28. Oliver
OLIVER
So, I do.
I text PR a heads-up and drive Meg downtown.
She’s quiet, eyes on the order we pinned to the corkboard last week.
Dana meets us at security with a rolling case and her paralegal, Isla, who carries two binders.
We take the stairs to the second floor because Meg hates the elevator when she’s wound tight.
Outside chambers, Callie and Luke sit with their counsel. Luke wears the grin he uses when he wants to look harmless. Callie scrolls without looking up. I feel Meg’s fingers dig into my sleeve, and I put my hand over hers.
Dana checks the time. “We’ll go over the order first, then offer exhibits one through thirteen by proffer and chain certification.”
But I can tell Meg isn’t hearing any of it. She looks placid, but that’s not her actual relaxed face.
The clerk opens the door. “Bridges v. Harbor Street Holdings. Parties and counsel.”
We’re in chambers for this. Books line the walls. A conference table takes up some of the space. The judge sits at the head with a legal pad and a pencil. We take the left side, they take the right. The court reporter sits near the window. The judge looks at the file, then at Dana.
“Good morning. I’ve read the TRO, the motion, and the submissions. Tell me what I need to know.”
Dana begins. “Good morning, Your Honor. Since the TRO entered, we have received video from the hallway camera. We also bring evidence of irregularities in the ownership chain and in the lending entity tied to Mr. Addaway’s companies.
We ask that the court void the eviction notices for bad faith and abuse of process, extend the restraining order pending an evidentiary hearing, and refer the lending materials to the Attorney General and the CFPB. ”
The judge turns to the other table. “Response?”
Their lawyer clears his throat. “Your Honor, this is a simple commercial dispute dressed up as a crusade. My clients deny any contact in violation of your order. Any notice was properly served by an agent. The lending materials are unrelated and tainted by questionable acquisition.”
Dana doesn’t blink. “Chain of custody is intact…” She continues, smooth as silk, just like my father would have wanted me to do, had I followed in his footsteps.
Sure, we inherited a vast fortune, but every man needs a hobby, he likes to say.
His is the law. He’ll never approve of mine, and that’s okay.
The judge looks at me. “Mr. Fitzwilliam, you are here as…?”
“Observer and supporting party. I helped coordinate the investigator and Dana. I’m not a witness unless the court needs me.”
He nods and looks at Meg. “Ms. Bridges, anything to add?”
She sits up straighter. “I want to run my shop without being pushed around by an ex-boyfriend and a woman who’s mad that she didn’t inherit my shop when my aunt died, per the conversation witnessed by those here and our lawyers.”
The judge raises a brow as Callie glances away. Luke too. But I nod, confirming what I saw and heard. “Go on, Ms. Bridges.”
“We fixed the inspection list in two days. We’re trying to buy the building through a community syndicate. Every time we get close to a plan, they do something to make things harder. The emails and the visits didn’t feel like business. I’m asking for the time to make a lawful offer. Nothing more.”
The judge turns a page. “Mr. Addaway?”
Luke spreads his hands. “I’m just a businessman, Judge. I offered to pay her legal bills. I gave her a card for emergencies. We have contractors who need access for safety. We own the building now. It’s ridiculous that she’s denying us access.”
Callie leans in. “ She’s the one making this personal, Your Honor. Bea’s was my life for years. I put myself through school on those tips. Bea called me the daughter she never had. That place is mine?—”
The judge holds out his palm. “Ms. Mornay, you may speak through your attorney only for the time being.” The judge taps his pencil twice and sets it down.
“Here’s where I am. The notices show sloppiness at best and gamesmanship at worst. The lending packet raises concerns I cannot resolve in chambers, but I’m not going to ignore it.
I am voiding the eviction notices for bad faith and abuse of process, enjoining any new notices pending a full hearing, and referring the lending materials to the Attorney General and the CFPB for inquiry. ”
Their lawyer starts to object. The judge holds up a hand. “I’m not finished.”
He looks at Callie’s counsel. “The emails sent by Ms. Mornay’s account are unprofessional and, given the context, harassing.
The timing of the inspection and follow-up suggests a pattern of pressure beyond normal business.
Under my inherent authority and the rules governing counsel conduct, I am issuing sanctions.
Ms. Mornay’s firm will issue a public apology to Ms. Bridges within three business days and will cover Ms. Bridges’s reasonable legal costs to date.
Further contact will be through counsel only.
Violations of the order will result in a contempt of court charge, Ms. Mornay. ”
Silence. Callie goes still. Luke’s face drains, and then it resets to a blank expression.
“We will set an evidentiary hearing on ownership, notices, and any remaining injunctive relief. Counsel, confer on dates. My clerk will find us a half day within two weeks. Draft the order. Keep it tight. If there’s a violation between now and then, come back to me on an order to show cause.
” He stands. “We’re done. Do not make me come back here early, you two.
This is little more than a lovers’ spat, but you used my court to drag it out.
Mark my words, if you do anything to violate my orders, there will be hell to pay. ”
We file out to the hall. Meg stands with her back to the wall and exhales all at once.
I hand her water. She drinks half and hands it back.
Dana is already at the bench outside chambers red-lining the draft while their lawyer fusses with language he can’t save.
