Page 120 of A Dead End Wedding

I picked up the phone and dialed, and he answered on the first ring. "Charlie, it's December. We need to talk."

25

Amazing how a good night's sleep doesn't do a darn thing for you when you're about to go to court on your first criminal case. I stuffed papers in my briefcase, trying to remember if we'd confirmed with Bear more than once that he'd meet me at the courthouse. I had the feeling he was a guy who needed multiple reminders.

Max, sitting across from my desk, whistled. "Pop! Here's a million dollars? Just like that, before discovery even starts?" She shook her head. "Something smells fishy about that. Do you think they've already found out that BDC screwed up somewhere in production?"

"I don't know what it is. All I know is that Charlie said no way, even before I explained why he shouldn't take it. He's afraid that they're using the confidentiality agreement to get out of taking the blame for what they did. I can't say that I disagree with him."

"So I should start sending medical records out to your experts?" Max started making notes.

"Yes, please get the copying going on that. It's going to be a massive project. Also, let's follow up with Mrs. Zivkovich and seeif my cease and desist letter worked on her son-in-law. If not, let's go for the restraining order."

"Okay, med records copy nightmare; see if slimeball backed off. Got it. I'll also follow up on the work we're doing for our variouspro bonoclients and ask Mr. Ellison to create files for our new clients from yesterday. Is that it?"

I stopped rushing around for a moment and stood perfectly still, mentally running through my to-do list. "That's it."

She sighed and stood up. Today's outfit was a champagne-colored silk dress that looked killer on her. I looked down at my dull blue suit and sighed. "You know what we need, don't you?"

"What?" I said glumly, feeling like the ugly duckling.

"Another lawyer. If you hired an associate, you wouldn't be running in fifty directions at once."

I tried not to laugh hysterically. "Right. If I hired an associate with what money, exactly? My savings are disappearing fast. I won't be able to afford you in another twelve weeks."

"Things always work out, D. You wait and see."

Much more waiting-and-seeing, and I'd be waiting-and-seeing in bankruptcy court. Too bad. I wouldn't be able to afford an engagement present for Mike and Brenda.

When I slipped into the back of the courtroom, one of the hottest guys I'd seen inside of a courtroom in . . . well,ever, was standing before the judge. He looked like an actor or a model or – well, anything but a lawyer. I wasted a few happy moments admiring the wavy blond hair and, when he turned around, the terrific cheekbones and gorgeous blue eyes.

He didn't look bad in a suit, either.

Stuffing my overactive libido firmly back down where it belonged, in repression and denial-land, I opened my file on the hearing. Then I scanned the rows of people, but Bear wasn't there yet, so I read over my notes for the thirtieth time since I'd woken up with butterflies the size of law books in my stomach.

Why had Ieveragreed to do this? Sometimes good intentions can overcome good sense, as Dad used to say.

"First offense, first offense, first offense," I muttered to myself. A shadow fell across my notes, and I looked up. The calendar model-turned-lawyer was standing there, smiling down at me, and he looked even better up close and personal.

I'm guessing it's your first offense," he said, still smiling.

"No! I mean, yes, but no. I mean, it's Mr. Anderson's first offense, not mine. I've had lots." I was babbling. I could tell, but the words just kept on coming. "Not lots of offenses, lots of clients. Just not criminal clients."

His smile had changed into a full-on grin. "Judge Bertels is taking a short recess. Would you like to get a cup of coffee and tell me all about it?"

Luckily, Bear walked in right then and saved me from fumbling around to answer. My magic "client is in the room, December morphs into competent attorney" talent kicked in to save me. "Thank you, but I see my client. Perhaps another time," I said coolly, standing up to greet Bear.

A grin quirked at the edge of pretty boy's lips, and he pulled a business card case out of his pocket and handed a card to me. "Matt Falcon. Since I have to wait for the pleasure, let's make it lunch instead. Heightened anticipation and all that," he said.

"December Vaughn," I said, holding my hand out to shake his and making a mental note to check on the status of my business cards. Suddenly, I fiercely missed the good old days when business cards magically appeared in my in-box, and toilet paper magically appeared in the office bathroom.

"If you'll excuse me, Mr. Falcon?—"

"Call me Matt, since we're going to be friends." He nodded to me and walked down the aisle toward the courtroom door, passing Bear on the way. I never even peeked to see if Matt "I'm too smooth for my shoes" Falcon had a great butt or not. (He did.)

"Bear! I'm so glad you're on time. The judge is taking a break, and our case hasn't been called yet, but we should be soon. You look really nice." He'd tamed his bushy red hair, which looked damp, and trimmed his beard. Somehow, he'd even found a suit to fit his enormous girth.

I held out my hand to shake his, but he moved right past it and gave me a hug. I was so shocked, I just stood there, speechless.

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