Chapter 3
HONOVI
I hadn’t known there was such a thing as angry-forking until I’d eaten my grilled salmon and steamed asparagus that night. When I’d arrived at the restaurant to find that Dr. Rhodes had paid for my dinner, I was both annoyed and impressed.
Annoyed that he knew any of my business, even if it was only that I was trying to eat healthy these days, and impressed that he’d gone out of his way to do something for someone else. Even if it had been the right thing to do after being a monumental shithead in our meeting.
“Stop thinking about this,” I muttered as I walked into the courtroom a few days later. For some reason, the infuriating surgeon was like a burr under my saddle.
“I hope you don’t,” my client said with a nervous laugh. “Not if you were thinking about my case.”
I turned to Janet Miller with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. No. I was thinking about an upcoming… dental procedure,” I lied. “Not my favorite.”
This wasn’t entirely a lie. Dealing with Xavier Rhodes was a lot like pulling teeth, after all. And I’d just found out our re-rescheduled meeting was set for tomorrow. I was already dreading it.
“Nice of you to join us, Counselor,” Judge Ricks said with a lifted eyebrow as Janet and I entered the courtroom. Her reading glasses were perched low on her nose as she peered over them at me. “Now maybe we can get this show on the road.”
I checked the time on my phone and glanced back up at her in confusion. I was five minutes early. “I thought the hearing was scheduled for nine thirty, Your Honor. My apologies.”
She waved her hand in the air in a beckoning motion. “If you want to be exact about it, sure. But I’ve got about ten more cases to get through this morning, and I know one of you is going to throw a wrench into the schedule by running over.”
After tossing a reassuring smile at my client, I ushered her over to our side of the courtroom, indicating the chair she should sit in. Then I approached the bench alongside opposing counsel.
“What do we have?” the judge asked.
Before I could say anything, my opposing counsel jumped right into the issue. “Your Honor, my client strongly opposes Janet Miller’s request for power of attorney, medical or otherwise, in regards to one Joseph Miller. My client expressed deep concerns over Mrs. Miller’s request.”
“Doctor Miller,” I corrected calmly but firmly, the way I had to do every time he pulled this cheap trick. I had to imagine getting multiple PhDs in psychology and sociology wasn’t easy, and if I’d earned one, much less two, I might want people to acknowledge it.
“She’s not a medical doctor,” the attorney sighed. Unfortunately for him, Judge Ricks lifted an eyebrow in challenge. “Fine. Dr. Miller.”
Judge Ricks eyed him over her glasses. “And what kind of concerns does your client have, exactly? It’s my understanding Dr. Miller’s requesting this power of attorney for her husband due to a documented diagnosis of Alzheimer’s.”
The attorney, a man named Warren Chisholm I didn’t particularly like for his smarmy manner and tendency to not give a shit about what was best for the actual families involved in a family law case, cleared his throat. “Inadequate medical diagnosis, for one. We dispute the diagnosis.”
I was so surprised I blurted, “Despite corroboration by your own doctor?” The judge held up her hand to shush me.
Warren continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “Suspected cognitive decline in the petitioner, for another.”
“Are you joking?” I sputtered. “She’s sixty!”
After receiving another disapproving look from the judge for interrupting, I held up my hands in apology and let Warren go on.
“Your Honor, Joseph Miller is perfectly capable of making his own decisions, and a medical power of attorney is premature. If, however, the court agrees that one is advisable in this case, it should go to my client, Mr. Miller’s own son, who is not only a medical professional himself, but also a young and virile member of the community. ”
I stared at him before turning to the judge and mouthing, “Virile?”
She closed her eyes and inhaled before leaning forward. “Let me rightly understand your position, Mr. Chisholm,” she said. “Mr. Miller doesn’t need a power of attorney, but if he did, it should go to Joseph Miller, Jr. because he’s a…”
She rifled through the paperwork before looking back up at him. I knew Judge Ricks well enough to see her fighting off a smirk. “Phlebotomist.”
Warren shifted his eyes down, around, and back up. He knew how stupid he sounded, but he was working hard for his client, which was his job. “Yes. Moreover, he is a blood relative, and Dr. Miller is not. That alone should be reason enough—”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the judge got there first. “I assume Mr. Baptiste is getting ready to point out Cruzan v. Director, Missouri Dept. of Health, and he’s right. Spouses are legally next of kin by default. Try something else, Counselor.”
Joey Miller didn’t like his stepmother. That much was obvious.
But as far as I could see, the primary reason he was fighting this was due more to his father’s millions than any paternal love he had for Mr. Miller or concern for his medical care.
For that reason alone, I was happy to be arguing Janet’s side.
I kind of felt bad that Warren was representing a jackass.
“She’s the primary beneficiary of his estate,” Warren said. “She stands to benefit if he dies.”
“When he dies,” Judge Ricks corrected. “It happens to all of us, I’m afraid. And it is standard for the surviving spouse to get the estate.” She pursed her lips. “Did you bring any evidence that Dr. Miller would not make Mr. Miller’s legal and medical decisions in good faith?”
“Yes.” He swallowed before standing up straighter. “I brought character witnesses, Your Honor. They will testify that Dr. Miller’s decisions will be driven by greed, pure and simple.”
