Three
Kai
The incessant beeping of my alarm is in sync with the harsh, unforgiving morning light as it slices through the bedroom blinds.
I really should invest in some blackout curtains.
Crawling out of bed after turning off the phone's alarm, I'm reminded of why I didn't sleep much last night–the oversized coffee cup on the nightstand, scattered files across the floor, and the discarded picture of Shaun next to me in bed.
It's a stark reminder of the impossible choice I need to make.
A battle that isn't in the courtroom but in my mind.
I spent most of last night reviewing witness testimonies, clinical data, and the associated medical jargon.
I even called my parents to see if they could clarify some things for me, but they were busy at a medical conference.
It took a while for them to accept that I was going into law and not medicine, but Mom seemed happy that they could help me with this case.
I'm driving to Rockport Ridge next weekend for dinner and to get their perspective.
I just hope I have a week since Malloy was adamant on Shaun settling.
The firm's expectations are a relentless pressure, a constant hum beneath the surface of my turmoil.
All the partners are ruthless, and they don't care who they destroy on their way to the top, as long as they win and walk away with big bonuses.
Mr. Malloy is the newest partner and has more to prove than the others.
He expects results in this case to be swift and decisive.
To him, this case is just another feather in their firm's cap, another win to add to their impressive track record.
But to me, it's a personal minefield. A battle between my heart and head, between the man I once thought I was falling in love with and the career I am working so hard to build.
If I win this case, it could launch my legal career and open up opportunities for me in other areas of law beyond family law.
I am not ruthless like the other lawyers here at the firm. I want to do what's right and let the law decide people's fate. That's why I became an attorney. I wanted to make a difference, not a fortune.
Traffic is typical for a Monday morning, but it gives me time to stew in my thoughts about Shaun and my ethical dilemma, which is nearly as complex as the medical details of the case itself.
The conflict of interest is undeniable, a blatant violation of the very principles I'd sworn to uphold.
I am a lawyer, bound by a code of conduct that sets forth a set of ethical guidelines demanding objectivity, impartiality, and a duty of loyalty to my client.
Who is Heather…not Shaun . But how can I be objective, how can I be impartial, when my client is suing Shaun, the man who still holds a place in my heart after all these years?
The legal standards require a conflict check, a review that would highlight the ethical dangers of representing my client.
This clear and present conflict would render representation all but impossible.
I will just have to tell Mr. Malloy to find someone else.
Yet the thought of walking away, of abandoning the case altogether, doesn't sit right with me either.
It feels as if I'm tossing Shaun to the mercy of the legal system. It feels like a betrayal of sorts.
For the remainder of the drive, my internal monologue goes through a relentless inner debate.
Can I truly separate my personal feelings from my professional duties?
The answer eludes me. I'd spent years studying law and building my reputation at the firm.
I sacrificed relationships, pushed myself to the brink of exhaustion, all in the pursuit of success.
That success, that meticulously crafted reputation, is now threatened by the re-emergence of someone I thought I'd buried six years ago.
I am trapped in a paradox, a legal and emotional knot that, once tightened, will be impossible to release.
…
The modern minimalist design of the conference room offers no refuge, no comfort. The sleek lines of the furniture mock my inner turmoil, the muted greys and whites a stark contrast to the vibrant spectrum of emotions raging within me.
As I pace another lap around the room, the thoughts of the countless hours spent studying law and mastering the intricate details of legal procedure come into focus.
I am a professional. I've perfected my courtroom strategies, and I've never lost my cool in front of a judge.
I've dedicated myself to this profession, to the pursuit of justice, believing in the power of the law to right wrongs.
Now, that belief is challenged, questioned, and threatened by the sheer force of my personal feelings.
I spent the weekend scanning the entire file onto several USB drives.
The legal arguments for Shaun's defense were clear.
But, I also saw gaps in our firm's case against him. Shaun’s attorney could construct a solid defense based on the lack of conclusive evidence of negligence.
However, something isn't adding up with our client either.
The ethical considerations are a constant undercurrent, a dark shadow lurking in the corner. I could win this case, utilizing my skills to secure my client's payout and earn a nice bonus check. But at what cost? The cost of Shaun's reputation? Career? His…everything?
