Page 6 of Rejection Overruled

What a silly notion. My head told me it was childish, but my emotions would not let it rest. I’d have my revenge, and it started in that moment. I didn’t know what came over me, but the urge to get back at him for that rejection gnawed at me.

“Have it your way, Miss Owens,” he said in a low growl as he brushed passed me. “By the way,” he turned and dropped his eyes to my bosom, then back to my face. “You do look pretty when you’re plotting.”

Before I could retort with a smart comeback, he was gone and I was left with my mouth hanging. We had twelve minutes to get to the Judge’s chambers and my knees wobbled as I left the building.

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in front of the judge. Judge Morris did not seem happy about the meeting. His black beady eyes observed us as we waited to hear what he wanted to say.

“What happened today?” the judge asked.

Styles and I glanced at each other before I replied. “What do you mean, Sir?”

“Don’t pretend with me Miss Owens. I know you very well, you’re smarter than that. You forgot I’ve known you since you were in diapers?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Jim.” I slinked back into my chair as my father’s longtime friend scolded me for misbehaving in his presence.

“And you young man. I thought you were more level headed than that. I know Brooke here can be a bit erratic….” He glanced at me and I opened my mouth to respond, but snapped it shut. “But you, I thought you would at least keep things civil.”

“Sir, I …,” Jamal started but Judge Morris held his hand up.

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. There are too many cases on the book and this was supposed to be a done deal. Now you two fix it and get those two people to settle. When you’re done, you get back to me to sign off on the final agreement. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes Sir,” we both agreed.

5 - Brooke

Jamal and I had to reach an agreement on both our client’s behalf and I hated the idea. I wanted to rip him to threads every time I thought about him. I could not remember hating anyone as much I hated him, yet, I could not help but admire his butt.

“I’m too horny. I need to find myself a man,” I mumbled, pushing aside the fact that the very thought of him brought back those feelings from high school.

At seventeen, every time I saw Jamal I’d break out into cold sweat. My belly would burn and my heart galloped like Sophia’s grandfather’s mule named Ginny.

Often, I’d spend holidays in Jamaica with Sophia at her grandparents. Ginny was wild and she would spook easily. Someone – not mentioning any names – would set firecrackers behind her shed and she would come flying out full speed. Ginny could be seen galloping through the community of Somerset for the entire day. The only one who could calm her and get her back inside that shed was Sophia’s granddad.

Erasing those memories from my immediate thoughts, I came back to the Anderson case. Now that I had some time alone and a glass of my favorite wine, I was able to think clearly. I was eager to close this case so that I would not have to see Jamal Styles again. But the need for revenge would not let me be. Although I told myself to let it go, I knew I didn’t really want to.

If this case was to settle, I wanted to be the one to make it right. I put away the file I was reading and picked up the cordless house phone. Somehow, I’d managed to memorize Jamal’s number within the last few hours after having Sophia find out everything she could about him.

With stiff fingers, I dialed. He picked up almost immediately. “Styles here,” was the arrogant answer.

“Mr. Styles, it’s Brooke Owens….”

“Miss Owens, I was just about to call you. I was wondering…,” he continued as though he was the one who called me.

“Mr. Styles, you may not have realized, I called you.”

“I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“Can we meet tomorrow at around ten at my office to discuss where we go from here?”

“Wait a minute, Miss Owens. Why should I come to your office? I have an office too and you’re the one calling this meeting.”

“Listen styles, I have no interest in coming to your office. You know what. All I wanted to do was solve this problem and be done with it…,” my voice had lifted a decibel and my face burned.

“Whoa there. Hold on,” he cajoled. “All I was suggesting was neutral territory, Miss Owens. Perhaps we could meet in the middle?”

I expelled a few breaths as I now realized I was breathing rapid and short. When did I get so riled up? The very sound of Jamal’s voice upset me that I wanted to be done with this immediately.

“Okay. Where?” I asked.

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