Chapter 3
THREE
What in the entire hell?
I’m married to Mr. Suit from this morning?
He’s an attorney and was in my courtroom.
I didn’t drink that damn much or did I?
And married? To him?
Yeah… No.
“Did you hear me?” His deep voice pulls me from my erratic thoughts. His voice is actually sexy but I refuse to acknowledge that in this ridiculous moment.
“Yeah…no, I didn’t, and unless you can prove to me that this fake ass looking paper is real, then I really don’t want to hear anything right now.”
“You got the same email I did. Check,” he says smoothly, then casually sits in the chair across from my desk.
In total disbelief, shock, and just utter surprise, I shake my head as I step behind my desk and sit down. Before unlocking my laptop, I glance up at him and he’s staring with a slight smirk. This man is too damn handsome.
“Do you see it?” he asks while lifting his cell. “It went to your Mireya.Coleman@email?—”
“I’m logging in now,” I utter, slightly annoyed.
He seems to be enjoying this and I’m not. If we are married, this shit is serious, really serious, and there’s no reason to be smirking or smiling. Although I’m projecting calm, I’m a million miles from it. My damn feet are tapping the hell out of my soft rug under my desk. This shit is crazy!
As soon as I log into my personal email account, I see it. Big and bold as shit is the unread message from Our Forever Online. Timidly, I click the email, and sure enough, there’s a digital copy of a marriage license for Quintus Bako and Mireya Coleman.
There’s also a video? What in the entire fuck!
“Did you watch it?” I utter, the words bitter on my tongue.
“Nah. Watch what?” he asks, sounding just as surprised as I feel.
“There’s a video,” I say, then click play. When he hears the officiant’s voice, he stands and joins me behind my desk. That divine scent of his from earlier envelops me and I inhale, probably too loud. Shit.
“What the fuck,” he utters when our two faces appear on the video screen. I’m in my brown dress and he’s looking too good in all black. I’m clearly comfortable with him because I’m on his lap, his arms are around me, and we’re both grinning.
What the hell! I look too comfortable with him. I barely recognize myself.
In silence and mutual disbelief, we watch as we repeat vows and even kiss after being pronounced husband and wife. My damn mouth is on the floor and I’m speechless, truly speechless, as the officiant explains the next steps in the recording.
“As a reminder, online marriages are legally binding. Since we are located in Utah, we are legally authorized to facilitate ceremonies for people regardless of their location. Your marriage there in…” he pauses and I respond.
“Crescent Falls,” I damn near yell on the screen.
“Yes, Crescent Falls. It is legally binding there. Your online marriage license is complete and I will be filing the paperwork electronically as soon as we end the video call. I will also email you a copy of this and the license to the addresses you provided on the application. Congratulations again, Mr. and Mrs. Quintus Bako,” he says and we kiss until the recording stops.
I close my laptop and look back at him. I don’t know whose eyes are bigger, his or mine, because we are both in shock. Light taps at my door break our trance and we both turn toward it.
“Recess is over, Your Honor,” Kenya says.
“Shit,” I huff. “Okay, I’m coming.”
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
“About what we just watched?”
“No, my brother. The case,” he says.
“Even though we are annulling this, I still have to recuse myself,” I say, then turn to face him. “Immediately, after I do, we need to handle this nonsense. Meet me back here,” I say sternly but he doesn’t say a word. He simply steps back to allow me to stand. Then he walks to my door and opens it.
“Your Honor,” he says as I walk through.
He walks to the front of the courtroom to enter and I enter through the judge’s doorway.
Getting back in my chambers with him and filing this annulment are my priority, so I don’t waste time with the case.
In fifteen minutes, I recuse myself, refer the case to Judge Wright’s courtroom, and am back in my office, disrobed and waiting for him to join me.
“Is this anything I can assist with?” Kenya asks from my door.
