Page 85 of Defend Me

“Well, like I said before, your drinks are on the house,” Jake says. “Linda May, there will be no charge for their table.”

“Sure thing, Jake,” she says.

Jake claps me on the shoulder. “This is all going to be over soon and your name will be cleared,” he says confidently.

“I know,” I say, glancing at Von. “I’ve got the best lawyer in the business.”

“I’ll say,” Jake replies.

Von tries not to look too pleased with herself.

“Noah, the usual?” he asks. I nod.

“I’ll take a white wine, Jake,” Von says. “Whatever’s driest.”

“Dirty martini with extra olives,” Grayson pipes up.

“You got it,” Jake says as Linda May leads us out back. It’s a touch chilly but still pleasant out on the patio, and we take a table in the corner. The bay stretches out in front of us and the park off to our left is full of kids playing, teens kicking a soccer ball around, and a few moms doing an outdoor yoga class. People ride bikes, or walk dogs, or sit on benches reading books. I feel myself relax even further as Linda May brings out our drinks.

This is my home. This is where I belong.

As Linda May puts my beer down, she leans in and whispers, “I believe in you, Noah. I don’t think you did it.”

“Thanks, Linda May,” I say, as Von shoots her a suspicious glance. She hurries back inside.

“One more person on my side,” I say brightly.

“Yes,” Von says, swirling her wine in her glass. “Though that one seems like she goes whichever way the wind is blowing.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s blowing in my direction,” I point out. Von sits across from me, the autumn sun making her hair glow like embers. I can’t help nudging her foot with my foot. Her lips twitch and she puts her sunglasses on to hide her expression.

“Cheers,” Grayson says, raising his martini glass. “To a speedy trial and a not guilty verdict.”

“Cheers,” I echo as we all clink.

Suddenly, Charlotte bursts out onto the patio, her thick dark curls caught up by the wind, her expression ecstatic. “You’re back!” she cries. I get up to hug her.

“It’s good to see you, Char,” I say.

She plops down in the seat next to Von. “God, it’s nice to be around adults. I love those kids but there’s a stomach bug going around. The amount of vomit I had to clean today was…” She shudders. Linda May comes out to take her order. “I’ll have the largest glass of red wine Jake can pour me,” Charlotte says. Then she turns to Grayson. “Hi, I’m Charlotte, who the fuck are you?”

“Oooh, sassy,” Grayson says approvingly. “Grayson Ling, at your service. Von’s second chair.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Charlotte says. “I asked Isla to come but she’s making a gazillion cupcakes for some trophy wife’s baby shower in the Hamptons.” She turns to Von. “So what’s the plan? How can we help Noah?”

“This is a good start,” Von says, nodding her chin at the other patrons filling the patio tables. “We want to remind people Noah’s still the same guy they all grew up with. In the meantime, I’ve got a giant list of people to interview. I could use some help with sorting out who everyone is and creating some scale of how useful their testimony might actually be.”

“I can help with that,” I remind her.

Charlotte nods. “And I can get Mrs. Greerson in the loop. She knows everyone in a twenty-mile radius going back to their great-great-grandparents. If we want this town on Noah’s side, we’ll need her help.”

Linda May comes back with Charlotte’s drink, and Alistair in tow. “Hey all,” he says, plopping into the seat beside Grayson.

Conversation flows freely as Alistair chats with Grayson about his accommodations at the Thorn and Charlotte tells a story about having to dislodge an eraser from a student’s nose. I laugh along with everyone else, but my awareness is on the woman sitting across from me. I long to press my knee against hers, to have some physical connection. I know we’ve got to keep up appearances in public—no way am I going to jeopardize Von’s career—but it’s so hard not to let my eyes linger on the curve of her neck or the way her delicate fingers curl around her wineglass. I pick up my pint and take a big chug of beer.

As the afternoon wears on, the people stare at me less, and a few even come over to offer words of support, like Linda May did. Alistair is telling some bawdy joke that makes Charlotte almost spit out her wine when Von’s phone rings.

“Von Everton,” she says, then sits upright. Grayson and I are on immediate alert. “Stan, hi. Thanks for getting back to me…you found them! …. No, that’s fine, I don’t mind…Great, we can be there in fifteen.”

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