Jack With a Twist

“So, then in that case, the discovery process will begin this week and I’ll see all of you in three months for our next status conference.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” we all say as we record the next status conference in our BlackBerries. I try to keep my cool even though the judge has set an incredibly tight discovery calendar. In my old firm, it would have been no problem, what with Gilson, Hecht’s enormous staff, but in my new firm, where I’m handling the case on my own, this has the potential to become a real nightmare. Although I must admit, I probably won’t have any trouble getting extensions on my deadlines since I’m sleeping with opposing counsel.

What? The judge merely said we had to construct a Chinese Wall—he didn’t say that we had to stop sleeping with each other!

I pull my hair out of its bun as soon as the door to chambers shuts and I walk down the hallway toward the elevators with Jack and Miranda.

“This is no fair,” I say, as soon as we are halfway down the hall, safely out of earshot of Judge Martin and his chambers staff. “You never even ever wanted to be a lawyer!” My argument, though childish and whiny, is true. It’s a known fact that Jack only became a lawyer after his dream of becoming an actor fizzled. Thus, his predilection for courtroom theatrics.

“My word,” Miranda says, “this is going to be some case, isn’t it?”

I resist the urge to tell her to shut up and leave Jack and me alone. Jack asks Miranda to excuse us and this inexplicably causes her to put her hand on his forearm. There’s that hand again. I resist the urge to scream, “Get your man stealing hand off of my fiancé!”

Not like I’m jealous or anything. This must be a litigation technique she’s trying to employ to throw me off. Trying to make me so jealous that I don’t concentrate on my case at all and focus all my energy into the wrong things. Oh, please. Amateur hour. As if I’d fall for that for one second! She’s going to have to try a lot harder to faze a tough no-nonsense adversary like me.

And why would I ever get jealous? Jack and I have a strong relationship, and just because my last serious boyfriend cheated on me and left me for another woman, that doesn’t mean that Jack will do the same thing. Because Jack’s not him. And Jack is more than just another serious boyfriend. He’s my fiancé. Things are different with him. Better. More secure.

Right? “Y’all have a lot to discuss,” Miranda says as the elevator doors open, “Jack, I’ll see you back at the office.” I can swear I see her press her documents tightly to her chest, which has the effect of pushing her breasts up to expose massive cleavage in her lace-trimmed camisole. My eyes dart to Jack’s to see if he’s noticed.

“Thanks, Miranda,” Jack says, his eyes still on me, “why don’t you get started on discovery and we can talk it over this afternoon?” I can’t help but wonder whether or not she takes off her fitted jacket when she’s back at the office and attends meetings in only her lace-trimmed camisole.

What a hussy.

The elevator doors close and Jack and I stand face to face.

“No fair?” Jack says, “Is that the sort of tough argument you’ll be presenting me with in court? Honestly, Brooke, I thought I taught you better than that.”

“This isn’t funny,” I say (okay, I’m actually whining it, but give me a break, I’m under a lot of stress here!). “This is the first case I’ve ever taken the lead on and I want to do well.”

“Well,” Jack says, leading me down the hallway to the other end, where no one is standing. “This is a high- profile client for the firm and I want to prove that I have what it takes to be a rainmaker. To pull in the big clients and keep them happy.”

“Okay, my argument was, like, totally more compelling,” I say as we stop at the end of the hall.

“Whatever happened to: ‘You’re going to get the case and be amazing. And I’ll be the loving, doting fiancée who is here to help you every step of the way.’ Remember saying that to me?”

“Well, yes,” I say, “but that was before the biggest case of your career coincided with the biggest case of my career, silly.”

“But I’m a partner,” Jack pleads, “so I need the big case more than you do at this stage.”

“Totally flawed argument,” I say, “clearly I need the big cases more so that I can become a partner.”

Jack runs his hand through his hair.

“Since when do you care about taking the lead on a case? When we were at Gilson, Hecht together, you never cared about being on the big cases. In fact, you always tried to get on the smaller cases and the cases most likely to settle quickly,” Jack says, putting his case files down on the windowsill. “Let’s face it, Brooke, you don’t even like working that much. Why on earth would you want to take the lead on a case?”

“Who likes working?” I say. I think, but don’t say: Duh! “But these Manolos don’t exactly buy themselves.”

“I’ll let you buy all the Manolos you want,” Jack says, putting his arms around me, “you can even buy baby Manolos when we have a daughter.”

“They don’t make baby Manolos,” I tell Jack with a pout, as he puts his finger under my chin and tilts my head up to face him.

“If you wanted baby Manolos,” Jack says, leaning into me so that our faces are only mere inches away from each other, “I’d get you baby Manolos. I’d get you anything you ever wanted, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say. “Can you tell what I want right now?”

Jack smiles, his baby blues sparkling, and leans down to kiss me. Every time I kiss Jack, it feels like the first time. His soft lips touch mine and I just melt. I really do. It could be any time, any place, but when Jack kisses me, the rest of the world just floats away. I close my eyes and with Jack’s arms around me, I could be on some island in the Caribbean for all I know.

Or a federal courthouse in Manhattan, as the case may be. “Ahem,” I hear a voice say from behind me. I turn and see Judge Martin standing in the hallway, right behind us. Jack doesn’t release me from his grip, but my arms fall down as if to say: Didn’t I tell you that this man is completely, desperately, madly in love with me? Case closed. I think I’ve proven my point. “Counselors, are we going to have a problem here?”

And it was just as good a question as any to ask. Would it be a problem litigating my first major case against my fiancé while we’re planning our wedding together? Won’t thoughts of taffeta and floral arrangements distract me from being the tough, no-nonsense attorney who does not take “no” for an answer that I am?

But, I am woman, hear me roar! I can do anything I set my mind to. I’ve faced much tougher obstacles in my day. After all, I am a woman who has endured going to three of my ex-boyfriend’s weddings and I managed to totally humiliate myself at only one of them! And, I’ve only been sanctioned by the court on one of my major litigations. All in all, a pretty darn good track record. All I have to do now is plan the wedding of my dreams (well, the wedding of my mother’s dreams, anyway) and win the big case!

What could possibly go wrong?

8

In my next life, I’ve decided that I’d like to come back as Monique deVouvray. Not only is she beautiful and glamorous, but she is also the epitome of grace under fire. In the face of intense media scrutiny, she doesn’t cower. She’s not bothered at the line-up of paparazzi outside her home, nor is she concerned with gossip columnist after gossip columnist calling her to find out why her husband Jean Luc is registered as a long-term guest at the Lowell Hotel. She doesn’t care that her publicist gets called three to four times an hour to give a statement about the fact that her husband’s stay at the Lowell has become public and she doesn’t even appear fazed that this little tidbit of information seems to be the top story on Entertainment Tonight for four nights running. (Which I find especially impressive, considering she designed Mary Hart’s wedding dress for her back in 1989.) Monique didn’t even bat an eyelash at the fact that gossip blogger