by Marie Force
“I know. We’ll take it slow, and see what happens.”
“Promise?”
He kissed her hand. “I promise.”
Juliana had to work at noon the next day, so she slept until nine thirty. She lay in bed for a long time wishing there was someone she could talk to about everything that had happened in the last week. Most of her girlfriends were part of couples she and Jeremy were friends with, so there was no way she could share this with them. She could talk to Carol at work, but with the trial starting she hated to burden Carol with her problems. Her sister Dona would take far too much pleasure in hearing there was trouble between her and “Mr. Wonderful”—the sarcastic nickname she and Vincent bestowed upon Jeremy years ago.
Juliana was almost startled to realize there was no one else. She had turned to Jeremy for everything she needed for so long that she had isolated herself from other relationships. Interesting, she thought as she got up to shower. When she was drying her hair, it occurred to her that there was one person she could talk to who wouldn’t pass judgment on her—or Jeremy. The last thing she wanted was anyone treating him differently if they managed to work things out.
She got dressed for work and walked the short distance to Collington Street. Mrs. Romanello’s door was never locked, and Juliana went in calling out, “Hello? It’s just me.”
“Come on in!” Mrs. R called from upstairs. “I’ll be right down. There’s coffee on if you want some.”
The television blared on the counter as Juliana poured herself a cup of coffee. Jeremy always said Mrs. R’s coffee was better than any coffee shop. When he was home he went next door on many a morning to fill his mug—and his stomach—before work. The memory made Juliana sad. Suddenly, it felt like a hundred years ago since they had lived happily next door.
“This is a nice surprise,” Mrs. R said with a kiss to Juliana’s cheek. She wore one of the stylish sweat suits Juliana gave her for Christmas the year before.
“Coffee?” When the older woman nodded, Juliana filled a second mug.
“You’re all in funeral colors, so you must be working today,” Mrs. R said, turning the television down to a normal decibel.
Juliana chuckled. “I know, I know: young girls don’t belong all in black. You don’t have to say it.”
“It’s ridiculous. The owners of that salon of yours need to have their heads examined.”
“Think of it this way—I never have to spend even one second wondering what to wear to work.”
“That’s true, but you’re not here to have this old argument with me, are you? What’s on your mind, hon?”
Juliana shrugged and sat down at the kitchen table. “I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of a mess.”
“What kind of mess?”
Juliana poured out the whole story—from meeting Michael in the airport, to Jeremy’s desire to be with other women and their decision to separate for a few months, to moving in with Michael, his broken engagement, his confession that he was falling for her, her growing feelings for him, and Jeremy’s campaign to keep her in his life. Remembering her promise to Michael, the only thing she left out was the part about Rachelle.
“Well,” Mrs. R said with a stunned expression, “all this in one week?”
“I know! It’s too much. I can’t process it. What should I do, Mrs. R? I’m so confused.”
“I’m going to be honest with you, hon. I’m disappointed in Jeremy. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. If you fall for this Michael fellow or someone else for that matter, Jeremy’s going to have to acknowledge that he let it happen.”
“Don’t be mad with Jeremy,” Juliana pleaded. “I don’t want you to hate him if we manage to get through this and stay together.”
“I could never hate him. I love you both like my own. You know that, Juliana.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I love him, but I’m disappointed in him, too. He’s put you in a terrible position by telling you his most private thoughts.”
“But wouldn’t it have been worse if he’d acted on them and kept it from me? I mean, he could’ve gotten away with it, right? I never would’ve known.”
“You would’ve known. You know him better than anyone on this earth, and he knows there’s no way he would’ve gotten away with cheating on you. I have to give him a few points for respecting you enough not to do that.” She took a sip of her coffee.
The local newscast at the top of the hour led with the Benedetti trial. “Listen. They’re talking about the trial—Michael’s trial.”
“Attorneys met today in a pre-trial conference with Judge Harvey Stein,” the anchorman reported. “Jury selection gets under way on Monday in what promises to be the contentious trial of Marco and Steven Benedetti, accused in the shotgun slayings of Baltimore teenagers Jose Borges, Timothy Sargant, and Mark Domingos.” The news shifted to a shot of the courthouse steps where reporters surrounded Michael and several other men in suits.
“Oh, look! That’s him. That’s Michael.”
“Mr. Maguire!”
The reporters all talked at once.
“What can you tell us about your trial strategy?”
“Not much,” Michael replied confidently. “Except that we’re ready to go for Monday and looking forward to seeing justice served on behalf of the Borges, Sargant, and Domingos families. That’s all I’m going to say at this time.”
“Mr. Maguire, is it true your case rides on the witness you have in protective custody?”
“No comment.”
Juliana watched him push his way through the crowd of reporters. When the news shifted back to the anchor, she noticed Mrs. R watching her with an odd expression on her face.
“Oh, my,” Mrs. R said.
“What?”
“You’re in love with him. It’s all over your face. You couldn’t take your eyes off him.”