Movement in the hallway pulls me from my thoughts as I see several people outside the glass wall.
The room is soundproof, so I can't hear the conversations.
A lump lodges in my throat as Shaun is escorted into the conference room by Rebecca.
I look up at the clock, and we still have about ten minutes until the meeting begins.
"Dr. Whitmore, this is Mr. Kai Kapling. He has taken over as lead prosecution on this case for the firm and will be meeting with you this morning.
The others will be in shortly." Rebecca says gently, offering me one of her soft smiles before closing the door behind her.
How can she work for Mr. Malloy? She's too kind for that horrible man.
Shaun's mouth is agape. Shaking his head. "Kai?"
"Hello, da–" I catch myself before clearing my throat and tacking on, "Dr. Whitmore. It's nice to see you again." I tell him, voice shaky. Where the hell did daddy almost come from? It's because he has always been your daddy, my inner dialogue supplies. Protect him .
"Dr. Whitmore. Sounds so formal coming from you," he tells me teasingly before putting his palms up to me.
"I know. We need to keep it professional.
But, if I may, you look well. I'm glad to see life has treated you kindly," he tells me sincerely. His eyes glistening with unshed tears. Not sure if it’s from seeing me, or what he’s gone through with the lawsuit.
Maybe both. My eyes follow suit, and I feel the sting.
"Thank you. I must admit, I was shocked on Friday when they handed this case over to me and saw your name on it. This is difficult for me. And I think you know why." I tell him, concern lacing my tone.
"You have a job to do. I expect you to do it to the best of your ability. Show Daddy how good you are." He gives me a wink, and I feel my face heat. "Make me proud."
The longing in his eyes is undeniable. When I look up to the glass wall, Mr. Malloy is smirking as he makes his way into the room with some documents in hand.
"Dr. Whitmore, it's good to see you again," Mr. Malloy tells him in that all too familiar gruff tone.
"Is it?" Shaun asks before taking a seat across from me without being asked.
"Right. Well, let's get down to business. We have a settlement offer that is the best you're going to get." Malloy tells Shaun, whose attention is on his phone. Brows pinched.
"Wait. Shouldn't we be waiting for Shaun's, I mean, Dr. Whitmore's attorney?" I ask.
"He should have been here by now. Excuse me for a second.
" Shaun tells us, looking a bit concerned and pushing the call button on his cell.
After a few seconds, he puts the phone upside down on the table.
"It went straight to voicemail. I'm okay continuing the meeting without him.
I'd like to hear about this wonderful settlement offer.
Still, I won't be signing anything until my lawyer has a chance to look over it. " His voice laced in sarcasm.
When I look up at Jackson Malloy, again, the lawyer with two last names, he offers a tight smile, but his face is turning a darker shade of red.
"Of course. We wouldn't expect less from you.
" Jackson reaches over for the file we have on Shaun and slides it in front of him.
"It seems you're very thorough in your work. " What. The. Fuck.
Images of being in the courtroom, facing off against seasoned prosecutors like Mr. Malloy, and keeping my cool float to the forefront of my mind.
I don't want to keep referring to him as Jackson because that is too personal.
I want to keep him at arm's length. He knows we have a weak case, and he's trying to bully Shaun into signing the settlement.
I haven't even seen the final version of it, and it makes my skin crawl to know that there is something else at play here.
I slide my phone out of my pocket, the smooth surface cool against my feverish palm. I keep my phone on my lap, out of sight from Mr. Malloy.
I hesitate.
The simple act of texting feels like a monumental task.
Me: DON'T SIGN ANYTHING!!!
Me: Where the fuck is your lawyer?
Shaun's phone buzzes on the table, and I feel my forehead dampen. Mr. Malloy stops rambling about the settlement as Shaun picks it up, and his eyes widen before he looks at me. I swallow.
"Something you want to share with the class, Dr. Whitmore?" Mr. Malloy asks.
"No. Just a text from my lawyer. He's not able to make it. Something came up." He types out a few things on his phone before clicking the side button to silence it. He lifts off his chair to slide his phone in the pocket of his slacks. "My apologies. Please continue."