The judge turned to me. “And what do you say, Mr. Baptiste, about these assertions regarding your client?”
“Your Honor, as is stated in the brief I submitted, Dr. Miller is of sound mind. We have submitted letters from her psychiatrist, neurologist, and primary care physician. All of them give her a clean bill of health and declare her perfectly capable of handling any power of attorney. I’d also like to note she takes no medications, nor does she drink or smoke.
In fact, she’s fitter than most of us are. ”
I gestured with my hand toward the table where my client sat in her neat cream-colored sweater set with a solitaire emerald pendant hanging around her neck and simple emerald studs in her ears.
Her hair was freshly done and fell in thick chestnut waves over her shoulders, making her look even younger than her habit of doing charity fun runs did.
The woman didn’t even need prescription glasses, for god’s sake.
“She has also been in good financial standing as a highly acclaimed professor for decades, since long before she met the Millers. Honestly, the implication that she would harm her husband for financial reasons is slanderous, and if I was her attorney—oh, look! I am—I would advise her to take legal action against any of these so-called character witnesses.”
All of this was pointless since words spoken during a hearing like this weren’t actionable, and we all knew it. But my point was to put Warren and his client on notice.
“She is a well-respected, long-term resident of Hobie. Your Honor, I would trust her with my power of attorney. And we have as many character witnesses as you need who’ll say the same.”
The judge already knew all of this. She served with Dr. Miller on Hobie’s Hootenanny planning committee. Judge Ricks peered back at Warren, who looked like he knew how ridiculous this petition was.
“Mr. Chisholm, do you or your client have anything else to add?”
I glanced over at his client, who was staring straight ahead instead of daring to look at my client. Thankfully, Janet was paying attention to the judge instead of getting distracted by her loser of a stepson.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Warren explained, desperately searching for a way to keep this case alive. “W-we believe she will make changes to his last will and testament!”
The judge tapped a lacquered fingernail against the legal folder in front of her and put her hand over her microphone before lowering her voice and leaning down so we could hear her. “Don’t be an idiot, Warren.”
We all knew that by bringing evidence into a legal record that Mr. Miller had Alzheimer’s, any changes to his last will and testament from here on out could be easily challenged in court. By having this hearing, he’d protected the sanctity of the will to a certain extent.
Which was stupid, considering my client was the primary beneficiary. But then again, Joey Miller wasn’t known for his brains.
Judge Ricks nodded. “I’m denying this motion to challenge Dr. Miller’s power of attorney for Joseph Miller.
I am specifically not assigning power of attorney to Dr. Miller because this case did not charge me with that duty.
” She lifted her eyebrows at Warren, indicating he was a very bad boy and his shitty-ass decision to allow his client to follow through on this nonsense could come back to bite him in the ass.
By not assigning her power of attorney, Judge Ricks had left my client the ability to encourage her husband to amend his will however he wanted to. Which she obviously had no intention of doing anyway. It was mostly a nose-tweak to Warren and his client.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Warren mumbled before turning around and moving toward his client, out of earshot of the bench.
Judge Ricks met my eye. “Do they know what’s in the will?”
I grinned and shrugged. “They must know something since Warren called Dr. Miller the primary beneficiary. Do they know the will actually states that everything goes to my client? I couldn’t say.”
She narrowed her eyes at me in suspicion. “And now they can’t challenge it.”
“If it makes you feel better, the will was signed and dated seventeen years ago along with their wedding certificate. That was truly what Joseph Miller has always wanted. Along with Janet making his decisions. She loves him, as you know.”
She rolled her eyes and made a shooing motion with both hands. “Irrelevant, Counselor. Now, get out of here. I have a busy docket today, and you’re already making me late, just as I predicted.”
I gathered my client and made my way out of the courtroom before allowing her to turn and give me a tight hug. “Thank you! I’m so relieved.”
“Please keep me in the loop with his care,” I urged. “If you need anything, I’d love to help in any way I can.”
We said our goodbyes outside the courthouse, and I quickly made my way back to the office to get some work in before my next hearing, scheduled for this afternoon.
As I strode into my office, Gracie looked up from her desk with a questioning expression.
“We got his Alzheimer’s diagnosis in the record and retained all powers of attorney.”
Gracie nodded. “Kicking ass as usual, Hon.”
I shot her a look. “Some attorneys make it easier than others.”
“Poor Warren,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t forget you have to call Penny Collins back and then look over the Cho brief before your next appointment.”
The rest of the day proceeded at the same rapid pace most of my days did lately. More fulfilling work. More cases to fight to make sure the families of Hobie got the legal protections they needed.
It was a good life. In many ways, the life I’d dreamed of.
But that night when I had trouble sleeping, I thought back to the argumentative surgeon I was scheduled to meet the next day.
I imagined messing up his perfect wavy hair with my fingers. Marring his pristine skin with marks from my lips and teeth. And sucking his cock until his eyes rolled back in his head and he was forced to stop talking.
When I came to the fantasy of having sex with Dr. Xavier Rhodes, I said a silent prayer for the privacy of one’s thoughts.
And wondered how the hell I would get through our meeting the next day without blushing to the roots of my hair.