Page 8 of Contention
Seeing her look of nervousness, Derrick sighs. “To your final question. I’m afraid he will be here, Debra. But, he can’t harm you. He’ll be sitting with the defense. On the other side of the room.”
Debra nods her understanding, giving a tired smile. Kara pats her on the arm with a wane shifting of her lips; she feels for Debra, but finds herself prevented from relating too closely. Dangerously. “You’ll do fine. The worst he can do is look at you, Debbie.”
The blonde nods, wiping at her eyes.
Gesturing to the courtroom, Derrick asks the group, “Shall we?”
He pauses at the large doorway as Bob and Debra filter into the nearly empty space first. Derrick must see something on Kara’s face, because he stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey.Hey. Don’t forget to breathe. You’re looking pale.”
Gah. She doesn’t want him to think she isn’t ready for this case. It’s such a good opportunity for her to work with him directly. A stellar opportunity, in fact. She wants him to look good in front of his client; bringing him down is her biggest fear. “I’m just…nervous that I’ll let you down. Is the opposing counsel as good as you say?”
Derrick’s face darkens. “Don’t worry about the opposing counsel. Leave them to me. Keep sharp on the files, on objections, discrepancies…and we will be good. This is a tough case. A long haul. And, if we win, there could be a promotion in the cards for you. You’ve worked hard; it’s time to get your toes wet. This will be good experience for you.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Kara says with a grin, feeling bolstered by his praise.
It’s one of those things that’s stayed with her forever; her father had always played favorites between Kara and her mother when he could be bothered to notice them. One week you were the Queen of the Castle and the next week…you were lower than a worm crawling through a corpse.
It was a horrible cycle; the desperate longing shared by mother and daughter alike to receive a scrap of affection, only to receive it at the expense of the other. Then, the winds would always shift and once more the indifference would take over, infusing the victims with loss and confusion.
Always wondering what they had done wrong, why they weren’t up to his standards.
God, he’d always been so charming when he wanted to be, her father. He liked to spin them up and watch them unwind like sick little toys. He played his games to keep himself from being bored, because he loved whirling them around like a freakish carousel that they were all chained to in equal misery.
Hell, her father had played her mother straight into the grave, after all.
At her seat beside Derrick, Kara shuffles her papers studiously, not thinking about how praise makes her feel, about how her stomach had flipped when Derrick had shown her kindness.
More and more people start filing into the courtroom, including the honorable Judge Canry, an older man with wild tufts of white hair sticking up from his head. He scowls distinctly at the empty table where the defense team is expected to already be seated at.
Judge Canry pulls out a gold pocket watch and looks at it with a dour expression.
So, they wait, fiddling in their seats.
Just when it looks like the Judge is about to hold the absent team in contempt for being late, the doors open and opposing counsel strolls in with lazy appeal, looking clean-cut in finely tailored suits. They amount to a trio of well-dressed men and Kara can only assume one is the named partner of the opposing law firm, the infamous Nicholas Havenwood-Calais that Derrick is always complaining about.
She’s never seen him before, but she’s heard others groan in dismay around the office when they hear he’s on the opposing side of a case.
“Calais is the kind of man that gives the rest of us a bad rap,” Derrick would always say with a grimace on his face. “He’s a viper in a suit.”
Kara eyeballs the assembled enemy, mentally categorizing them.Sunshine in the slate grey, Trouble in navy, and Rugby in midnight black.
Sunshine, because that one appears to be the youngest of the three men, around Kara’s age. Feathery, soft-looking blonde hair and pale eyes, a sparkling watch and fancy Italian shoes. Cute, with an open face, probably a quick laugh, too. Trouble has sharp features and an aloof expression, paired with cold eyes. He’s got an athletic build that the trim navy suit is clearly tailored for. His aura of confidence is marred by the disdain that seems to hover about his lips. Rugby simply looks like he belongs on the field, tasteful stubble on his strong jawline and a hint of a nose that’s been broken once or twice before. A tall man, half a head taller than his counterparts, with dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s got a barrel of a chest and probably sounds like thunder when he speaks.
Kara notes this all with a small amount of scorn, naturally. Idly chewing on the edge of her pen as she creeps on them as they pass by.A bunch of former frat boys let loose, is what they are.
None of them look concerned. All three, in fact, appear to find the occasion beneath them, because Kara hears a few choice words about golfing float by in their wake. Ah, yes, expensive golf outings aresoimportant.
Trailing behind the three lawyers comes the two defendants; the Dom who committed the heinous offence against Debra, Max Dotaire, along with the owner of theDark Mirage; Paxton ‘Pax’ Brooker. Both men look unconcerned, smiling and whispering to each other.
Kara scowls; these fruitloops think they have this in the bag.
When everyone is situated, Judge Canry gives the defensive counsel a hard stare, drumming his fingers loudly. “Did you have more important engagements this morning, Mr. Havenwood-Calais? Is my court an afterthought for you now? I’m not above fining you to make the lesson stick.”
Of the men seated, Trouble in the lovely navy suit leans forward. In seconds, he transforms from being carved out of stone to beaming with a sharp smile, his perfect teethso fuckingwhite. “My apologies, your Honor. You know I value your judgement with theutmostrespect.”
Kara does a double-take before leaning closer to Derrick, whispering, “So, that’s…?”
He barely nods. “Unfortunately, yes.”
