Page 82 of Puck Daddies
The judge holds out his palm. “Ms. Mornay, you may speak through your attorney only for the time being.” The judge taps his pencil twice and sets it down. “Here’s where I am. The notices show sloppiness at best and gamesmanship at worst. Thelending packet raises concerns I cannot resolve in chambers, but I’m not going to ignore it. I am voiding the eviction notices for bad faith and abuse of process, enjoining any new notices pending a full hearing, and referring the lending materials to the Attorney General and the CFPB for inquiry.”
Their lawyer starts to object. The judge holds up a hand. “I’m not finished.”
He looks at Callie’s counsel. “The emails sent by Ms. Mornay’s account are unprofessional and, given the context, harassing. The timing of the inspection and follow-up suggests a pattern of pressure beyond normal business. Under my inherent authority and the rules governing counsel conduct, I am issuing sanctions. Ms. Mornay’s firm will issue a public apology to Ms. Bridges within three business days and will cover Ms. Bridges’s reasonable legal costs to date. Further contact will be through counsel only. Violations of the order will result in a contempt of court charge, Ms. Mornay.”
Silence. Callie goes still. Luke’s face drains, and then it resets to a blank expression.
“We will set an evidentiary hearing on ownership, notices, and any remaining injunctive relief. Counsel, confer on dates. My clerk will find us a half day within two weeks. Draft the order. Keep it tight. If there’s a violation between now and then, come back to me on an order to show cause.” He stands. “We’re done. Do not make me come back here early, you two. This is little more than a lovers’ spat, but you used my court to drag it out. Mark my words, if you do anything to violate my orders, there will be hell to pay.”
We file out to the hall. Meg stands with her back to the wall and exhales all at once. I hand her water. She drinks half and handsit back. Dana is already at the bench outside chambers red-lining the draft while their lawyer fusses with language he can’t save. Callie stares at her phone like it can undo anything. Luke takes a step like he’s going to speak to Meg.
Dana looks up. “You heard the judge. Do you really want to violate his orders? And your lawyer should be the one reminding you. Not me. You should fire him.”
Luke stops. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.
“What’s ridiculous is ruining people’s lives because your new girlfriend threw a hissy fit. Addaway, everything is going to come out about you, this bullshit, and your crooked business practices. Seriously, get a better lawyer.”
He stands a little taller, eyeing Dana. “You offering?”
She snorts a laugh at him. “You serious?”
“You don’t needher,” Callie snaps. “I’m twice the lawyer she is. I?—”
“Can it, you moron,” Dana cuts her off. “You’re part of the reason he’s in this mess. As a lawyer, you should have known better than to try to screw over someone like this. I’ll be speaking to the bar about this case, Mornay.”
Callie starts to speak, but thinks better of it. No doubt the judge’s words are ringing in her ears, or her bruised pride is shutting her up. Whatever it is, I’m grateful.
The clerk calls us back in five minutes later. The judge signs everything, and the stamped order hits the table. It’s all paperwork from there until we’re done.
Outside, Meg calls Tom on speaker. Her voice shakes, but only on the first couple of words. “We’re open. We’re not moving. The judge made them apologize and pay Dana.”
Tom whoops. I hear Bex hollering in the background and Anthony saying he told the tile wall we’d keep it. Aqua says, deadpan, “I’ll laminate the order.”
But the day isn’t over yet.
Pregame, the room is calm. Coach writes three words on the board:KEEP IT SIMPLE.We dress. Hudson tapes left to right. Rocco sings one line under his breath. I check my laces twice.
The game is tight. First period ends scoreless. Second, they get one on a deflection we can’t do anything about. We tie it on a power-play point shot through traffic. Third is trench work. Coach rolls four. He keeps our line fresh for the last five.
Between periods, Coach draws on the board. “O zone left. Ellis point shot. Rocco screen. Hudson high tip. Fitz offhand for the rebound. If it goes weak side, Carter pinches. Go.”
We take the draw left circle. Rocco sets. He locks eyes with me. He wins it clean back to Ellis. Ellis drags to the middle and snaps it low blocker. Hudson slides into the high slot and points his blade. The shot hits his stick and changes angle. The goalie kicks it out. Hell.
It dies at the top of the blue, but I’m not finished. I crash from the off wing and bang it before the goalie can reset. It hits pad, post, in. Horn.
The bench explodes. We skate the line, gloves, helmets, quick pats. Coach yells, “Still got a game to finish!” and we lock it downfor the last shift. They pull the goalie. Carter blocks one with a thigh and stays upright. I clear a rebound past the red. Horn.
The arena erupts, but I’m left standing there, watching their goalie curse out his team. I blink at the scoreboard. No way. No fucking way.
Rocco’s giant hand pats my shoulder. “Hey, man. You good?”
“Did…did we just win?”
Not a second later, the team swarms me as an answer. We won. That’s why everyone is losing their minds. In the locker room, we don’t do speeches. We nod at each other and breathe. Coach bangs the board and points at the schedule. “Four more, and we’re in it for the division.”
Unreal.
We do the media. I keep it to hockey. PR cuts off anything personal. Easy peasy.
