Consequential Damages （n.） – Liam
CONSEQUENTIAL DAMAGES (N.):
DAMAGES CLAIMED AND/OR AWARDED IN A LAWSUIT WHICH WERE CAUSED AS A DIRECT FORESEEABLE RESULT OF WRONGDOING.
LIAM
One Week Later
“Your Honor?” A harsh voice echoed off the walls.
I can’t believe Olivia still hasn’t called or texted me.
“Judge Ashton?”
I’m not calling her, though. She’s the one who fucked ‘us’ up…
“JUDGE. ASHTON.” The voice sliced through my thoughts, making me look up and face reality.
What the…
I was sitting on the bench, facing a damn near-empty courtroom. There was only one defendant and her lawyer left.
The clock on the wall read four fifty-two, and Miss Julia was standing at the podium with her hands on her hips.
“We’re awaiting your ruling on this case, sir,” she said.
“My apologies.” I cleared my throat. “Please repeat what you’re suggesting, Miss Julia.”
“The state is requesting a half a million dollar bail—if you grant bail, passport turnover, and a mandatory GPS tracking device.”
“For a first offense?” I glanced down at the docket.
“The defendant is a danger to society,” she said. “Anyone who would willingly engage in this type of behavior at twenty-five years old is at risk to repeat it again.”
“Defense?” I looked at the other side. “Your take?”
“My client and her friends were skinny dipping off a private dock on The Hudson River, Your Honor,” he said. “This is a simple trespassing charge—a misdemeanor at best—and the state is going overboard with the charges here.”
“I agree.” I scribbled down a note to myself. “Defendant will be released on her own recognizance with a stern warning to read and follow ‘private property’ signs from here on out.”
I banged my gavel. “You’re dismissed.”
“Permission to talk to you in private, Your Honor?” Miss Julia asked.
“As long as it’s not about this case.”
“It’s not, sir.”
“You can follow me into chambers, then.” I stood up and strolled into my office.
I unzipped my robe and tossed it onto a chair, shaking away another random thought of Olivia.
It was bad enough that I missed her when I was at home, but being in the office made it more than clear that she was the best law clerk I’d ever had.
Julia stepped inside seconds later, slamming the door shut behind her.
“With all due respect, sir,” she said, “I need to know what’s going on with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been off—way off—for weeks, and at the rate you’re going, I’m willing to bet that you’d let a murderer out on bail if he gave you the right smile.”
“I’m pretty sure that I just kept five of those locked up this week.”
“Only because I fucking pressed you on it,” she said. “You’ve been in goddamn la-la-land for almost all the latest arraignments.”
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to right now?” I arched a brow. “Better yet, is he in the room with us?”
“I’m only letting you know what everyone else in my office has been saying…” She let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re not being the Judge Ashton that we’re used to, and we’re hoping that nothing is wrong.”
Everything is wrong.
“I appreciate your concern.” That was all I could say to that. “I’ll have Mara get some interns to flag and make notations on this week’s cases. I lost my senior clerk a couple weeks ago, so…”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Well, that explains things. I’m so sorry.”
“Is there anything else we need to discuss?” I asked.
“Yeah.” She pulled a folded sheet from her pocket. “Here are the notes on my office’s upcoming investigation into you.”
“Are you trying to lose your job?”
“Just wanted to give you a heads up.” She shrugged. “They’ll be watching you very closely during the Jenkins retrial, so stay away, okay?”
“Okay.” I stuffed the sheet into my drawer. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She walked to the door. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did she die?”
“What?”
“Your law clerk,” she said. “How did she die?”
I blinked, confused.
“That’s what you meant when you said you ‘lost’ her.” She tilted her head to the side. “Right?”
“No, I meant she quit.”
“Ohhhh.” She laughed. “Oh, okay. That’s so much better than the rumors, then.”
“Is it?”
“I mean, yeah,” she said, cackling even louder. “Before you told me that, some of my colleagues were assuming someone broke your heart.”
“Glad my pain could make you laugh.”
“I knew better than to believe that, though.” She snorted. “You don’t have a heart to break…”