Page 12 of Love and Order

“Your son is twelve. As soon as court is called to order, I’ll request a sidebar with the judge to highlight the child in court. Your husband’s lawyers know the judge won’t permit him to stay, they are just trying to get in your head,” Hailey said, jotting down a note.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Tovar said.

For the next thirty minutes, Finn was spellbound. He was all but useless as the judge sided with Hailey on the removal of the twelve-year-old from the courtroom. The judge then admonished the opposing attorney for even considering trying to expose the young man to his parents’ contentious divorce. Next she presented their case and even submitted into evidence the sales reports for Mrs. Tovar’s last two years of business and tax records, letters of incorporation, and annual reports on the ownership and management of the company, none of which included Mr. Tovar. The defense attempted to rattle Hailey by bringing up specific details about the sex toys and their concepts that they alleged were developed jointly between the couple. Hailey didn’t flinch.

“I could talk about making a Beef Wellington all day long, but it would take a real chef to execute the meal,” she retorted.

Finn stifled a laugh behind a cough, but Mrs. Tovar grinned from ear to ear.

Her articulation of the law and detailed knowledge of precedence was exacting and irrefutable. The judge seemed to agree and set the trial date for three weeks later. But when they exited the courthouse, there were news crews shouting questions to Mr. and Mrs. Tovar about their sex toy kingdom. The salacious questions were all asked in front of their son Timothy, and any hope Mrs. Tovar had of telling her son on her own terms was gone. She tried to shield him from the cameras and talk to the young man, but Mr. Tovar took a hold of their son’s arm.

“Your court appointed time with our son is next week. Don’t make me take you to court for violating the custody agreement in place,” her soon-to-be ex barked as he pulled their son away.

“Sorry, Mom,” the Tovar’s son yelled as he was pulled down the sidewalk outside the courthouse.

“Never get married, and never give anyone the power to hurt you with your own child,” Mrs. Tovar said to them both as she put on her dark sunglasses and walked away toward her own car service waiting for her at the bottom of the court steps.

“I don’t plan to,” Hailey muttered.

“Shit, I need a drink after that.”

“Agreed.”

He was surprised she was willing to spend time with him that didn’t pertain to their case but suspected it was all part of her bigger plan. But any chance to spend more time with her outside of the office was a win, so he was happy to play along.

They walked toward the trendy bars and restaurants along the river walk, and Finn considered his options. Should he bow out of the case and let Hailey handle it? She was more than qualified. But then he would have to admit to Baxter he was having second thoughts about practicing private law, which he wasn’t sure he was ready to do. Worse, if he did step away, would they assign another rookie to work with her? He assumed he had another year or two in the rookie bullpen before he had to decide whether he was cut out for private practice or if he needed to try something with more grit. Although after today, private practice was looking grimier than expected.

“There’s a good spot just one more block away. Do you like whiskey?” she asked.

According to his watch, it was only ten thirty in the morning.

“Have you met an Irishman that doesn’t?”

He followed Hailey’s lead into what looked like a hole-in-the-wall, with a heavy steel door and no sign other than the address.

“Is this where you have me killed and secure your promotion?”

“That would take all the fun out of beating you.”

Once the door closed and his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he took in the high ceilings, leather lounge chairs paired at tables made from big wooden casks, and brass piping running along the tops of the walls. A floor-to-ceiling glass room sat behind an intricate bar, where large vats of whiskey he presumed were made.

“If the whiskey is half as good as the ambiance, I’ll have to bring my brothers here,” he said.

“How many siblings do you have?”

“I have two brothers and one sister. Charlotte’s in New York, but my brothers are both local. Do you have any siblings?”

“Nope.” Leaning against the bar, Hailey ordered them each a pour of what they called Number 87 and two cheeseburgers with the works.

“Did you have to try eighty-seven whiskeys to figure out which one was your favorite?”

“I’ve probably sampled all of their whiskeys, but number ninety-one is my favorite.”

“I don’t think you’ll like it. It’s on the mellow side.”

“I like mellow, sometimes.” He cringed knowing he sounded cheesy, but something about her made him willing to be a complete fool, if necessary, just to get her attention. Maybe he should ask her if she wanted him to step down from the case, especially if his heart wasn’t interested in the partnership. But he wasn’t willing to give up the next few weeks of time with her. He was just going to have to decide what he wanted before the partners selected a partner.

The bartender sat their whiskeys down, neat. He held his up to inspect the amber color, and then waited for her to pick up her glass.

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