Objection （n.） – Olivia
OBJECTION (N.):
A LAWYER'S PROTEST ABOUT THE LEGAL PROPRIETY OF A QUESTION WHICH HAS BEEN ASKED OF A WITNESS BY THE OPPOSING ATTORNEY, WITH THE PURPOSE OF MAKING THE TRIAL JUDGE DECIDE IF THE QUESTION CAN BE ASKED.
OLIVIA
My heart hung heavy in my chest after the final arraignment of the day.
No matter how hard I tried to focus on my work, I couldn’t stop thinking about how harshly he’d sentenced Nathaniel Garrison.
During a coffee break, I’d slipped down to the records department and pulled his file—to see if maybe, just maybe, this was his fourth or fifth offense.
It wasn’t, though.
It was his very first.
The man didn’t even have a single parking ticket on his record.
“You can bring me the next set of dockets, Miss Spencer.” Judge Ashton’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I picked up a stack and carried them to his desk. I slammed them down as hard as I could, hoping he would look up at me.
He didn’t.
He continued writing in his notebook, so I picked up the files again and slammed them down even harder.
Still, nothing.
Fine. We’ll do it your way…
I crossed my arms and glared at him, waiting for him to notice.
“Do you have a staring problem, Miss Spencer?” He flipped a page.
“No.” I continued glaring at him. “I don’t.”
“Is there something wrong with your eyes?”
“There’s something wrong with my view.”
“Then feel free to step out of my office and change it.”
“You were dead wrong on that Garrison case this morning.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Dead-ass wrong.”
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion on it.”
“I’m giving it to you for free,” I said. “You were wrong, overtly cruel, and I’m not the only one in the courtroom who felt that way.”
He set down his pen and finally looked up.
“Just because someone was speeding doesn’t make them a terrible person,” I said. “Everyone does it here and there, and there’s this thing called ‘flow of traffic’ that could get you killed if you don’t follow it.”
“I wasn’t aware that you’d passed the bar exam, Miss Spencer.” He narrowed his eyes. “Last I checked, you didn’t even finish law school.”
“You don’t have to go to law school to have common sense and compassion.” I hissed. “But I do recall a lesson on giving other people the same grace you give to yourself.”
“What are you implying?”
“That you’re a terrible judge and everyone hates you.”
“If everyone liked me, I’d be a terrible judge,” he said. “It’s not my job to make friends.”
“That’s probably why you don’t have any of those.”
“I’m pretty sure Mara would say differently.”
“She’s only here because you pay her.”
“Get back to work, Miss Spencer.”
“Only after you reconsider the Garrison case.” I couldn’t get that guy’s tear-stained face out of my mind. “He didn’t deserve that. Just like I didn’t deserve the sentence you gave to me.”
“Miss Spencer, you’ve sped through at least three red lights every morning that I’ve been in the car with you.” He stood up from his chair.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You seem to have no idea what the ‘No U-Turn’ sign means, and you seem to be incapable—fucking incapable—of using your turn signal.”
“Maybe it’s just broken.”
“It’s not.” He walked toward me. “If anything, I’d be doing every person in this city a favor by never allowing you behind the wheel ever again.”
I swallowed. “The entire point of this conversation was about Mr. Garrison, not me.”
“Mr. Garrison has a pending child endangerment case in the family court.” He glared at me. “Two, as a matter of fact—both because of his reckless driving.”
“I didn’t see that on his file when I looked.”
“Because you didn’t look in the right place.” He took one step forward, and I took one back.
Then another.
And another.
The edge of his corner chaise bumped against the back of my thighs.
There was nowhere left for me to go.
“Because again—” He didn’t miss a beat, “you’re not a lawyer, Miss Spencer, and you’re definitely not a judge.”
“You were still extremely rude.” I barely managed. “And um…”
“And um, what?”
“I should probably get back to work now.”
“You should’ve done that five minutes ago.” He pressed his lips against mine, silencing my next sentence with a primal kiss.
I sucked in a breath as he gripped my waist, as my hands found their way against his chest.
I felt his cock hardening against my thigh as his tongue slipped into my mouth, as he silently demanded that I open wider.
Obliging, I moaned as he kissed me deeper, as he bit down on my bottom lip.
Then he froze.
His eyes widened and he tore away from me.
Panting, we both stared at each other.
“Get the hell out of my office and never question my ruling again, Miss Spencer,” he said. “Now.”