Page 38 of Courtroom Drama
Bess huffs into the microphone, smooths her hair, her skirt. Finally, she says in the most dismissive of tones, “She heard a rumor from the warehouse manager that black market Botox was coming in with the product shipments.”
Irena Medley enacts a severe lift of her brows as if it’s the first she’s hearing of this revelation.
“It was never proven!” Bess declares.
Judge Gillespy strikes her gavel—one firm, hard blow. “Watch your volume, Ms. Waterford.”
Bess is clearly heated, her chest rising and falling, hitting her chin at each heave, deepening the makeup stain on the front of her shirt, mocking me further.
Judge Gillespy, clearly over this witness, asks the defense to wrap it up.
“Ms. Waterford, you had quite the falling out with Margot, it seems,” Irena Medley says. “First, there were allegations of illegal goods being moved in the product shipments, then this claim that you no longer fit the brand. Did you ever... do anything geared toward Mrs. Kitsch that was... out of anger? As a result of this falling out?”
Bess swallows hard. “I was upset,” she says, her voice flimsy.
“You were upset when you did what?”
Bess glares at Margot, then forces herself to look away, while Margot’s eyes grow dark, their sadness remaining.
“I keyed her car when I saw it in the parking lot of Erewhon on Santa Monica.”
“You keyed the wordtwatinto the side of Margot’s Range Rover, is that correct?”
Cam snickers again.
Bess closes her eyes. “Yes.”
Irena Medley makes ahmphsound in judgment of Bess’s admission. “It would seemyouare the one who seeks revenge at all costs, not Mrs. Kitsch,” she declares.
Judge Gillespy pounds her gavel.
Margot turns her head sharply to the gallery, as if to say,Are you getting this?
“No further questions,” co-defense counsel Medley states, and then takes her seat, leaving Bess Waterford glaring at Margot from the witness stand.
19.
Legal Loophole (n., phrase)
a gap or ambiguity in the wording or application of a law or rule that allows individuals to exploit it to their advantage
not a crime, technically
Thirty minutes after I’ve retired to my room for the evening, after I’ve changed into sweats, washed my face, and gone through my skincare routine, I sit at the edge of the bed riddled with worry. So far, Margot has been made out to be a scorned wife in a marriage for show, a difficult teen who disappeared for a week, a cutthroat business partner, a gold digger who married her way into luxury, and a mildly unhinged closet-hiding wafer binger. The woman described in that courtroom is so very different from the one I’ve watched over seven seasons ofAMOM, and I can’t help but wonder which is the true version. It’s certainly made me realize that I might not know as much about Margot as I thought I did. I’m itching to get into that deliberation room and lead discussions.
A shuffling sound at my door catches my attention, and I look over in time to see a sheet of folded paper sliding under it. For some reason, I instantly think of the handwritten note I received in the eighth grade from Jared Moore, handed to me in our junior high hallway between English and lab. Damon was the only person to have ever written me a physical note up to that point. I opened it anxiously, some small bit of me daring to think it could be a declaration of romanticinterest, only to find it read,Is it true your dad is sleeping with Ms. Paige?It would turn out my father had a thing for teachers.I was no longer invisible; tagged instead. After I told Damon what happened, he got his revenge on Jared Moore that afternoon at a particularly aggressive lacrosse practice.
I know who this note is from: the same person whose notes fill that Tiffany-blue shoebox in my closet. My heart thuds with anticipation as I unfold the note and begin reading.
SYDNEY,
IF YOU COULD BINGE-WATCH ANY SHOW RIGHT NOW, WHICH WOULD IT BE? MINE WOULD BE TED LASSO BECAUSE I’LL NEED A LONG-TERM BREAK FROM DRAMA AFTER THIS TRIAL. AND IF YOU SAY THE NEW SEASON OF AUTHENTIC MOMS OF MALIBU AFTER ALL THIS, I MAY HAVE TO RETHINK OUR FRIENDSHIP.
SINCERELY,
DESPERATELY BORED DAMON
I reread the note still standing in the doorway, the smile invading my lips unavoidable. He’s so solidly reserved most of the time, but there have been a handful of moments where he has popped open to me, and I find myself honored each time he does.
