Sweetest Kisses: A Single Kiss Part 18

"I'm happy with this resolution." If lonely, and lately, h.o.r.n.y.

"Professional jealousy wasn't the basis of all our problems, though it made splitting up easier. Maybe Louise made the right choice when she ended it with me."

"Louise?" Trent murmured, though he knew exactly which Louise.

"You'll put two and two together. Her Honor, Louise Merriman. We were a hot ticket for a one short, glorious year of law school."

"What happened?" And what flavor of liqueur would Hannah prefer in her hot chocolate?

"I'm still wondering that myself. We went off for our summer a.s.sociate positions between second and third year, and we stayed in touch, but when I came back in the fall, no Louise. She'd transferred to a school several states away, citing money, but money wasn't the reason."

"In the intervening decades, you've never talked about this?" For all that they argued and briefed and pleaded, lawyers were not noted for their ability to just plain talk.

"I got a Fulbright to study comparative law in England. She started right off doing appellate work for one of the big DC firms. We grew apart, until we both ended up on the bench. She didn't marry until right before she ran for a judges.h.i.+p, and I've always wondered if she was truly in love with her husband, or just lonely."

A man could be both in love and lonely.

"You were in love with Helen," Trent said, his hot chocolate growing lukewarm. "Any d.a.m.ned fool could see that."

"I was certainly infatuated, but wait until you're pus.h.i.+ng fifty and some sweet young thing bats her eyes at you."

"I hope if that day comes and I'm still in a position to take advantage of it, I'll be as wise as you were and jump in with both feet." The judge was quiet, doubtless pondering loving and losing, as opposed to never loving at all. "You want a refill?"

"No thanks. I want a pep talk, or a lecture, or someone to tell me I'm not an old fool."

"You know better," Trent said, getting up and collecting both mugs. "You know you wouldn't trade those years with Helen for anything, and you're just gun-shy about trying for some years with Louise. How long has she been a widow? It's been a year now, at least."

"Closer to two. We lost our partners within weeks of each other."

"Then you're burning daylight, Daniel. Get on your horse and go get the girl before some other cowpoke stands up with her."

"What about you? I heard you on the phone with your new a.s.sociate. She could do a lot worse."

Daniel was dodging Trent's last comment, because fools of any age could grow comfortable with their loneliness. Well, h.e.l.l.

"I have a kid to think of, Judge, and that slows a lot of women down, or it should."

"You're burning daylight," Halverston said, his lips turning up. "Best saddle up now, before James beats you to the dance."

"Or Mac. He bears constant watching, you know."

"It will take special women for all three of you," the judge said, rising. "I could swear I've seen Hannah Stark somewhere before."

"I saw her first. Go chase your own dream."

"We're having lunch again next week. Louise and I."

"Kiss her cheek in public. James says it's a surefire way to charm any lady."

Halverston looked intrigued with the notion, and Trent sent him on his way twenty minutes later, with turkey and mashed potatoes to go with that advice. Sometime soon, Trent would take Hannah to lunch and see how surefire James's move really was.

Chapter 9.

"I've had Debbie keep an eye on Hannah," Mac said behind the closed door of James's office. "Hannah has met with all of her clients, looked up all the relevant case law, memorized the facts of each party's situation."

"So she's ready," James said, wondering what a rare visit from Mac was really about. "Trent must be expecting no less, or he would have at least called from the courthouse."

"He's in a weeklong divorce trial," Mac said, his tone suggesting a bout of mononucleosis would be preferable. "He's having lunch with his client, scrambling to return phone calls from other clients, cleaning up as best he can from last week's trial, and he expects us to guard the ranch."

"You said Hannah's doing fine. I can take her to lunch today." She'd laugh at James again, something he'd found unnervingly and genuinely endearing.

"She won't eat. She tossed her danish on Tuesday, developed a migraine yesterday, and she's kept her door shut all morning today. The girl is probably off her feed and pacing her stall all night."

You could take the boy off the farm...

"You want me to tell Trent?"

"No," Mac said. "I want you to sit on your handsome f.a.n.n.y and let her go down in flames while her boss knows nothing and does nothing. She's got court tomorrow, James, her very first contested matters, and Trent has his head up his a.s.s."

