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“You go ahead. Give me five minutes,” I said.
They nodded and headed to their table. They were representing themselves today, and I was a part of their team, representing them as well. My body shook. After being tossed out of my parents’ firm and confronting them at their house, being in the same proximity as them brought forth something that felt like terror within me. It was as if my mental health was being held at knife point, and I was being threatened.
Several deep breaths later and a reminder that I was doing this to stand up for myself and save my mental health, I collected myself and walked into the courtroom. Chris was sitting in the gallery on the side of my parents. A chill ran through my body, and something deep within my chest curled up and tried to hide. But I shook it off.
Faking it until I made it would have to be my strategy today. My weakness was to my family what blood was to a shark. They couldn’t sense it once I stepped into lawyer mode, or they’d attack, so I put on my poker face and kept my head straight, walking past Chris.
Even if everything were crashing and burning around me, there was one thing I knew I’d always be, and that was a lawyer. When my parents carved out this path for me, I was sure they didn’t picture this. That one day, I would be going against them. In some ways, that gave me a false sense of confidence and instead of hiding away by ignoring their existence, I raised my head and watched them.
My father’s hands shook as he straightened out papers. My mother’s face was smug for some reason. The other lawyers on their side had no ties to me, and they had nothing to lose, so they were talking and smiling with each other as if this were a day out at the beach with old friends, having a picnic, catching up.
“All rise,” the bailiff hollered, and the doors bellowed open to reveal the judge in her black gown, stalking toward her seat. Her face held no expression as she placed her files on her desk before sitting.
As if we’d just appeared in front of her, she raised her head and smiled. “You may be seated,” she said. “We have Crawford & Beam suing Levine LLP for defamation. And oh! Tiffany Levine representing Crawford & Beam. Well, this should be interesting,” she mused, looking over her files before looking at both of our teams as if she were waiting for the games of war to begin. Like she couldn’t wait for one of us to take an arrow through the head.
My neck flooded with heat, and I gulped, trying not to let my internal voice get the better of me. Mario grabbed my left hand, and Jared grabbed my right.
“Everything’s going to be okay.” Mario leaned forward to whisper in my ear. And although it wasn’t professional, Jared raised my hand to his lips, kissing me on the back of it.
“Yeah, I second that. You’re okay,” he said.
The breath that was strangling me was released for a moment, even as I turned to look toward the door to check once more for a missing Anthony.
Chapter 23
Jared
“Howoldareyou,Mr. Crawford?” Mr. Levine cleared his throat to ask as he raised his head to study me with creased eyes.
Mrs. Levine stared at me with her hands clasped on the desk before her and a smirk on her face. Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I fixed my mouth to answer. Tiffany got in there before me though, speaking into the tiny microphone before her.
“Objection, Your Honor. Relevance?” she asked, giving into her urge to roll her eyes. Her mother quickly turned her head, tightly pursing her lips as if the need to reprimand her was difficult to suppress.
“It is relevant, Your Honor. The case is about predatory behavior, and age does factor into this,” Mr. Levine defended, tugging at the neck of his tie. Mrs. Levine did what seemed to be a subconscious nod as she looked at the judge.
“Your Honor, Mr. Crawford’s age is irrelevant since his sexual partner was a consenting adult,” Tiffany argued, referring to herself objectively.
“Your Honor, there’s no way of knowing whether his sexual partner was always able to consent when they first got together,” Mr. Levine started.
“Objection, speculation,” Tiffany interrupted him.
“I’m trying to establish a foundation,” Mr. Levine finished, pressing his lips together as Mrs. Levine studied him with disapproval.
“Your Honor, may we approach the bench?” Tiffany asked, narrowing her brows in irritation. The judge’s head was swinging from left to right during the exchange. She looked like she was about to call order in the courtroom, but she almost swallowed her tongue when she quickly shut her mouth and opened it to speak again.
“Yes, yes, you may,” she said, waving her hand in the air, appearing to be both flustered and entertained.
Meanwhile, I watched in admiration as my woman stormed toward the bench, seemingly more confident than an hour ago when her skin shook beneath my fingertips. It warmed my heart to see how hard she was fighting for me, for us, for herself. Knowing that she was on my team as an attorney made me feel safe because as much shit as I’d given her in the past, I knew she was fixing to be one of the best. Pride also overtook me as I watched her walk back to her seat.
She didn’t look happy, though.
“You may restate your question,” the judge said to Mr. Levine as Tiffany tugged at the pen in her hand. Mario reached over to soothe her with a touch, resting his hand on top of her fidgeting ones. She sighed and turned to him, smiling as her cheeks heated up with a blush. Watching her made me smile without thinking. Even in such a serious and threatening situation, I felt connected to her. Her emotion found me like metal to a magnet deep within my chest.
“I’m almost forty,” I responded with that rather than saying my actual age. I knew the narrative they were trying to paint, and I wanted them to know that I wasn’t afraid of it. There was nothing to hide.
“Right, almost forty,” Mr. Levine said, shuffling some papers before him. “And at almost forty years old, do you think it’s appropriate to sleep with someone younger than you?”
“Mr. Levine, I think if the person I’m sleeping with is of the legal and moral age of consent, then of course it’s okay,” I responded, slitting my eyes at him.
