“Yeah,” said Paige, feeling more confused than ever. “Thanks, Diane.”
* * *
Josh’s case wasn’t being heard in the famous courthouse with the columns and the stairs, scene of many a tight-lipped argument or shoot-out onLaw & Order, but rather at a different and far more nondescript courthouse up Centre Street. Josh couldn’t even get a good look at the architecture because the whole facade was covered in scaffolding while the building was being cleaned. He didn’t want to say he was disappointed—he was still getting to sit second chair on a trial—but everything from the building facade to the organized chaos at the security checkpoint to the inside of the courtroom which, frankly, looked more like a hospital room with benches than a courtroom, were not what he expected. And, really, how did people not get headaches sitting all day in a room with such bright lighting?
Mr. Provost didn’t do much more than let Josh observe, but Josh sat in a very uncomfortable wooden chair and jotted down notes as the plaintiff presented her case. The case itself was convincing and the jury looked bored. Josh had never been on a jury—the one time he’d been called for jury duty, he’d explained that he was in law school, and the attorneys had fallen over themselves to dismiss him—but he imagined sitting there listening with no phone or other distractions must have been dull as hell. The only time the jury perked up was when a court officer wheeled in a TV and they were shown the original commercial and a demonstration of a rubber mallet destroying a window from the defendant’s store.
Josh was allowed to keep his phone, and it buzzed eight or ten times in his pocket during the morning session. He was afraid to look at it, worried the judge would say something if the proceedings were not commanding his full attention. Provost focused on the testimony and asked some excellent questions on cross-examination, setting up his counter-theory of the case that the plaintiff was motivated to sue out of some nefarious agenda against the defendant and not because her window had shattered.
Around one, they recessed for lunch, at which point Josh thought it was safe to check his phone. As he pulled it out of his pocket, Mr. Provost said, “Good job today, kid. Let me take you to lunch.”
“Sure,” said Josh, although he wasn’t sure what job he’d performed aside from sitting there quietly.
Most of his messages were work related, but there was a text from Paige in there asking if he had time to talk. As he followed Mr. Provost to the restaurant, he texted back that he did not have time because he’d be in court all day, and he hoped that was okay.
“Responding to stuff from the office?” asked Provost as they walked to the restaurant.
“Oh, no, sorry, my girlfriend,” Josh said without thinking. Probably he should have said work, but too late now. He sighed and pocketed his phone.
“I dated a girl my first year as an associate,” said Provost, sounding a little nostalgic. “Great girl, but I hardly had time to see her.”
“I suppose that didn’t work out, did it?” Josh asked, pocketing his phone.
“She’s not my wife.”
Of course.
“I realize it’s tough the first year or two. We do put you new lawyers through your paces. But it’s in the interest of helping you learn. And certainly, the more hours you bill, the more money the firm makes, so it’s in our interest to keep you busy. But I remember how difficult it was.”
Josh supposed this was Provost’s way of being supportive and sympathetic. Josh nodded and thanked him. This didn’t stop Josh from fretting about Paige being mad at him all through what turned out to be a very good lunch at a little bistro two blocks from the courthouse. Once they were seated, Provost only wanted to talk about work, which was probably for the best because Josh wasn’t that interested in sharing his personal life with his boss.
When they returned to the courthouse, Provost said, “Your job this afternoon is to keep your eye on the jury and let me know if you have any impressions about how they react to testimony.”
“This morning, they looked bored, for the most part,” said Josh.
Provost nodded. “I worried about that. Extracting from the plaintiff witness list, this afternoon is going to be a lot of technical speak about the chemical properties of various kinds of window material, which will bore them more. My hope is that a good scandal will wake them back up when we present our defense.”
Josh was skeptical of this, but he nodded.
Provost’s prediction was correct, and Josh spent all afternoon sitting through testimony from a chemist who specialized in developing new kinds of clear, unbreakable materials. He was there to argue that, if the windows Giardino sold the plaintiff were indeed made out of the material he said they were, they wouldn’t have shattered in the way they did. Provost got him to admit that the storm that did break the plaintiff’s windows was a remarkable occurrence. A tornado had touched down in Brooklyn that night, and though it was a small one, the wind had been significantly faster than New York City typically saw, and there’d been more flying detritus in the air. Although there was no evidence that anything more harmful than a tree branch had gone through the plaintiff’s window, Provost got the expert to admit something larger could have. Josh knew there was a weather expert witness on the defense list who would testify about how rare tornadoes were in New York City.
When court adjourned for the day, Josh saw he had another text from Paige, but then he found himself in the DCL company limo headed back uptown as Provost peppered him with questions about juror facial expressions and whether the glass guy seemed reputable.
So when Josh returned to the office, he was so distracted he forgot to respond to Paige and wasn’t reminded again until about 9:00 p.m. as he took a car service to his apartment for a few hours’ sleep before he head to do this all over again. Being in court was no excuse for not getting through his regular workload, according to Provost.
He glanced at his phone and his heart sank. He texted Paige that he was sorry, but he wondered if he wasn’t adding fuel to the fire of the idea that now was not the right time for them. He thought about calling her, but he didn’t want to be overheard by the driver, and by the time he got home, he was so tired that he went straight to bed, Paige on his mind.
Chapter 18
By the time Friday morning arrived, nothing with Lauren had been resolved and Paige hadn’t been able to talk to Josh much either. Josh had been too busy all week to talk, and maybe that was the answer Paige needed. She would be willing to wait him out if she thought they had a future together, but as the week went on, she was less sure they did. Worse, whether it was in her head or not, Paige couldn’t tell, but it sure seemed like Lauren was keeping her distance. It was starting to feel like she was holding out hope that something would work out with Josh but sacrificing Lauren in the process, and she just wasn’t sure that any of it was worth it or that any of this would work out.
As a result, she’d felt nauseous all week. The harder it was to get in touch with Josh, the more she worried about their future. And with Lauren basically avoiding her, it was hard not to feel like she was about to lose everything. And something had to give.
Midafternoon, when the café was empty, Paige finally said, “I’ll break up with him if that’s what you want.”
“What?”
“Josh. I’ll break up with Josh if that’s what you want.”