My phone vibrates in my lap, and when Mr. Malloy is rereading the settlement, I take the opportunity to read the message.
Teddy Bear: Language.
Teddy Bear: He's a deadbeat but 2 late for a new rep.
My heart aches at the thought of Shaun getting the short end of the stick on this case, and nobody is stepping up to help him.
I continue to sit here, contemplating whether to tell Malloy that I couldn't be on this case.
How can I win this case and help Shaun at the same time?
Would Malloy understand my dilemma? Would he be grateful if I sought his guidance?
A clearing of a throat pulled me out of my thoughts, and the image of Mr. Malloy's disapproving face stopped me from sharing all this.
He wouldn't understand, wouldn't see beyond the conflict of interest.
I just need a little more time. Time to process my emotions, to reconcile my personal life with my professional responsibilities. Time to decide what kind of lawyer, what kind of man I want to be.
"I'll ask again," Jackson says, looking at me with a scowl. "Do you have any input on this, Mr. Kapling?"
Besides Shaun needing new representation and this whole meeting being a sham, nothing of substance. Where is our client in all this? She should also be here at this meeting. My stomach turns at the thought that something, my intuition tells me, isn't right.
"No, sir. Nothing to add at this time." I reach over to take the file, and Jackson slaps his meaty hand on top of it. I withdraw my hand.
"Very well. Dr. Whitmore, here is a copy of the settlement.
Please review it with your attorney, as you appear to have been distracted by the prosecutor.
Have him call Rebecca to set up a new time to review the details and finalize the signing.
It's been fourteen months. Let's put an end to this so you can get on with your life and career.
" Mr. Malloy stands, grabbing the file from the table.
"Kapling. My office in five," he says sternly and walks out of the conference room without another look in my direction.
I let out the breath I was holding and looked up at the ceiling.
"Is he always such an ass?" Shaun says across the table from me.
"It's worse now that he made partner," I confess, collecting my bag from the floor.
"I can't imagine. I know this isn't professional, but are you available for dinner? I'm only in town tonight and would love to catch up." Shaun asks, his blue eyes glistening like the ocean at high noon.
"Maybe. Let me check my schedule and text you later." If my brain was in conflict before, it is worse now. Is it ethical for me to have dinner with an old friend, even if we are on opposite sides of the law? "I need to," gesturing over my shoulder with my thumb.
I walk Shaun by the reception area and we say our goodbyes. I don't make it a foot into Malloy’s office before his voice reaches football stadium levels.
"What the fuck just happened in there?" he motions to the door, Shaun's file sitting on the edge of his desk.
"I don't understand. Shaun's lawyer wasn't here, and that whole meeting should have been postponed since he didn't have representation." I kept my voice calm and matter-of-fact.
"Not having representation was his choice.
It was a perfect time to go in for the kill.
Convince him to sign the settlement. But no.
You wanted to make goo-goo eyes at him while I read the settlement.
" He blurts out, along with spittle. Thankfully, I'm across the room and out of range for the water droplets to land on me.
Now would be a great time to tell him what's going on, so I can wrap up this case. But before I can speak, my stomach twists and I feel nauseated. "I have no idea what you are referring to. Dr. Whitmore is from my hometown. That's all."
"I know. That's why I assigned you the case.
So you could convince Whitmore to sign this settlement," he tells me while throwing himself in his desk chair.
"You have one more shot to get him to sign this settlement.
Take him to dinner. Shmooze him. Fuck him.
I don't care what you have to do. Get. Him. To. Sign."
I feel sick, and if I don't get out of here, I may lose my breakfast on his nice, expensive–albeit tacky–rug."I will get the meeting set up for one week from today."
"You'd better. That's all."
I take a step toward Mr. Malloy's desk with my eyes on the file. I need to see what I'm missing, and this gives me a week to do it.
"I don't think so, Kipling. The file stays here. You've had it long enough." His narrow eyes challenging me to argue.
Wait. Did Malloy just call me, Kipling? Who the fuck is Kipling? My last name is Kapling. What a douche.
I offer him a nod before I exit the room, pulling my cell from my pocket with a shaky hand.
Me: Dinner sounds great.