Yeah, thank you, Phil.”
Phil cleared his throat, threw his shoulder back and with hands crossed in front of him, resumed his stoic appearance and stared straight ahead. Only the slight tugging at the corner of his mouth hinted at his
true humorous nature.
Keigo was just feeling irritated. Was she charming all his friends? Even Marco was giving him a “thumbs up” sign. He was going to kick his ass when this was over.
“Doesn’t anyone appreciate free help these days? First I do this girl a favor because her Mother knows my Mother, then I try to be understanding about your attitude.” She paused and gave him a grin, “Tell me, why does it seem that I’m the only one that seems to be out of money? How much of a fine are we talking about?
“Do you always talk this much?” He asked over her chatter.
“I don’t think so, but some say I do when I get nervous.” She placed a finger to her chin. “I don’t feel nervous, do you?”
“Miss Jones, from now until the end of these proceedings, each time you interrupt me, I will add a day for each word along with an additional thousand dollar fine. So it would be feasible if you kept your mouth closed.”
“Five days of what?” Etta sputtered. “Also, since you’ve already charged me a thousand dollars, I should be allowed to finish speaking my piece!”
“It’s because you insist on speaking your ‘piece’ that you are in this mess in the first place!” Keigo slammed the gavel down once again. “Now you owe me fifteen days!”
“More like eighteen, Judge.”
“Thank you, Phil.”
“Yeah, thanks Phil,” she mimicked sarcastically.
“That brings you up to twenty-one,” Keigo announced. “You want to try for twenty-five.”
“How about, K.M.A!” She yelled at him.
Keigo face showed his confusion. “KMA?”
She looked at Phil.
“Kiss My Ass, Judge. Not my ass, uh...her--”
“I get it Phil.”
The courtroom erupted in laughter. Keigo hammered against the wood.
“You get an even thirty for that one, Miss Jones.”
Etta raised her hand.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “What now?”
“Since you’re giving me permission to speak, this doesn’t count,” she reminded. “May I ask thirty days of what? Jail time? I can’t do jail time. They might pull my show if the advertisers start pulling out. You know how the networks are.”
The Flavor Of Love Page 2