by Erin Lyon
She shrugged and made a gleeful grunt. “So happy,” she said. “It’s weird the way a little distance can make you realize that you were never actually happy with them. Just too afraid to let go of the idea of them.”
I nodded at her wisdom. “I guess I never thought of it that way.” My mind quickly flickered to Jonathan. Nope. I was actually happy. No delusions there. I added, “I’m really glad it’s working out for you.”
She nodded and then faced forward as the judge entered the courtroom. We all stood when the bailiff told us to. Judge Stanford entered, looking severe in his black robe and prematurely annoyed with all of us. He sat down and straightened his glasses. I kinda hoped he wouldn’t remember us from our clients’ no-show a few weeks ago.
I glanced back just in time to see Doug slinking into the courtroom at the last minute, keeping his head low to avoid the judge’s notice.
Judge Stanford didn’t notice or didn’t care and just started calling items on the calendar.
When our case was called, the four of us headed to the big kids’ table. I sat down with Rochelle to my right and Doug sat with Pope to his left. I could tell Pope was whispering to Doug and Doug was trying to silence him.
“Ms. Shaw. So nice to see that your client could join us this time. And you, as well, Mr. Simpson.”
Really, Kate? You thought there was a chance he wouldn’t call you out on that? I felt my face grow hot. Per usual. Doug and I mumbled brief apologies.
Judge Stanford gave a quick glare to our clients. “Your motion, Ms. Shaw.”
“Yes, Your Honor. As stated in the moving papers, a recalculation for child support is necessary, based on Dr. Pope’s current income.”
“Yes. This support order has been static for five years?” Judge Stanford asked, directing his attention to Doug.
“Approximately, Your Honor.” I saw Doug hold a hand up to Pope, who seemed to still be attempting to whisper in his lawyer’s ear.
“Dr. Pope, you will hold your conversation. You should have had ample time prior to this hearing to discuss matters with your attorney,” Judge Stanford said, without a hint of amusement.
Pope appeared to mutter another few words to Doug before finally holding his tongue. Doug sighed audibly. “Your Honor, it is my client’s wish to withdraw our opposition to Ms. Britton’s motion.”
The courtroom went quiet at that.
“Mr. Simpson, may I address your client?”
“Of course, Your Honor.”
“Dr. Pope, is this correct? You no longer wish to contest Ms. Britton’s motion for an increase in child support?”
“That is correct, Your Honor. I want her to have whatever she wants.”
I spared a quick glance at Rochelle. Damn, girl. You’re going to need to teach classes or something.
Judge Stanford considered the statement for a quick second before picking up the relevant pleading in his hand. “Very well. Respondent’s objection to Petitioner’s motion is stricken at Respondent’s request. It is the ruling of this Court that child support shall be ordered as prayed in the motion. Ms. Shaw, you will prepare the order for the Court’s signature, pursuant to this ruling.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” I quickly shuffled my papers and lifted the relevant order in my hand. “Your Honor, I do have a proposed order already drafted on those terms.”
“I would prefer if you included the request to strike the objection.”
“Absolutely, Your Honor. I will revise it and submit it tomorrow.”
“Thank you. Good day.” And just like that, we were dismissed. Again. Stanford was a very abrupt judge.
We all filed out of the courtroom and, once outside, Doug reached out and shook my hand. “Thanks, Kate. Just send the proposed order over for me to approve as to form.”
“Absolutely. I’ll have it to you by tomorrow.” I glanced at Pope and he was eagle-eyeing Rochelle, who was smiling, looking relaxed and lovely.
Rochelle walked up to Pope and took his hand between both of hers. “Thank you, Richard. I really do appreciate this not turning into an ugly fight.”
“Of course,” he said, earnestly. “I would do anything for you.”
Rochelle responded with a look that, to me at least, resembled pity, and put a hand gently to his cheek. “I wish you all the best, Richard.”
Pope frowned a little, like he was starting to catch on that his grand gesture may not have had the effect he was going for. “But … we’ll talk, right?”
“Of course. You’re Collette’s father. We’ll always be a part of each other’s lives.”
He still didn’t seem satisfied, but that statement seemed to give him hope, so he nodded and squeezed her hand.
Rochelle and I turned and headed down the stairs and out of the building. Once outside, she turned to me, gripping my wrist.
“I can’t thank you enough, Kate. You helped me more than you know.”
I frowned, confused. “You did this all yourself.”
She shook her head. “Don’t underestimate your pep talks. Sometimes the right word when you need it most can change everything.”
My face froze, and for a second I felt a little choked up. I put a hand to my chest. “I really appreciate that.”
Rochelle surprised me by wrapping me in a quick hug before turning and heading the opposite way down the sidewalk.
Okay. So maybe signing law has some good days.
* * *
Mags buzzed me about 4:00 p.m. to tell me that, true to his word, Dr. Pope was calling for me. Dammit. And he wasn’t even a client, so I couldn’t bill him for my time. Not like I was going to bill Rochelle because her ex thought I could help him win her back.
I sighed. “Put him through, I guess.”
“I can tell him you’re in a meeting?”
“He’ll just call back. I might as well get it over with.”
