Page 16 of Rejection Overruled

After the formalities, Judge Morris asked that we approach the bench. A few snorts were heard from the back of the room and the judge lightly tapped his gavel and ordered for silence.

“I see you two are once again before me,” the judge said, eyeing us both. “I’m warning you two not to cause any trouble.”

The laughter at the back of the room got louder and Judge Morris rapped the wood. He dismissed us and we were about to head back to our seats when the man on the bench sternly reproached me.

“Mr. Styles, do you think this is a circus?”

I turned to face the judge, my brows knitted in confusion. I had no clue to what he was referring. “I beg your pardon Your Honor?”

“This is a courtroom and not some high school classroom where you can do as you please.”

At that moment, I had a feeling that something I wasn’t privy to was taking place. Chancing a look, I glanced a Brooke. She was writing on her legal pad, her eyes cast down.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Sir,” I replied.

“Approach, Mr. Styles,” he instructed, his voice quite demanding. As soon as I reach the bench, the judge continued. “You get that off your back at once and let’s proceed with this hearing.”

“My back?” I still hadn’t comprehended what he was talking about.

One of the security guards beckoned me and I approached him. With a smile, he reached behind me, then presented me with a sheet of paper. I stared at the words written in Sharpie, ‘It’s really very small.’

“Brooke Owens,” I grounded through clenched teeth.

I knew she was responsible. All that drama in the elevator was just to do something childish as this. I was amazed that a brilliant mind as Brooks could sink to such toddler levels. Apparently, she was reliving her high school years. Strangely, I didn’t blame her. She’d spent the better part of high school hiding in the math club or in a science lab. What actually surprised me was that she hadn’t chosen to become a researcher or medical doctor.

I crunched the sheet of paper into a tight ball, having the urge to toss it at her. The Judge was watching me and I calmly returned to my seat, keeping my eyes on the culprit. She was looking at me, barely containing her amusement. The twinkle in her eyes told me she had once again challenge me and I would be damned if I let it slide.

Clearing my throat, I stood to speak on behalf of my client. As I told the judge about the prenuptial agreement between my client and his wife, I expected Brooke to object. She didn’t. She sat back in her chair watching me with a serene look on her face. I knew something was wrong. My client was squirming in his seat as his wife stared pointedly at him. That’s when I remembered he was about to tell me something when the case was called.

When I returned to my seat, my client leaned in to speak but I stopped him. “Not now Richard. Let’s hear what she has planned, shall we?”

To be honest, I was anticipating what Brooke had up her sleeves. One thing was certain, there was never a dull moment with her in the room. As she stood in her stilettos and knee length skirt suit, I was drawn to the curve of her hips.

The room became unusually silent when she stood up front. Her eyes ran across the room and briefly settled on each person there, then it came to my client. Everyone’s eyes glued to Brooke Owens, the 100% divorce attorney. But it wasn’t that she never lost a case why they stared, it was her flowing reddish brown hair and those piercing brown eyes of hers. She had presence. Brooke was gorgeous.

Richard’s eyes bulged as he too was obviously taken with his wife’s attorney. I sat back and waited for what I knew was going to be a bombshell. Without a word, Brooke returned to her desk, picked up a cell phone.

“You’re honor,” she said. “May I play this recording for the court?”

“What it is?” the judge asked.

“It’s evidence that could affect the outcome of this hearing, Your Honor.”

“Bring it,” Judge Morris beckoned. “I will play it here near the microphone so that everyone can hear it.”

“Thank you.”

Richard leaned close to speak once more, but I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. “No, let’s hear this together, Richard,” I said.

A few seconds passed before a conversation between Richard Dennison and his wife filled the room.

“Richard, you know I’m recording this agreement, right here and now,” Sheila said. “You can’t change your mind.”

“Alright Sheila, forget the prenup and just give me a divorce.”

“Are you serious Richard? I don’t want you changing your mind about this.”

“I Richard Dennison hereby declare our prenuptial agreement null and void on this the 20th day of October in the presence of my secretary, Sara Brown.”

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