To calm his nerves, he imagined himself owning the space. He visualized walking over to the bench, taking control of the entire courtroom.
Not an inspiring set design, unfortunately. The courtrooms in Philadelphia were all wood tones. Brown ceiling, brown walls, brown furniture. It was like being trapped inside a walnut. The carpet wasn’t brown, but by the time your eyes got down there, your retinas no longer registered any other color. The courtrooms even smelled brown—the dull, lifeless smell of windowless rooms.
Great. Now he needed to cheer himself up as well as relax.
Think of something bright.
There were some gold accents in the US seal on the wall above the bench. As a lawyer, Jack had often focused on the eagle clutching arrows in one claw and an olive branch in the other. As the judge he wouldn’t see that unless he swiveled around and looked up. Instead, he’d just have some lawyers to look at. With his luck, they’d be wearing head-to-toe brown and he’d start laughing.
Maybe he’d picture them naked. That was supposed to relax public speakers.
“All rise!” Tony delivered his only line with deep panache, audible even in the wings.
Jack’s cue.
Enter stage right: The Judge
. He swallowed back his nerves.
As he walked over to the massive dark leather chair, he kept his eyes on the empty wood benches at the back of the room, not looking directly at the three people standing before him. They were waiting for him to sit so they could sit. Despite a year of politicians and the vetting process and the FBI background check and judge’s school, Jack hadn’t gotten used to the idea that people had to stand for him. He was supposed to convey dignity and authority, not make people smirk. “Blackjack’s a judge now” shouldn’t be a punch line.
Jack signaled to his law clerk. “Okay, Mr. Alexander, what have we got this morning?” he said quietly. The young man bounced out of his seat. Even standing, his head and shoulders were all Jack could see above the ledge at the front of the bench.
The clerk leaned in to whisper. “Defendant’s motion to compel in
Everton v. Keri-Age Inc
., Judge. Wrongful termination suit with a breach-of-contract countersuit. With all due respect, plaintiff’s case is a dog. Judge Wilkins told the parties to settle it last fall. Instead, they’re still fighting over discovery.”
Turning toward plaintiff’s counsel, Jack adopted a particularly impatient expression. “Mr. Mather, why are we here?” Bart Mather was a hack lawyer who took pretty much any case that walked through the door. Jack looked at his grubby complexion and rumpled suit. Mather’s scalp was shiny with sweat, making him look panicked. No surprise there—the guy always seemed jumpy, as though his license was about to be revoked.
“Good morning, Your Honor,” Mather began. “My client, Mr. Everton, has sued his former employer for wrongful termination, and—”
“I’m aware of that,” Jack interrupted. “Why are we here
today?
I believe Judge Wilkins made it clear last September that this case should settle promptly and go away. And yet, six months later, it’s barely budged. Tectonic plates move faster.”
Jack sensed the lawyer for the defendant standing to address him. “Your Honor, if I may explain.” Her voice, starched to crispness, started to argue the motion. “Under Rule 26, defendant’s motion to compel must be granted. Mr. Mather has failed to cite any case law to show why his client doesn’t need to produce his tax returns for the years in question. One can only infer that the plaintiff knows that he’s suffered no financial damages since he changed jobs. As that is an essential component of his case in chief—”
Jack turned toward the defense table. He was ready to interrupt her too, thus keeping his judicial impatience balanced. Only—something about the businesslike woman standing behind the table stopped his rebuke. He could hear her talking, but her argument faded into the background.
Why was she so familiar? He’d never met her before. He didn’t even know her name, yet he couldn’t stop looking at her long enough to find it in the bench memo. She wasn’t particularly beautiful—although she had petal-smooth skin and hair like moonlight—so it couldn’t be her looks that stopped him. Somehow this woman set his nerves on fire. Jack could hear a rush, as though he was speeding through a long tunnel.
She stopped speaking. He kept looking at her. The courtroom got very quiet.
He had no explanation for the way his body was reacting. Chills crawled up his arms. His heart raced ahead of his sluggish thoughts. His hands tingled. His mouth felt coated in chalk dust, only he didn’t reach for the glass of water in front of him.