Callie stares at her phone like it can undo anything.
Luke takes a step like he’s going to speak to Meg.
Dana looks up. “You heard the judge. Do you really want to violate his orders? And your lawyer should be the one reminding you. Not me. You should fire him.”
Luke stops. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.
“What’s ridiculous is ruining people’s lives because your new girlfriend threw a hissy fit. Addaway, everything is going to come out about you, this bullshit, and your crooked business practices. Seriously, get a better lawyer.”
He stands a little taller, eyeing Dana. “You offering?”
She snorts a laugh at him. “You serious?”
“You don’t need her ,” Callie snaps. “I’m twice the lawyer she is. I?—”
“Can it, you moron,” Dana cuts her off. “You’re part of the reason he’s in this mess. As a lawyer, you should have known better than to try to screw over someone like this. I’ll be speaking to the bar about this case, Mornay.”
Callie starts to speak, but thinks better of it. No doubt the judge’s words are ringing in her ears, or her bruised pride is shutting her up. Whatever it is, I’m grateful.
The clerk calls us back in five minutes later. The judge signs everything, and the stamped order hits the table. It’s all paperwork from there until we’re done.
Outside, Meg calls Tom on speaker. Her voice shakes, but only on the first couple of words. “We’re open. We’re not moving. The judge made them apologize and pay Dana.”
Tom whoops. I hear Bex hollering in the background and Anthony saying he told the tile wall we’d keep it. Aqua says, deadpan, “I’ll laminate the order.”
But the day isn’t over yet.
Pregame, the room is calm. Coach writes three words on the board: KEEP IT SIMPLE. We dress. Hudson tapes left to right. Rocco sings one line under his breath. I check my laces twice.
The game is tight. First period ends scoreless. Second, they get one on a deflection we can’t do anything about. We tie it on a power-play point shot through traffic. Third is trench work. Coach rolls four. He keeps our line fresh for the last five.
Between periods, Coach draws on the board. “O zone left. Ellis point shot. Rocco screen. Hudson high tip. Fitz offhand for the rebound. If it goes weak side, Carter pinches. Go.”
We take the draw left circle. Rocco sets. He locks eyes with me. He wins it clean back to Ellis. Ellis drags to the middle and snaps it low blocker. Hudson slides into the high slot and points his blade. The shot hits his stick and changes angle. The goalie kicks it out. Hell.
It dies at the top of the blue, but I’m not finished. I crash from the off wing and bang it before the goalie can reset. It hits pad, post, in. Horn.
The bench explodes. We skate the line, gloves, helmets, quick pats. Coach yells, “Still got a game to finish!” and we lock it down for the last shift. They pull the goalie. Carter blocks one with a thigh and stays upright. I clear a rebound past the red. Horn.
The arena erupts, but I’m left standing there, watching their goalie curse out his team. I blink at the scoreboard. No way. No fucking way.
Rocco’s giant hand pats my shoulder. “Hey, man. You good?”
“Did…did we just win?”
Not a second later, the team swarms me as an answer. We won. That’s why everyone is losing their minds. In the locker room, we don’t do speeches. We nod at each other and breathe. Coach bangs the board and points at the schedule. “Four more, and we’re in it for the division.”
Unreal.
We do the media. I keep it to hockey. PR cuts off anything personal. Easy peasy.
We go home. I cook because I have to do something with my hands.
I still can’t believe we won. Pasta, salad, garlic bread.
Hudson opens sparkling water. Rocco sets the table and hums his new song under his breath.
Meg sits and kicks off her shoes, and rubs the spot under her knee where she carries stress.
We eat without planning the next hour. After, we load the dishwasher and leave the sink empty because that small win helps tomorrow.
On the couch, Meg puts her head on my shoulder. “You wore the boss suit, and you knocked it out of the park.”
I stare at her blankly for a breath. “Did you really just use a baseball metaphor on your hockey player boyfriend?”
Her laugh echoes through my soul. “Okay, you smacked it past the goalie. Better?”
“A little,” I tease. “And I could only do it because I had help.”
“You always do. So do I.”
Hudson sits on the floor, leaning back against her leg. Rocco stretches a hamstring and says he isn’t old yet. We watch the late game and don’t talk until the second intermission. And when we do, we don’t talk about much, other than ignoring invitations to Sticky’s after the win.
It would have been a hell of a party, but I prefer this one.
I almost ignore another text, but Dad comes through on the ID. That can’t be good. I click it.
Saw what you did today—the case. The game. Well done, son.
I’m not prepared for the wave of something strange in my chest. It must show on my face, because Meg asks, “You okay?”
“I don’t know. But I think my dad might be proud of me. A little.”
She and the guys blink at that, so I show them the text. Hudson grunts, “The old man is full of surprises.”
“I’ll say. Thought for sure I’d be getting booted from the will any day now.”
Rocco shakes his head. “Your father likes winners.”
“True.” I sigh. “Guess I’ll have to keep winning.”
Meg nuzzles against me. “Bedtime?”
“Whatever you want.” Because that feels like winning too.
I lie down in my bed, and Meg curls against me, falling asleep before the sheets warm up. There’s a chance we might get everything we ever wanted. I can’t wait to find out.