“Nothing yet, but if something comes up, I’ll let you know,” I say and she nods. Before she turns and walks off, I quickly ask, “But can you please get me another matcha? This one is cold and I’m going to need it for my afternoon arraignments.”
“Alright. I can do that. I’m going to grab a bite of something too. That might help.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” She walks off and is back seconds later with him standing behind her. Before she announces him, I wave him in. “I’ll see you when you get back, Kenya,” I tell her and she nods and walks off. He strolls in, closes my door, and sits on the couch in my seating area.
“Won’t you come over here?” he suggests.
“I think I should stay here. I can work directly on the annulment on my laptop,” I counter.
“We need to talk first. Come sit with me, please,” he says. He unbuttons his suit jacket and drapes it open a little, and damn!
Why was that so sexy?
Although every ounce of my logic and common sense are screaming for me to stay my ass behind my desk, in my comfortable leather chair, I abandon them both, grab my laptop, and walk over to sit in one of the large armchairs instead of the couch.
After flipping it up, I ask, “Is Quintus Bako your legal name?”
“Before you work on that, we need to talk about last night and what happened. What’s the last thing you remember?” he asks.
“I don’t know how that’s relevant. You saw the recording. We both looked incapacitated and unable to make the decision to enter into a binding marriage. As you know, Counselor, being under the influence of alcohol or drugs is a lack of consent and valid grounds for an annulment.”
“You’re right and I do know but it is just us. You can kill the legal jargon so we can talk and you can tell me the last thing you remember,” he says.
“I’m assuming you remember being at the Masquerade Ball?”
“I was. So you don’t remember me buying you a bourbon Manhattan?” he asks and I try to recall the night.
“I remember getting to the hotel. I dragged myself there. I mean, I had to drink an energy drink just to get my ass out of the house. I got to the hotel, up to the rooftop, and to the bar. I ordered my drink and kind of remember someone joining me,” I ramble, then look up.
“That was you? Did you put something in my drink?” I blurt.
“Ay. Come on. I don’t do no shit like that,” he says, clearly offended and angry.
“My bad. That just came out. I’m sorry; I really am,” I add quickly. “This whole thing just has me all over the place. I drink but I have never been so drunk that I’ve lost hours, hell, a whole night, and let’s not forget, I woke up with no clothes on,” I say and hold my damn breath.
“But I had on boxers,” he says and I exhale loud as hell, relieved. “Besides, I’m pretty sure if we had sex, you would know,” he says smugly and I just shake my head.
Choosing to intentionally ignore his insinuation, I roll my eyes and ask, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“After your second Manhattan, we found a table and left the bar. They had food coming around but you only wanted the cups of shrimp.”
“I do love a good shrimp and grits and hate to shell them,” I utter then sigh.
“We danced and…”
“I danced?” I question, unintentionally cutting him off. His words surprise the hell out of me because dancing in the heels I had on last night is a hard no.
“You did after leaving your shoes at the table.”
“Lord! Barefoot in a room full of my colleagues. Great!”
“I don’t think anyone noticed. Besides, we only danced for a few minutes. After that, I remember going back to the table, getting some food, and that’s it. I woke up this morning in the room.”
“So we actually went and booked a room for the night?”
“No. I already had it. My practice and my home are in Diamond Falls and I knew I didn’t want to drive home late and be back in court this morning.”
Diamond Falls. That’s why I’m not familiar with him.
“At some point though, we decided to get married. Only two lawyers would figure out how to get legally married online in the middle of the night. We weren’t that drunk,” he says with a grin.
Although waking up married to a stranger is no laughing matter, his observation is, so I find myself laughing too. It’s only interrupted when I hear knocking.
“That’s Kenya with my tea,” I say, then turn to the door. “Come in.” Kenya has not only my matcha but a cup for him as well. When she holds it out to him, he thanks her and nods. “What’s that?” I ask him but she answers.
“A black coffee. I asked when he walked in. I didn’t know how long this was going to be,” she says before placing a small pastry box on the table.
