Chapter Four
Mark
My team is looking at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“She’s going to lose her shit and tear you apart for a discovery violation,” my second chair, Brad—a nervous beta if there ever was one—says. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I don’t look up from the notes on my desk. “We disclosed the statement as soon as we had it. It was uploaded to the discovery portal late last night. We’re allowed to call a new witness if the evidence is material and we didn’t withhold it.”
Last night, a building guard walked in with an eyewitness statement for the Simmons case that places Ava’s defendant near the scene of the crime. It isn’t enough to completely slam dunk the case, but it plugs the hole that Ava has been picking at all week.
He scoffs. “Yeah, at like midnight. It’s 8:00 in the morning now, and we go into the courtroom in an hour. You know it’s unlikely that she’s reviewed it. I don’t care how good her office is.”
“And if she hasn’t,” I snap, “she can ask the judge for time to prepare. That is exactly what continuations are for.”
“All I am saying,” he replies evenly, “is that this is going to look like you are trying to catch her off-guard. Not to mention, we haven’t even had time to fully vet and verify this guy yet.
You and I both know she is not the kind of attorney you can slip things past. Just seems like asking for trouble when she’s gonna get pissed and come at us harder. ”
“I didn’t realize you were so frightened of the viper, Brad,” I say.
“You’re an idiot if you aren’t.” He jumps up from his seat and throws his hands up. “Whatever, man, your funeral.”
He leaves my office, and I sigh, pinching my nose. I’ve been in a shit mood for the last couple of days since the gala. Ever since she pointed out how I can’t stay away from her. And what’s worse is, I can’t stop thinking about her. I lean back in my chair, shove my hands in my hair, and sigh.
It’s because of that damn green dress how it highlighted the ethereal luminosity of her skin and the dusting of freckles down her throat and over the tops of her breasts.
My mouth practically watered wanting to pull the cups down and see how far the freckles went.
Is she covered in them? I almost guarantee she is, and why the hell does that do it for me so hard?
She’s a distraction and a menace. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was an omega, by the way my alpha can’t stop obsessing over her. Maybe it makes me an asshole, but I want to lash out because of it. Take her down a peg if I can.
The moment I say his name, I feel the fury roll from Ava at my back before she even stands. Her chair loudly scrapes the floor as she surges to her feet.
“Your Honor, this witness was never disclosed,” she snaps. “The defense has had no opportunity to prepare—”
I keep my face neutral, but inside, satisfaction washes through me. I look over at her and immediately regret it. Ava is always beautiful. Angry Ava is breathtaking and lethal.
Her jaw is tight, and there’s a flush to her skin that makes her eyes seem even brighter than normal.
Her fists are clenched at her sides, and as if she realizes I’m looking, she flexes her fingers outward and forces her shoulders to relax.
If my goal was to think of her less, maybe I should have thought this through a little more.
The judge calls us to sidebar. Ava immediately launches into her argument, but I already know everything she’ll use.
“Your Honor,” I say evenly, keeping my tone cool, completely at odds with the heat coiling under my skin. “The state received this witness’ statement only last night. We turned it over immediately.”
“If that is true,” Ava hisses, “it must have been between 11:00 p.m. last night when I left for the day and before we came to court.” Her gaze flicks towards me, accusatory, as if waiting to catch me in a lie.
She was at the office until 11:00? She keeps worse hours than I do, not that I’m surprised.
I lift a shoulder in a deliberate show of indifference. “Defense counsel is welcome to check the portal. The statement is there. We’re obligated to disclose discovery, not to personally alert opposing counsel every time we upload a document.”
The judge watches us both, eyes tired, fingers drumming once against the bench. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz faintly. The entire room feels as if everyone is waiting on the edge of their seats to see how this plays out.
Finally, he exhales. “He is technically correct, Ms. Kendrick,” he says. “You will have fifteen minutes to review the statement before the testimony begins.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Ava fires back, before schooling her features and changing her tone into something far more polite. “Your Honor, may I request a continuance until tomorrow to properly vet this witness and prepare for cross-examination?”
“Fifteen minutes, Ms. Kendrick, and if that’s a problem, I can make it zero,” he says flatly.