“That’s the spirit.”
I picked up my phone when it rang. “This is Kate.”
“Hi, Kate. It’s Richard Pope.”
“Dr. Pope, you have an attorney. I still don’t feel that this is appropriate.”
“The case is over. I’m not calling for legal advice.”
And that’s the problem with giving out personal advice. I’m apparently better at that than the legal kind. “I’m a lawyer, not a therapist.”
“But Rochelle said you talked to her about us.”
Crap. “I’m not sure what you think I can do for you.”
“Tell me how to get her back.”
“I’m not a magician, either.”
Silence. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. But seriously, unless this guy could get his hands on a time machine and go back in time and not cheat on Rochelle with half the women in town, I was pretty sure he was out of luck.
Finally he said, “But she was ready to take me back. You must have said something to her that changed all that.” For the first time, I was realizing that he blamed me more than a little for Rochelle finally kicking him to the curb.
“I didn’t change her mind. I just listened to her. She was upset. She needed to vent.”
“No. That day at the courthouse, she was ready to sign. We moved back in together. And then suddenly she did a one eighty and ended it. I checked her phone. You were the only one she was talking to.”
“Dr. Pope, forgive me for being blunt, but you cheated on the woman over and over again. I’m surprised you think she needed convincing that you weren’t trustworthy. I’m sure she could reach that conclusion all on her own.”
“But she didn’t,” he said, with a slight hiss in his voice.
“This conversation is over, doctor. I would advise not calling my office again.”
The line went silent and I frowned at the phone. Yikes. I sort of dreaded the fact that Rochelle still had to share a child with that asshole.
I hung up the phone as Rita walked in with a smile and set an ivory envelope on my desk. “This was just dropped off for you by Dot Hamilton, along with he
r final payment.”
I picked up the envelope and admired the pretty script spelling out my name. I looked up and Rita made the what are you waiting for gesture with her hands. I smiled and opened the seal, sliding out a formal invitation to Dot’s signing party.
“Well?” Rita asked.
I handed her the invite. “Apparently, Dot and Sven are signing.”
“And you’re invited,” Rita observed, with an approving smile.
“Invited where? Who’s signing?” Mags asked from the doorway.
“Signing party. Dot and Sven,” I answered.
Rita handed Mags the invite on her way out of my office.
After looking the invite over, Mags fanned her face with it. “And you give me a hard time for matchmaking. Look what you did.”
“Don’t remind me,” I said, taking the invitation back in hand. “Is there any possible way that this isn’t actually a complete disaster waiting to happen?”
“Odds are slim, but not impossible. Maybe they’ll have the chinchilla hold the tokens prior to the signing?”
“At this point, nothing would surprise me. Wanna be my date?” I asked.
“Ooh. I thought you’d never ask,” she said with a grin.
* * *
I got to work the next morning, and by the time I’d logged into my computer, Mags buzzed me. “Scarlett’s on the phone.”
“She called the office? I guess that’s a small victory, right?”
“Actually, she said she tried your cell but you didn’t answer.” I glanced at my cell phone on my desk and saw the missed call icon. Shit.
“Fine. Fine, fine, fine.”
Mags chuckled and connected the call.
“This is Scarlett,” I said.
“What?”
I looked up as Mags walked into my office. She set a cup of water on my desk and two little white tablets next to it that I was guessing were Tylenol. I saluted her and she walked back out.
“Kate. Sorry. Hi, Scarlett. I was thinking about you when I picked up the phone.”
“Oh. So, I got home from work yesterday and my camera was on the front porch.”
“I told you he was going to bring it back while you were at work so there’d be no confrontation.”
“I guess.”
“You wanted your camera back. He brought it back. I explained to you the problem with going after him over it when you hadn’t moved it like you said you would.”
“I know.”
“Did you mount it again?”
“Yes.”
“Not pointing at his bedroom, right?”
“No. More across the front of the property.”
“Oh.”
“I can see his front door.”
“Oh.”
“There’s a woman over there.”
“Oh?” I took the Tylenol and a gulp of water. “Aren’t you at work?”
“Yes. You know I can see my cameras from the app.”
“Right.”
“She’s pretty.”
Holy crap. She’s sniffling. She’s about to cry. Over a guy that she claimed to hate.
“Um. Scarlett?”
Sniff. “Yeah?”
“Stop watching. It’s not doing you any good to keep watching his every move if it’s only going to hurt you. Just let it go.”
“Let it go?” she shrieked in my ear. Stupid, Kate. Know your audience. You got cocky after Rochelle’s praise. This is not Rochelle. This is something else. Entirely.
“Well—” I started.
She cut me off. “I can’t let it go! You wouldn’t understand. What it’s like to really love someone. To have a soul mate. And to have it all go to shit.”
My mind immediately went to Jonathan. And Adam. And I started giggling.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“What the fuck, Kate? This is funny to you?”
“No. Not at all. I’m sorry. You know what? My love life is a disaster. I shouldn’t be giving advice to anyone.”
“Hmph.” Scarlett was quiet for a minute. “Disaster how?” Because everyone loves a train wreck as long as they’re not on it.