In the clouds, perhaps, and wasn't it about d.a.m.ned time?

"Once again," James said, getting to his feet and reaching for his coat, "we must conclude I got all the charm in the family."

"And Trent got the looks, which means I got the only complement of brains. Take my car, it's easer to find a s.p.a.ce for if you're going to the courthouse."

He tossed James the keys and left, muttering something about brothers even the wolves would not have adopted.

"There ought to be a limit on domestic trials," James said. "Three days and they begin to stink, just like fish."

"But oh, the billable hours," Trent replied. "I do love an unhappily married doctor. What brings you to the courthouse?" Though it was good to see a friendly face-very good.

"Let's find a witness interview room."

In other words, James's agenda was personal, or sensitive, or something James wasn't about to let anybody overhear.

"How's the trial going?" James asked when they had the privacy of a small conference room.

"Just fine." Which meant for the opposition, it wasn't going fine at all. "Husband is parading witness after witness in to testify to his fine, upstanding character, his integrity, his fitness as a parent, and to Wife's utter self-absorption, her marginal parental fitness, and her general contemptibility."

James winced, his distaste for family law born of a sensitivity few would have guessed, though Mac was even worse. "Why isn't your client having apoplexy?"

"Because she knows we have Husband's driving record, with no less than three DUIs. We have a former receptionist in the medical office who was the object of Husband's s.e.xual advances, and who was fired when her tolerance for those advances came to an end."

h.e.l.l hath no fury like a receptionist fed up with the boss.

"We also have witness testimony about Husband's evenings of grand rounds," Trent went on, "of the bars that is. Moreover, the children are prepared to tell the judge they've been putting up with weekends at Dad's through the trial because they're afraid of his temper, particularly when he's drinking. What they want, and what their attorney wants, is nothing less than supervised visits with Dad, neutral drop site to be determined."

That recitation should have been gleeful, not exhausted and marginally disgusted.

"Who's opposing counsel?"

"G.o.d bless him, Elvin Gregory." Not the good doctor's most shrewd choice. "I can only conclude Elvin hasn't bothered to read the report of the attorney for the children yet. The d.a.m.ned thing is thirty pages long, and Elvin would have to have read it over the weekend."

"So the physician will be healing himself," James concluded. "But, Brother, not all in your kingdom is going so well."

The uh-oh feeling could land on any parent-especially a working parent-faster than a judge could bring down his gavel.

Trent whipped out his phone. "The school hasn't called. They know if they can't reach me to call you or Mac."

"Another damsel is in distress, counselor. While you're here baiting your trap for bear, Hannah Stark is tearing her hair out back at Comedy Central. Am I right she's never appeared in court before on a contested matter?"

Well, s.h.i.+t. Such was the gravitational pull of a long trial that Trent had to mentally track down what day of the week it was.

"Her first docket is tomorrow. d.a.m.n it all to h.e.l.l."

"We know you're shorthanded, but child support isn't something Mac or I can step in on very easily. Lee is down in DC doing depositions, Ann took vacation this week, and somebody needs to peel your girl off the ceiling or we'll have a disability claim on our hands. Any chance you'll wrap up this afternoon?"

"Hardly." Trent flipped his tie when he wanted to yank the d.a.m.ned thing off. "Husband will conclude his case this afternoon, and I might get through opening argument by four o'clock."

"From the looks of her, I'd say Hannah hasn't slept much this week. Debbie says she's got a migraine going as well."

"She's coming unglued." Trent should have seen this coming, should have known Hannah would never, ever ask for help when she knew he was nose down in a domestic trial.

"To the casual observer, she's a rock," James said. "To the trained eye of the connoisseur-meaning me, not you or Mac-she's in a flat panic, and she deserves more from us than to be left alone to paddle around in the deep end with the sharks."

"She's new, James, but she's not stupid, and the cases aren't complicated. I'm not sure how much help I could be to her." Though he could hold her hand, hold her.

James sat forward and lowered his voice, though the door was closed.

