Page 18 of Contention

When it’s time to get ready for the day, Kara moves like a snail in sludge.I feel like a heap of garbage.

Donning a grey, knee length dress with a black blazer, she slips into her black three-inch heels and forgoes her usual eye makeup routine. Can’t quite muster the motivation for that, nor for her contacts. Pulling her dark hair up into a clip, she blearily searches for her glasses and puts them on, the wide black rims framing her face.

Jailbait-esque librarian? It seems so, today.

As an afterthought, Kara decides to change her mind on makeup after looking at her face. She quickly lines the corner of her eyes with eyeliner, just to seem somewhat alive. And to not look like a fourteen-year-old masquerading as a lawyer.

She opts to take her car over to court; the morning rain is bad enough that she already knows it will be hard to catch a cab. She’s already running behind schedule; the weather will only make it worse regardless.

She gets into her dark grey Nissan Altima and heads out, head still full of phantom aches.

Bob and Debra give her a look as she takes her seat beside them in the courtroom. Bob raises his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkling. “Well. I take it you didn’t get around to speaking with the PI yesterday?”

“That obvious?” God, she hopes she doesn’t smell like alcohol, sweating through her pores.

The older man nods his head sagely. “Oh, yeah. Not a good showing, junior. Aren’t you a little old to be going on benders during the work week?”

Seeing her expression fall further, Debra Mills says, “Oh, Bob, leave her alone. She’s young. She’s here, isn’t she?”

Bob backs down, giving their client a grin. “Hey, she’s working on your dime. But, I’m more worried about the impression it gives our boss.” He turns back to looking at Kara. “Just trying to coach you. No judgement.”

“Oh, sure.” Because it had sounded pretty judgy. But, Kara lets it slide off her exterior.

When Derrick arrives, Kara studiously pretends to be going through documents, though her eyes are glancing over the words without focusing on anything. Her stomach is still roiling and she’s busy trying to keep her panic down.

How is she going to fake it through this day?

“Kara?”

She snaps out of it, turning her head to look at Derrick, seated on the other side of their client. “Yes? What did you say?”

His lips purse as he eyes her suspiciously. “Did you get around to getting anything documented with the PI yesterday? We need to start applying to bring in new witnesses if we can crack the NDA situation. You know all new witnesses need to be relayed to the defense before arriving in court.”

Kara’s stomach sinks with disappointment in herself. She screwed up big and it could cause delays. “I didn’t, Mr. Benson.”

Derrick inhales slowly, keeping an outwardly cool demeanor. He’s a professional; he’s not prone to outbursts. “…and why is that, may I ask?”

Bob shuffles his papers nonsensically, as if trying to disappear from between the two of them. Kara opens her mouth to reply when loud laughter filters in with the opening of the doors behind them.

Then, she hears a familiar voice and her skin prickles instantly.

Kara tries her best to seem unaffected as she hearshimenter with Rugby, the two talking in loud, laughing tones some distance behind her as they make their way to their table. Kara’s right hand still has a bright green band-aid on it from the night before and she quickly places it in her lap.

Hisfootsteps are so loud. Is she the only one who can hear them? The confidentthud thud thudthat seems to echo in her head with every step he takes? It’s worse when he finally passes where she’s sitting; his cologne wafts by her in a wave of warmth and coziness that she loathes.

She doesn’t look to her right, not to where the defense sits. Her mouth is dry and she feels like she’s overheating, like she’s going to suffocate in this room. Derrick is still waiting for her response when Judge Canry arrives, calling the court to order.

Today, the defense announces a split in counsel. Judge Canry simply frowns, grumbling in his senior age. “I can’t say I’m surprised, Mr. Havenwood-Calais. I take it you will be the one representingyourgood friend, Mr. Brooker?”

Nicholas Havenwood-Calais makes an odd little scoffing noise through his teeth as he looks down at his papers briefly before meeting the Judge’s eyes again. “I’m not sure how that is relevant, Your Honor, but I will be representing Paxton Brooker going forward. Mr. Dotaire has accepted the services of my senior associates.”

Derrick drums his fingers on the table, glowering, as if angry that what he assumed would come to pass did indeed happen. Kara sighs; this leaves them with two defenses to beat.

The proceedings move forward; today, the defense has brought a psychologist. Apparently, they believe they can psychobabble away the rape charge. Kara rubs her forehead, listening to the man in his late sixties telling the jury that it isn’t uncommon for a woman to became ‘ashamed’ of her needs, to try and turn it backwards on a man.

He’s not wrong, but he’s also not entirely right, Kara muses. Of course, there are bad apples out there that cry wolf and ruin it for the true victims. But this isn’t that case and his words leave a sour taste in her mouth. Or, that could be the bile creeping up her throat from all the alcohol consumed the night prior.

Derrick asks her to cross examine the man and on a normal day, this would be fine. But this isn’t a normal day. Today, Kara can barely find the energy to balance on her heels with an outward elegance. Today, Kara feels like trash and she feels a thousand eyes on her as she stands before the expert witness, trying to make him misstep.

---