“Oh okay. Thank you,” I tell her and she walks out and closes my door. After taking a long sip from my delicious cup, I nod toward the pastry box. “Help yourself. We’re basically done now. I’ll have Kenya draw up the annulment and we can sign it so it can be filed.”
He sits up, places his cup on the table, then leisurely rests his elbows on his legs. He raises one hand to his trimmed beard and slowly rubs it. He sighs then peers into me.
“We can’t do that,” he says.
“Can’t do what?”
“Get an annulment.”
After closing my laptop and placing it on the table, I peer back at him. “We can’t stay married either,” I counter sternly.
“From a legal perspective, we have to. It’s on record that the defendant in the case you just recused yourself from is your brother-in-law.
You’ve already referred the case to another judge.
Ending the marriage now doesn’t look good at all.
Questions will be raised, and with the reelection, questions won’t be a good look.
It’s going to look like an improper relationship between a judge and a defense attorney just to get off a case. ”
As he speaks, my mind is churning and boiling at the same damn time.
I hate to admit this shit, but unfortunately, he’s right.
Judges rarely, if ever, recuse themselves.
When they do, it is truly a matter of record.
Plus, he’s also right about the record. He said in open court that the defendant, his brother, was my brother-in-law.
Annulments are also a matter of public record.
As soon as it’s filed, anyone will be able to see it and ethical rules will be questioned and so will my impartiality on the bench.
There’s a fine line between judges and attorneys, especially those appearing in my courtroom.
Even the hint of an improper relationship can end a career, especially during an election.
Any appearance of a prior romantic involvement with the defense attorney whose case I just recused myself from screams bias and on its face looks like a violation of the judicial code of conduct.
Fuck! This is a nightmare.
I am running for re-election. Unlike my original bid, which was unopposed, I actually have an opponent, former district attorney Lyle Richardson.
He would love to make something out of nothing to discredit me.
On the bench, we are polar opposites. I’m letter of the law, fairness, and justice and he’s spirit of the law, biases, and case by case justice, all the things I’m against. I refused to let him claim my seat on the bench.
But am I willing to do this? Stay married to this stranger? I don’t know.
“I see you thinking over there,” he says, then sits back on my couch. “So I need to tell you everything.”
“You put something in my drink,” I snap.
“Nah. Quit thinking that shit. I would never do anything to hurt a woman, never. That isn’t me at all,” he says while shaking his head. “Ace is innocent.”
“All defendants are until proven guilty,” I spit, annoyed at not knowing. What the hell is everything?
“He’s legit innocent. Ace has a wife, twin boys, and a successful, national moving company.
The drugs on that truck did not belong to him.
He doesn’t fuck with drugs or anything illegal.
He doesn’t deserve to be locked up, and as his brother, I had, well…
have to get him out. I went to that ball for you.
My plan was to chill with you, have a few drinks, and be seen with you so today you would feel obligated to recuse yourself.
But this, I never meant for it to go this far.
Drinks, in public, that was it. This whole marriage and shit was not the plan.
I would never want to fuck up your rep or the election,” he says so apologetically but I don’t know him nor can I trust him.
“You were setting me up!” I exclaim loudly, too loud for judges’ chambers. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“It was wrong but innocent. I had no intention of a few drinks at the ball getting to this. I swear.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you? You came to the ball to set me up, compromise my courtroom, and blackmail me off a case. Please,” I hiss, furious as hell. My head feels like it’s about to explode; I’m so fucking angry.
“Not blackmail,” he insists. “I just needed you to get off the case. Five minutes in your court and that was it. Case moved to another judge,” he says. Although he sounds sincere, this situation feels calculated and I don’t like it at all.
Furious, I stand. “Get out of my chambers before I have my deputy escort you, Counselor,” I grit as calmly as I can muster.
“I know this sounds fucked up bu?—”
“Counselor,” I warn more sternly and he stands.
“I really am sorry,” he utters as he heads out of my office.
Is he fucking for real…