I feel a brief flare of guilt, but I squash it down. This is the name of the game. Ava plays to win, and I will as well.
She gives the judge a fake smile and promptly turns to flash me a look of pure malice before walking back to her table, spine rigid. I’d be lying if I said part of me wasn’t looking forward to the fight.
The guard’s testimony lands better than I’d hoped. He’s direct and self-assured, exactly the kind of witness juries eat up.
Ava’s cross is sharp, but she’s working with scraps. Fifteen minutes with a statement didn’t give her nearly enough time to build the traps she’s famous for.
When she finally sits, I rise for redirect.
I could probably leave it there, but it’s like I’m watching from outside myself.
She’s under my skin in ways I don’t know how to deal with, and it’s making me act uncharacteristically.
Maybe it’s because we are on camera and the mayor’s words about voters linger.
Or maybe I’m just in a bad mood because I can’t actually do anything with all the feelings I have.
So instead, I flash a disarming smile at the jury.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the State has had no difficulty gathering the relevant facts in this case,” I say.
“Any suggestion otherwise would merely stem from Ms. Kendrick’s personal feelings towards me.
It’s unfortunate the defense let pesky little things like emotions make them unprepared. ”
Ava’s head snaps up. For a split second, her composure cracks. She presses her lips together until they pale, fingers tightening around her pen as though she might snap it in half.
The jury shifts uncomfortably, and I realize the minute I said it that I’ve taken it too far.
Ava Kendrick is never unprepared, and they know that.
Now, I just look like a grandstanding jackass.
Which admittedly, I am. Worse, a chauvinistic one, even though I’m not.
Which won’t do me any favors with the women jurors.
“Mr. Taylor,” Judge Reynolds cuts in sharply, “that is an argument, not a redirect. I don’t care if we are on television; I won’t have showboating in my courtroom.
Save it for closing arguments. I’m imposing a two-hundred-dollar sanction for contempt, payable by the State.
Keep your comments to evidence, or the fine will go up. ”
I wince and dip my head in contrition. “Yes, Your Honor. Apologies.”
Across the aisle, Ava’s glare could strip paint. She’ll make me pay for that, I know it.
“Jesus Christ, Mark, are you trying to get us murdered? Her client is a fucking hit man, for Christ’s sake,” Brad hisses in my direction as I sit down.
I give him a look. “Quit being dramatic. She can file whatever motion she wants, and I got in trouble for it. It’s fine.”
It’ll make for good headlines. DA Taunts Defense in Courtroom Spar on NYTV. It’s the action that the old alpha donors will love. I remind myself that you have to win the game to get the office. This is what I’m here to do.
So why do I feel a little dirty?
We break for the day, and the courthouse empties. Reporters hover near the exits like sharks circling, cameras raised and phones poised to capture sound bites. I weave between them, nodding at one of the security guards holding the masses back.
I glance around for Ava, hoping for a chance to talk, though I’m unsure what I would say. I catch a flash of her fiery red hair as she ducks in her car and pulls away. Disappointment churns in my gut. I’m not even sure what I hoped for, and that uncertainty pisses me off all over again.
Back in my office, I finish up some paperwork I’ve been avoiding.
Jane, my assistant, leans against my doorframe.
“Heard you pulled a hell of a move today. Any tips on how you want me to spin the optics? Requests are already flooding in. It’s not often the district attorney gets fined for contempt of court. ”
I sigh. “Tell them to watch the playback from court, and we can’t comment on ongoing cases. Though make sure it’s noted that I’m paying the fine myself, not using taxpayer funds.”
She nods and leaves me to my thoughts.
Sometimes I miss the days when the law was just the law, when I didn’t have to worry about the optics or politics of it all.
Once upon a time, I had wanted to work in defense like Ava.
But once I set my mind to holding office, prosecution made more sense.
The general public likes the idea of someone at the helm that ‘puts the bad guys away.’
By the time I slide into my cab, the sun has long since set, leaving just the streetlights to reflect on the puddles.
My phone won’t quit buzzing. I pull it out—texts from staff, a note from the mayor congratulating me on a great day in court, and of course, Adam sending me a social media clip of my barb at the bench.