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” I said. “Dumped at the end of a contract. In love with a contract killer. Ex wants me back.” I laughed again. Because my dealings with Scarlett had passed the point of ludicrous and now it all seemed laughable. “It’s a total mess. You’re right. I don’t get to give advice.”
“No shit? A contract killer? Like, a murderer?”
Jesus, Kate. Shut your mouth. I started laughing again. “No, Scarlett. Not a killer. Like a man who only goes after women under contract. A contract killer.”
“Oh! I heard of them. I just didn’t know they were a real thing.”
Indeed they are. “Look, Scarlett, we aren’t talking about me. We’re talking about you letting Rhett make you crazy.”
“He is,” she said quietly.
“But we need to hang on to things that make us happy and let go of things that don’t.”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
I hung up and tried to figure out exactly where that conversation went so far off course. I’d just spent ten minutes trying to reason with Scarlett. Not in my top ten best decisions ever. Not to mention, it was probably another rookie move to talk about my personal life with a client. Well, one of the crazy ones, anyway.
I managed to get a little work done on a complaint I was drafting before someone knocked on my door frame. I looked up to see Logek giving a quick wave to Mags as Mags sat back down at her desk.
“You were on the phone, so Mags came and got me.”
Logek was in skinny jeans and a flimsy tank top, so she looked casually perfect.
“Great,” I said, doing a quick save of my document and grabbing my purse. “Where do you want to go to lunch?”
“Oh, wherever.” And then she widened her eyes at me and smiled.
“Hey,” I said with a smirk, “how about we swing by Jared’s office so you can say hi.”
She shrugged. “Sure, if you don’t think it’d be a bother.”
“I’m not dignifying that with a response.”
Logek laughed. I threw my purse over my shoulder, and Logek followed me through the office. I peeked around the corner to make sure Jared wasn’t on the phone. He was reading through a pleading, alternating between highlighting things and scribbling notes in the margins with a pencil.
“Knock, knock,” I said.
He looked up quickly and smiled. “Hey, Kate.”
I moved over farther so Logek could fit in the doorway. She moved in next to me with a shy smile. “Logek came to meet me for lunch and wanted to say hello before we left.” Logek gave me a quick jab with her elbow. Oh, right. Like I was taking all the credit for this “chance” meeting.
Jared stood, smiling, and came around his desk to stand in front of us. “I’m glad you did,” he said, extending a hand to Logek.
They shook hands quietly. It was funny for me to see Logek this tongue-tied.
“It’s nice to see you again,” she said, finally.
“You, too. I had a good time the other night.”
“Me, too.”
“Kate,” I heard a voice call. I looked up to see Brad standing a couple feet away from me. “Can I ask you a quick question?”
“Of course.” I turned to Jared and Logek. “Back in a sec.”
I walked over to Brad. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know. Mags just said I was supposed to call you away for a minute.”
I rolled my eyes and looked at Mags, who was standing up in her cube so that I could see her smiling face. I shook my head at her. She sat back down.
“What’s going on?” Brad asked, pushing his big glasses a little farther up the bridge of his nose.
“Mags is playing matchmaker again.”
Brad frowned and looked toward Jared’s office.
“Logek is here,” I said.
“Oh,” Brad said, finally grasping the situation. “Gotcha.”
I walked back to the door and leaned in. “Um, Logek. Ready to go?”
“Yep,” she said, turning back to Jared. “You sure you can’t join us?”
“Believe me,” he said, dropping his chin and looking up at her from his lowered brow. “I wish I could get away, but I’ve got a motion that has to be filed by the end of the day and it’s nowhere near ready. Next time?”
“Of course,” Logek said. “See ya.”
“Bye,” Jared said, putting his hands into the pockets of his slacks and smiling.
Logek and I started walking back toward the elevator. I looked at her and she had a puzzled look on her face.
She was still quiet when we reached the sidewalk in front of the building. “Mexican?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said.
She pointed down the street. “Tres Hermanos is only a couple blocks.”
“Perfect.”
We started walking and she was quiet again.
“So? Did I miss anything when I was talking to Brad?”
“Nope. He just asked how I was. Little small talk. Otherwise, nada.”
I smiled. “Why don’t you just ask him out?”
“Because. He’s had opportunities. He must have a reason, right?”
“I don’t know. I told you, I don’t really know him that well.”
She snapped her fingers. “Is he signed?”
“Nope. I asked him that when I first started at the firm. He said a lot of signing attorneys end up too cynical to sign.”
“He does like girls, right? I mean, he is awfully pretty.”
“And well dressed. And his hair is perfect.”
“Maybe I’m on the wrong team?” Logek reasoned.
“I don’t think so. Mags didn’t think so. But I really don’t know for sure.”
We walked into the restaurant, asked for a table for two, and sat down with our menus.
Logek picked up her menu but didn’t actually look like she was reading it. “Text Adam. Ask him. I need to know if I’m making a fool out of myself.”
I sighed.
“Come on, Kitty Kat. You’d be doing me a favor and I’d be giving you an excuse to text Adam.”
I frowned at her, but pulled my phone out of my purse.