Revenge: A Bad Boy Romance (63 page)

“Okay, I’m good,” I said, picking up my materials and walking into the court. Foster took his usual seat in the audience.

This was my fifteenth appearance representing a client in a courtroom, and my third in front of Judge Whiteman. I still had the same butterflies in my stomach that had kept me awake the night before the first trial. 

“Good to see you again, Mrs. Arrington,” Judge Whiteman said as I introduced myself to the court. “I enjoyed reading your brief, although not as much as that one you filed a few years ago.”

Every time. Every fucking time I saw Judge Whiteman he slipped in a little reminder of that brief. If I ever did become famous, he was going to make a fortune telling that story on the after-dinner circuit around D.C.

“I’ll try to spice it up a bit next time,” I replied. 

Today was my first jury trial. I had to convince six people that my client had suffered severe discrimination in the workplace, such that she’d had to resign and had suffered a mental breakdown. 

I’d practically had a panic attack when the case had first landed on my desk. We were going up against a large department store that had retained a law firm almost as big as Arrington, Arrington, & Hedges. 

Fortunately, the big law firm had taken one look at me and figured this would be a walk in the park. They didn’t prepare properly and I locked the case down in jury selection. The actual trial would be a formality now.

Opposing counsel had been so obsessed with keeping women and minorities off the jury, who would supposedly be biased against the defendant, that they hadn’t bothered asking the jurors many questions. 

That allowed me to slip through a juror whose wife had won a case for discrimination, a man who’d been fired from the department store a few months ago, and three other people who described themselves as staunchly in favor of increased protection for employees in the workplace. 

I had this case in the bag. 

In addition to having the jurors on my side, I also had my lucky charm in the audience. Foster had been to every single one of my court appearances, even though he was now a partner at Arrington, Arrington, & Hedges. 

He’d been welcomed back into the fold once it became clear that PorTupe was a complete shambles. As Foster had predicted, Zach tried to bribe Bryan and other lawyers at the DOJ, which went down about as well as you can imagine. 

The ensuing scandal nearly took Cooper & Cooper into bankruptcy, but at the last minute they merged with another firm in the corporate field. The competent attorneys from Cooper & Cooper stayed on at the new firm, but Zach got booted out within the month. 

I had a feeling he’d worm his way out of the bribery prosecution, but he wouldn’t work as a lawyer again either way. I had zero sympathy for him. He’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it.

The trial went smoothly, even though I nearly lost my way during the closing argument. We won the case convincingly which hopefully meant opposing counsel wouldn’t bother trying to find grounds for an appeal. By the time the case made it to an appellate court, I would be on leave from work and wouldn’t be able to handle the case.

“Great work, baby,” Foster said, once we were outside the courtroom. He kissed me on the cheek and put his hand on the small of my back. 

“Thanks.” I had to tell him the news today. I’d thrown up the last three mornings, but he’d already left for work each time. He’d catch me soon enough though. 

“How about we go grab a drink?” Foster asked. 

It would have to be non-alcoholic. “Sure. Where do you want to go?” 

“How about we go back to the rooftop bar near my office?”

“Back to where it all began?” I asked.

“I have very fond memories from that night.” 

“Me too. And I think after tonight you’ll have some more.”

“What does that mean?” he asked. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” I touched my stomach unconsciously, even though there was no bump to give away the secret just yet. 

Foster and I argued a fair bit, but we always made up quickly and passionately. It came with the territory of being two busy lawyers. One argument we wouldn’t need to have was the baby name. If it was a boy, we would name him Steve after Foster’s dad. If it was a girl, we would name her Laura, after Mom. 

Boy or girl, the baby was going to be spoiled rotten by Foster, and our parents. That kid would never want for a thing. 

Neither would I. Not with Foster.

“I love you,” Foster said, out of the blue, as we walked to the bar. 

“I love you too,” I replied. He was going to be a great dad.

Escape

Score

Redemption

Foster

Revenge

Jessica Ashe is a twenty-seven year old British woman currently enjoying the much nicer weather found in Northern California. She enjoys writing about sophisticated and intelligent women and the hot alpha males that lust after them.

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