display in my courtroom next week, or any week thereafter. Next ‘demonstration’ like this, you go directly to jail.”
“Understood, Your Honor.”
“Fine.” Judge Hoffmeier paused. “Now. Well. As for defendant’s motion to exclude evidence, I hereby grant the motion, albeit reluctantly. I am loathe to reward Ms. Murphy’s misconduct, but I cannot penalize the defendant company for its lawyer’s hare-brained schemes. I therefore rule that Ms. Feldman will not be permitted to testify at the trial of this matter, and that there will be no naked men in evidence next week, either in word or deed. So ordered!” Judge Hoffmeier banged the gavel, shaking his head.
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Anne wanted to cheer, but didn’t. She won. She
Matt rose briefly, with a scowl. “Thank you, Your Honor.”
“Now, Ms. Murphy, get out of my courtroom before I return to my senses.” Judge Hoffmeier got up and left the dais. “Have a good holiday, everybody.”
Anne stood up as soon as the judge had left, felt a soft caress on her back, and turned. Two lawyers in fancy suits stood behind her. They were hot, successful, and evidently patronized the same custom tailor.
“That was amazing, Anne!” the one said, touching her again, though she didn’t know him at all. He wore a practiced smile and a wedding band.
The other lawyer stepped closer. “Where’d you get that idea? And didn’t we meet at—”
“Thanks,” Anne said politely, but she didn’t want to get picked up in federal court unless it was by Matt Booker. She peered past their padded shoulders at Matt, who was hunching over his briefcase, shoving papers inside. She waved, trying to get his attention, but his forehead was knitted with anger and he wouldn’t look up. Then her view was blocked by the lawyers.
“How did you get the guts to do that?” the married lawyer asked, but Anne stepped around him.
“Matt!” she called, but he’d grabbed his briefcase, hurried down the center aisle, and left through the double doors. Anne didn’t go after him. She couldn’t apologize for representing her client. She couldn’t say she was sorry she’d won. She stood there, suddenly aware that two suits were hovering over her, an entire gallery was gawking at her, and several reporters were rushing at her with notebooks drawn.
“Anne,” the married lawyer said, in low tones. “I was wondering if you were busy tonight. I’d love to take you out to celebrate.”
A reporter elbowed him out of the way, shouting questions in Anne’s face. “Ms. Murphy, that was great! What a trick! What was the stripper’s name?” The press glommed suddenly around her, like bees to a Pulitzer. “Did you think you’d go to jail?” “What did your client think about that stunt?” “Would you consider a photo shoot this week, for our ‘up-and-coming’ feature?”
Anne shoved her way back to counsel table for her briefcase and bag, answering none of the questions and ignoring all of the stares. She screened out the world around her, which left her feeling the way it always did, a little dead inside. But at least she’d won the motion, and she’d deserved to win. Even without any case precedent, Anne knew in her heart she was right on the law.
Mental note: Only a beautiful woman can understand the true power of a naked man.
2
ROSATO & ASSOCIATES, read the brass nameplate affixed to the sky-blue wall, and Anne stepped off the elevator into the air-conditioned cool of the empty reception area. Navy club chairs, a blue- patterned Karastan, and a glass table covered with a slick magazine-fan formed a corporate oasis after the heat and hubbub outside. Holiday traffic had already started, and Anne couldn’t get a cab from the courthouse, so she had walked the twenty-five blocks in her Blahniks, which constituted cruel and unusual punishment. She kicked off her shoes and they tumbled over each other in a taupe blur.
“Faithless ones,” she said, then went over and rescued them.
She tucked them into her briefcase and padded barefoot to the reception desk, which was also empty. The receptionist must have gone home early, and a quick glance around told Anne that the whole place had cleared out. It was silent except for the echo of laughter at one of the far offices, near the corner of the building. She knew who that would be.
She picked up the clipboard they kept on the reception desk and scanned the list of sign-ins and outs. Bennie Rosato had signed out all day in depositions, and Anne breathed a relieved sigh. She would have a lot of ‘splainin’ to do for the naked-man motion. The telephone rang on the reception desk, and she picked it up. “Rosato and Associates,” she answered.
The caller was a man. “This is the
“I’m sorry, I’m not here.” Anne let the receiver drop into the cradle, and when the phone began ringing again, pretended it was background music. She set down the clipboard and sorted through the while you were out pink slips to collect her own, then grabbed her mail and FedExes from the black tray bearing her name. She padded, stuff in hand, to her office.
Sunlight poured through the window behind her chair, bathing her messy desktop in a too-white glare and illuminating the dust motes in the air, agitated by the slightly damp lawyer. Her desk sat flush against the left wall and above it hung wooden bookshelves stuffed with law books, thick copies of the Federal Rules, a couple of legal thrillers, and outdated Neiman Marcus catalogs full of clothes she deserved to own but didn’t yet. Her office contained no photographs, and nothing hung on her walls except for her diplomas from UCLA and Stanford Law.
Anne dropped her messenger bag and briefcase on a chair, her mail and messages on the desk, then walked to her chair and sat down. The laughter sounded louder now that she was closer to the source, the two older associates, Mary DiNunzio and Judy Carrier. They were hanging out in Mary’s office, which doubled as their clubhouse.
She thumbed through her messages but her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t sit still. She felt jiggered up from her victory. She had called Gil on the cell to tell him about the win, but he hadn’t answered and she’d left a message. She hadn’t told him about the naked man, either; she’d wanted him to have deniability in case of her arrest. Now it would play out beautifully. She won!
Anne felt like celebrating. She heard the laughter again. Maybe she could take Mary and Judy out for drinks. She never had before, but why not? She had nothing else to do tonight except go to the gym, and she’d love to skip that for once. She worked out to burn off stress, but hated it so much it was stressing her. If this kept up, she’d have to go back to charging things.
Anne got up from her chair and walked barefoot down the hallway, toward the laughter. Its lighthearted sound was contagious, and her own smile grew unaccountably as she approached Mary’s office and leaned in the door. “What’s so funny, guys?” she asked.
The laughter stopped so quickly it was as if somebody had flicked the off switch.
“Oh, it was nothing,” answered Judy Carrier, sitting on Mary’s credenza. But her china-blue eyes were wet from giggling, and her unlipsticked lips still bore the trace of a smile.
Mary DiNunzio frowned from behind her neat desk. “Sorry if we were loud. Did we disturb you?”
“No, not at all.” Anne’s cheeks went hot. She should have known better. This law firm was worse than high school, and she felt like a D student crashing National Honor Society.
“How was court?” Mary asked. If she’d heard about the naked guy, it didn’t show. Her expression was interested, if only politely. Her dark-blond hair had been swept back into a French twist, and she was wearing her trademark khaki suit from Brooks Brothers, in contrast to Judy, who flopped on the credenza in denim overalls, a white tank, and a red bandanna in her Dutch-boy haircut. These two were so different, Anne could never understand their close friendship, and had given up trying.
“Uh, court was fine.” Anne’s smile morphed into a professional mask. Mary had been filling in on Chipster, and Anne always sensed that they could have been friends, if things had been different. Like if they both lived on Pluto, where women were nice to each other. “I won, which is good.”
“Jeez! You won?” Mary smiled. “Congratulations! How’d you do that? It was a tough motion.”
“Hoffmeier just agreed, I guess.” Anne didn’t even consider telling them the story. It had been a mistake to come here. By here she meant Philadelphia.