“I am not in love with him,” Juliana protested, her heart beating hard. “I like him, though. A lot.”
“You could be in danger living with him during all this craziness.”
Juliana reached across the table for Mrs. R’s hand. “It’s safe. There’s a cop watching the house. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t like this, Juliana. Not one bit. Will you promise me if you’re ever scared there you’ll come stay here with me?”
“I promise, but you don’t have to worry. Besides, I’ve got bigger problems. What am I going to do?”
Mrs. R appeared to give Juliana’s question considerable thought before she answered. “My Tony and I, bless his soul, were married for fifty-three years. Fifty-three beautiful years.” A soft look of love fell over her wrinkled face. “In all that time, I never once wondered if he was thinking of someone else. Not once.”
Juliana looked down at her coffee cup.
“Jeremy loves you. I know he does. But what he’s asked of you is almost too much. I’ve wondered why the two of you never married.”
Juliana shrugged. “We just never got around to it.”
“You need to think about why that is.”
“Vincent says it’s because Jeremy doesn’t need to buy the cow when he’s getting the milk for free,” Juliana said, blushing.
Mrs. R raised an eyebrow. “Vincent’s an idiot, but he’s got a point. Maybe you were too good to Jeremy, and he began to take you for granted. But you have to ask yourself: if you’re able to work all this out and he manages to win you back, is he going to get itchy feet again a year or two down the road when you’re married and maybe have a baby on the way?”
“I don’t know how to be without him. He’s been everything to me, you know? He rescued me from the hell of my family, and gave me this safe place to be for so many years. How do I just walk away from that?”
“You did the right thing taking this break, hon. You both need to figure out what you want. Just because you’ve been with him for ten years doesn’t mean you’re meant to be with him forever. Why don’t you give yourself this t
ime to learn how to be without him? When the three months are up, you can see how you feel about it and decide what to do then.”
“What about Michael?”
“What about him?”
“I have feelings for him, but I don’t want to be one of those girls who goes from guy to guy like they don’t know how to function on their own.”
Mrs. R laughed. “You’ve been with the same guy for ten years, Juliana. You’re hardly setting a pattern by exploring your feelings for one other guy. Besides, the way you’ve taken care of your mother all these years proves you don’t need a man to take care of you. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re capable of standing on your own two feet in any situation.”
Juliana reached over to hug her. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Any time.” Mrs. R tilted Juliana’s chin up, wise old eyes zeroing in. “You do know if you let yourself become involved with Michael that eventually it’s going to come down to a choice, right? You’ll have to choose between them. Are you prepared to do that?”
“I’m already involved with Michael,” Juliana admitted.
She hugged Juliana close to her. “Then be true to your own heart, Juliana. Only your own.”
Juliana nodded and rested for another moment in the warm comfort of Mrs. Romanello’s embrace.
Chapter 15
It took eight tedious, painful, endless days to empanel the jury. In the end, Michael got exactly what he expected—six jurors perfectly suited to the prosecution, six perfectly suited to the defense, and two alternates who could go either way. He worried about the Italian grandmother the defense managed to secure. If she saw one of her own precious grandsons in either of the Benedettis, she could be enough to hang the jury.
But whenever he felt the need to worry, Michael reminded himself of how strong their case was. Regardless of their ages, races, occupations, or built-in biases, the jurors were most likely rational people who, when presented with the facts of the case and Rachelle’s eyewitness testimony, would have no choice but to convict. At least he hoped so.
He always experienced these jitters on the eve of a trial, but this one was different and had been from the beginning. It wasn’t just that it had received national media attention. No, it was that the hopes of a lot of people were resting on his shoulders. Three devastated families and the larger community were looking to him for closure. He wanted that for the families and for Rachelle, who lost her childhood on that fateful night. But Michael admitted he wanted it for himself, too. He wanted to win every case he tried and for the most part he had, but he wanted this one badly. At times, he felt like everything in his life had led him to this moment, and he hoped he was up to the awesome task.
The Sunday afternoon before he was due to deliver his opening, Michael and Juliana went to meet with Rachelle and her mother. Rachelle had been moved to a hotel in Annapolis to put her in closer proximity to the courthouse. This visit was business, and Juliana had been uncomfortable about joining him until he told her Rachelle had asked for her.
“Guess who called me today?” Michael said as they traveled south on Interstate 97 to Annapolis. The fall foliage was at its peak in the late afternoon sunlight.
“Larry King? Nancy Grace?”
“Yes to both, but that’s not who I mean. Derek Gantley, the Florida attorney general.”
“Oh, he’s the one who offered you the job, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“What did he want?”
“Just to wish me luck with the trial and to remind me of his offer. Imagine his surprise when I mentioned I was no longer engaged to Paige.”
“He didn’t know?”
“Nope. He surprised me, though, when he said the offer’s still on the table.”
“That must’ve made you feel good.”
Michael shrugged. “I guess. I told him I’m hardly thinking about my career right now, but thanks for calling, blah, blah, blah.” As he took the Annapolis exit, Michael was hit with a slew of memories of all the time he spent there with Paige. It must have shown on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
She reached for his hand. “Tell me.”