"There is no telling what bombs Matthews left unexploded in those files, Trent. The boy was just not right, and n.o.body was keeping a close eye on him those last few weeks. Margaret Jenson will play fair, but she'll play hardball if she has to."

"Mac was paying attention to Matthews. I should have been." Trent had seen Gerald at the courthouse though, and the guy looked twitchy as h.e.l.l.

"Even you, oh Wonder Dad, can't be two places at once and have eyes in the back of your head. If Gerald's in court this week, you know he was entering his appearance weeks ago, because it takes that long to schedule cases in this benighted jurisdiction."

"You going back to the office?" Trent asked, not wanting to belabor the topic of Gerald Matthews.

"I'll grab something for lunch on the way and try to get Hannah to eat a bite or two."

"She's helpless to resist chocolate mousse. I'll waive my opening argument entirely and ask for an early recess so I can do some last-minute preparation for tomorrow."

"That's a different approach."

"No rule says you have to have an opening argument," Trent said. "I'll explain to the client we're keeping our cards close to our chest. She's a woman scorned, and she likes anything that reduces Husband's chances of standing upright or siring children when this is all over."

Which wasn't exactly cheering. A spouse that thoroughly scorned by her ex could turn around and scorn her lawyer just as enthusiastically.

"You love this?" James asked, tipping his chair back on two legs. "That miserable excuse for a husband is somebody's daddy too, you know."

For James of all people to raise that argument was interesting.

"If he'd acted more like a dad," Trent said, "and less like G.o.d's gift to lonely receptionists and Jack Daniel's shareholders, I might treat him more like a dad."

"I'll look after your nervous filly," James replied, "and you might mention to Mac you appreciate him keeping an eye on things."

"So he can thump on me and snarl something about Merle not bringing me up right?"

"Mac needs his jollies, maybe more than anybody."

James left, and Trent went in search of his client. Mrs. Williams was a statuesque brunette with good bones and a pretty face. She'd age well, and not lack for male appreciation while she did. Trent found her sipping a cola in the bas.e.m.e.nt snack shop.

"Lucy, I hope you're happy with the morning's developments?" Trent slid onto a chair across from her at a table for two.

She jammed her straw into the ice of her drink, repeatedly. "I cannot wait to see his expression when Theresa walks into the courtroom tomorrow morning. That look will be worth putting up with fifteen years of his s.h.i.+t."

Lucy did not mince words, which wasn't prudent when judges and opposing counsel could walk in at any minute.

"Mustn't count our chickens, Lucy. Your former receptionist might not appear, and then our case is not as strong."

"She'll show up. She's no dummy, and she's probably angrier at him than I am."

Trent studied his client, and unease gathered in a low-down place he'd learned to listen to.

"What haven't you told me?" he asked, sitting back and regarding her with his best prosecutorial frown.

She gave the ice another hard jab. "Just that Theresa is about eight months pregnant with the child Doctor Williams told her to abort."

Silence sat between lawyer and client for about thirty seconds, while Trent heard James in his head, going on about the unknowable mind of Woman.

"I wish you'd told me this earlier," he said, humor warring with exasperation. "It changes the complexion of the case, so to speak, and means you'll likely get less child support."

"I'd get less anyway, but I'll make it up in alimony, right?"

"Alimony isn't supposed to be punishment." Though the equities had a way of creeping into a judge's view of the case, by back doors and indirections. "We might want to let your husband know what we have planned, Lucy. His settlement offer could be more than what the judge is supposed to give you, and though they have no patience for him now, the man is your children's father."

"And the father of Theresa's child, who is their half sibling." She kept her voice down, but her tone was fierce. "Doctor Williams has been in that courtroom all week, his pretentious little black bag at his side, making me appear to be a c.o.c.ktail-swilling cow who wants to bleed him dry while I hug his long-suffering children to my gin-soaked bosom rather than let them see their own father."

She banged on the table hard enough to make her drink jump. "I will not bargain with him, not when I put him through medical school. Not when I quit a good job to stay home with the children who never saw him. Not when I tolerated his rages when he did recall he had a family. Infidelity wasn't even the last straw, but a b.a.s.t.a.r.d child he hasn't bothered to inform himself of has destroyed any regard I ever had for him or his standing in the community."