Being in the same room with her felt as though they’d only parted minutes ago. Or maybe it had been years and he’d lost hope he would ever see her again. The sight of her answered a question in his heart. It made no sense, but Jack had been waiting for her.
This lawyer—her eyes sparking with emotion, her creamy complexion and enchanting rose-pink mouth pressed tight shut, and that pale hair glinting under the courtroom lights—was his future.
People started fidgeting. Jack ignored them.
His brain struggled to make sense of what was happening. Nothing. The sense of finding a lost treasure had ripped away his ability to think straight and made his heart pound. What a wonderful feeling, thrilling and fizzy. Like iced champagne at a picnic, diamond-spray on a rocky shore, a roller coaster ride in the fog. Getting affirmed by the Supreme Court couldn’t possibly be more exciting.
She shifted from one foot to the other, then smoothed her blue dress. She stole a glance at Mather. She seemed uncertain what was happening or maybe she wasn’t sure what she should be doing.
“Your Honor?” she prompted.
She looked intelligent…and, Jack noticed then, very annoyed.
Suddenly, as if a camera had panned back to include the whole room, Jack could see that Jamie Alexander had turned to look up at him from the clerk’s seat, and even the court reporter was staring. Everyone was waiting for him to say something.
He frowned. They looked away. He looked back at
her
.
This wasn’t in the script. She was a lawyer in his courtroom. He could hardly talk to her in any personal way even after the hearing was over. It would be a gross violation of his role as the judge. Plus, it would also put her in an invidious position. Everyone would assume she’d approached him
ex parte
to get him to grant her motion.
The irony was, Jack had been prepared to rule in her favor once he’d impressed on both sides this case needed to settle. He could order them into chambers for an impromptu settlement conference but what if he couldn’t get them to agree to a dollar amount? Mather was capable of stringing his client along just to jack up his fees and inflate the amount the defendant would pay to make the case go away. On the other hand, some defendants chose to fight rather than settle. It could take months or even years before
Everton
was off his docket and he’d be free to ask
her
out on a date. By then, another of her cases might be assigned to him, and another after that. He’d feel the same way about her every single time.
Jack couldn’t be an impartial jurist with this woman in the room. He tried to imagine seeing her only as a lawyer in his court, but already—before he even knew her name—he ached to learn if she felt the thrill he did. And no matter how the case ended, Jack couldn’t just ask her out for dinner the next night. It would look like she’d tried to influence the court.
Crap.
They hadn’t covered this in judge’s school.
“Counsel, approach the bench.” He motioned to the court reporter. “This is off the record.”
When Mather and—Jack finally looked at the papers to learn her name—
Elise Carroll
were huddled by the far side of the bench, Jack rolled his chair over to talk to them. He fixed his eyes on Mather, but his other senses focused on her body, just inches away. He could smell her scent. He wanted to know if her hair was as silky as it appeared. He couldn’t risk turning toward her. He’d grin at her in greeting, as though their connection went back years.
“Counsel, I apologize. I have to recuse myself from hearing this case.”
“That’s okay, Judge—” Mather stumbled.
“Your Honor, why? You’ve only just gotten this case. Surely you would have known if you’d had a conflict with the parties,” Elise Carroll objected. She sounded like she wanted to choke him.
With her irritation smoldering to his right, Jack kept his gaze on Mather, who was rocking his body back and forth, smiling in relief.
Stupid rabbit.
“I’ll notify the clerk’s office to reassign it to another judge. I will stress that although I can’t hear this case, the court to which it is assigned should rule on all pending motions promptly.”
“Surely you can rule on the defense motion to compel before you hand the case off to another judge,” Elise Carroll said. Jack resisted the urge to see if her face was as pinched as her voice. “This case has stalled long enough.”
Jack looked over the lawyers’ heads to the portraits of earlier judges lining the wall of the courtroom.
You guys never had this problem, did you?
“I’m sorry, Ms. Carroll. It would be highly improper for me to rule on your client’s motion. As I say, the next judge will be fully briefed on the status of this case.”