“I spent a lot of time here with Paige when her father was at the Naval Academy.”
Juliana put her other hand on top of his.
He appreciated that she knew when to say nothing.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Michael said, wanting to change the subject. “I don’t have court next Friday because Judge Stein has to deal with some procedural stuff in the trial he has after this one. Barring any unforeseen crises, I may have three whole days off. I was thinking about a quick trip home to Rhode Island.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“Will you come with me?”
Startled, Juliana looked over at him. “I don’t know, Michael…”
“Please? I won’t go if you don’t come with me.”
“That’s crazy! Why not?”
“I’m not leaving you alone at my house for three days during this trial. No way.”
“I thought you weren’t worried about any trouble.”
“I’m not leaving you there, Juliana. Come with me. Come on.”
She smiled at the face he made as he pleaded with her. “I am not saying yes, but I will tell you I’m off next Friday and Saturday because Jeremy was supposed to be home.”
“Yes! You’re coming.”
“I didn’t say yes!” she said, laughing.
He pulled the car off the road.
“What are you doing?”
“This.” He reached for her and kissed her with the frustration that came from ten days of doing his best to keep his distance from her. Weaving his fingers into her hair to keep her still, he sent his tongue to find hers.
Her arms closed around him.
“I tried, Juliana,” he whispered. “But I can’t resist you. I think about you all the time. I dream about you.”
“Michael.” This time she reached for him.
After several long, hot minutes, he pulled away from her with great regret. “I’ve never wished for a backseat in this car as much as I do right at this moment.”
“And what do you think would be happening by the side of the road in broad daylight if you had a backseat?”
He gave her a meaningful look as he kissed her hand and then her mouth. “You make my heart pound,” he said against her lips. “And you’ve succeeded in changing my memories of Annapolis.”
With a chuckle, she pushed him back into the driver’s seat. “You have a meeting. Drive.”
He exhaled a long, frustrated deep breath and eased the car onto the highway.
Juliana sat next to Rachelle as Michael spelled out a change in their trial strategy. “We’re putting the victims’ friends who saw the fight in the arcade on first, followed by the detectives, and then the ballistics guys. We’ve decided to put you on last, Rachelle.”
“I thought you said she’d be first,” said Rachelle’s mother, Monique, her stunning black face tight with aggravation.
“We’ve given this a lot of thought,” Michael explained. “We think the case is stronger if Rachelle’s testimony is the last thing the jurors hear before the prosecution rests.”
Knowing Monique’s histrionics got on his nerves, Juliana gave him credit for being so patient with her. When Monique stood up to pace the room, Juliana squeezed Rachelle’s hand. She had noticed in previous visits that Rachelle lost some of her sparkle when her overwrought mother was around.
“I haven’t seen my husband and sons in seven weeks,” Monique complained. “It’s been even longer for Rachelle. You’re sure we have to do it this way? You could call her first and we’d be out of here tomorrow.”
Michael stood up to face her. “I wouldn’t ask it of you—either of you—if I wasn’t sure it was the best way to proceed.” He moved over to squat down in front of Rachelle, taking both of her hands in his. “Sweetheart, I know
this has been so hard, and you’ve been incredibly brave. I’m asking for just a little while longer—one more week, maybe two. Can you do that for me?”
Watching him handle the teenager with such infinite gentleness, Juliana felt all her defenses slip away and the door to her heart open to him. She loved him. It was suddenly as clear to her as anything she had ever known in her life.
Rachelle’s big brown eyes were bright with tears, but she nodded. “I can do it for you.”
“That’s my girl.”
They visited with Rachelle for another half hour before Michael said they had to go. He hugged Rachelle and told her the next time he saw her would be in court. “Just remember what we’ve talked about. Answer only the questions you’re asked, don’t offer anything extra, and don’t look at them except for when I ask you to identify them, okay?”
She nodded.
He kissed her cheek. “You’re going to be just fine. You’re my slam dunk, and don’t you forget it.”
“I won’t,” she said with a smile. “Michael?”
“Yeah?”
“Get ’em,” she said softly. “Just make sure you get ’em.”
“I will.”
Juliana hugged the girl. “I’m so glad I got to know you, Rachelle.”
“Thank you,” Rachelle said. “Thank you so much for being my friend.”
“I’m proud to call you my friend.” Juliana folded the girl into one more hug before Michael took her hand to lead her from the room.
Monique followed them into the hallway, closing the door to Rachelle’s room behind her. “Michael?”
He dropped Juliana’s hand and turned to Monique.
“Promise me nothing’s going to happen to my baby,” Monique said, blinking back tears.
Michael put his hand on her arm. “The Baltimore Police chief has made the full resources of the department available to us during the trial. You have my word that nothing’s going to happen to her.”
Monique squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry for what your family’s been through. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure it was worth it.”
She nodded. “Okay.”