“Your Honor!” Elise Carroll said in a low, fierce voice. “I request—” the way she said
request
, Jack could tell she meant
demand,
“—that you state for the record what reason you have for recusing yourself.”
Damn.
Because I want to date you?
That didn’t sound right somehow.
I have feelings for you?
That was even worse.
He had to say something. The rules for judicial conduct required him to give his reasons for disqualifying himself, however little he wanted to say it out loud. He considered denying her request, or hauling the lawyers into his chambers. Except—he did a quick scan—with only six people in the room, moving to chambers wouldn’t change much. Anything he said off the record to Mather this morning would likely be blabbed to a reporter for the
Legal Intelligencer
over lunch. Might as well say it in open court.
So much for not wanting to be a punch line…
Jack gave her—
Elise, that’s a pretty name
—a cool glance. “Very well, Ms. Carroll. Step back.”
He waited for the lawyers to walk back to their respective tables. Mather shook his head to cut off his client’s fevered whispering.
Jack nodded to the court reporter to go back on the record.
“As you know—” Jack addressed the space between the two lawyers and used his most formal tone. “I inherited Judge Wilkins’s docket. My chambers is working hard to get all of her cases back on track after the transition. I appreciate that it is inconvenient to have yet another judge assigned after the time that has passed, but I couldn’t have foreseen this conflict before today’s hearing. Therefore, in compliance with the canon of judicial ethics, I must recuse myself from hearing this case—”
He paused, then looked straight at Elise Carroll.
This had to be the worst way to start a relationship. He hoped she’d understand.
“—because I’m in love with counsel for the defendant.”
What else could he have said?
The table edge bit into Elise’s palm. It hurt, but it was also the only thing holding her up. Blackjack McIntyre had just said
what
? She wasn’t sure she’d heard him through the ocean roar in her ears. He’d said—her lips fell open. She slapped them shut. He couldn’t actually have said…
that
. Could he? If she was wrong, she’d look like an idiot. But what else could it have been?
That perfect face gave off no clues—his unsmiling stare was thoroughly judicial. Not exactly mad-for-you goo-goo eyes. It wasn’t the puckish look of a man playing a practical joke, either. It was the level gaze of a man who wasn’t kidding.
Elise knew then that she’d heard correctly the first time. Blackjack McIntyre had just declared his—oh, God, this was a nightmare.
Alarms clanged in her brain and she blinked twice. Only a surge of rage made her choose fight over flight. She let go of the table and grabbed onto that anger, letting it stiffen her knees and stretch her spine.
“With all due respect, Judge McIntyre, I want it on the record that we’ve never met each other before today,” Elise insisted, her voice miraculously rock-solid.
“True.” He sounded almost bored.
“Then how can you claim to have an ethical duty to recuse yourself on the basis of—?” Elise couldn’t actually say the words.
“My feelings for you?” he finished for her blandly. She’d faced appellate court judges who were more animated. “Have you never heard of love at first sight, Ms. Carroll?”
Love at first—? No way. Not in a courtroom, certainly. In fact, not anywhere. Elise wasn’t even sure she believed couples who’d been together for years were really “in love.” Whatever love was, it wasn’t the flu. You didn’t catch it just by meeting someone.
Blackjack McIntyre was messing with her. Something about that damned magazine cover perhaps. And she couldn’t retaliate. This was too freaking much.
Her fists clenched.
She regarded him with queasy loathing. Of course
he
was like granite. He looked like he’d never been wrong, ever, in his life. And now she had to point out how wrong he was? She could feel the steam squealing in her head.
Forget the case. Forget Everton and that worm, Mather, snickering at her discomfort. Forget everyone who had ever told her that no matter what the judge says, the only appropriate reply is “Thank you, Your Honor.”
This was war.
She resisted the urge to put her hands on her hips. Drawing on a decade of courtroom etiquette, she ground out a victory over her instinct to scream at him.
“Love at first sight is about as real as the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus.” She added, “
Your Honor
.” Hardly deferential. At least her sarcasm wouldn’t show up on the transcript.