Текст книги "Reasonable Doubt. Vol. 2"

Автор книги: Whitney Gracia Williams

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“You know, it’s rude to just leave someone after sex without saying anything,” I muttered.

“What?” His hand was on the doorknob.

“Nothing.”

“What did you say?” He cocked his head to the side. “I’m not a mind reader.”

“I said it’s rude to just leave after you fuck me. You could at least say something, anything.”

“I don’t do pillow talk.”

“It’s not pillow talk.” I scoffed. “It’s part of being a gentleman.”

“I never said I was a gentleman.”

I sighed and turned around. I waited to hear the door close, but his hands were suddenly on my waist and he was spinning me around to face him.

“What am I supposed to say after I fuck you, Aubrey?”

“You could ask if it was good for me or not...”

“I don’t believe in asking pointless questions.” He looked at his watch. “How long do you have to stay here?”

“Another hour or so.”

“Hmmm.” He was quiet. “And while you were stalking me and my date how many shots did you have?”

“I wasn’t stalking you and your date. I’ve been avoiding you all week, or haven’t you noticed?”

“ How many?”

“Five.”

“Okay.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready and have someone deliver your car to your apartment tomorrow.” He planted a kiss on my forehead before heading to the door. “Just call me.”

“Wait,” I said as he opened it. “What about your date?”

“What about her?”

***

An hour later, I slipped inside of Andrew’s car—a sleek black Jaguar. He held the door open until I was comfortable, and waited until I put on my seatbelt before shutting it.

On his dashboard, I spotted a red folder with a New York state seal on its center. I picked it up, but Andrew immediately took it from me and locked it inside his glove box.

He looked offended that I’d touched it, but he quickly turned away from me and revved up the car.

“Can I ask you something, Andrew?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“I googled you this week and nothing came up...”

“That’s not a question.”

“Why didn’t anything come up?” I looked over at him.

“Because I’m thirty-two years old and I don’t waste my time on Facebook and Twitter.”

I sighed. “And you really haven’t spoken to her in six years?”

“Excuse me?” He looked over at me as we approached a red light. “I thought we just sorted this out in the bathroom.”

“We did, but—” I cleared my throat. “You filed for a divorce, and it couldn’t go through?”

“It takes twopeople to complete a divorce, Aubrey. Surely you know that.”

“Yes, but...” I ignored the fact that he was clenching his jaw. “Wouldn’t it be easier for someone like you to make it happen? Six years is a pretty long time to stay married to someone you claim you don’t love anymore, so—”

“You’d be surprised at how well some people can spin a fucking lie to get what they want,” he said, his voice cold. “My past isn’t up for discussion.”

“Ever?”

“ Ever. It has nothing to do with you.”

I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms. “Are you ever going to tell me the reason why you left New York and moved to Durham?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have to.” He steered the car into my apartment complex. “Because like I told you an hour ago, that part of my life never happened.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone. I just—”

“ Stop it.” He faced me as he stopped the car, and I could see a world of hurt in his eyes. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen him.

“I lost something very special in New York six years ago.” There was regret in his voice. “Something I’ll never fucking get back, something I’ve spent the last six years trying to forget, and if it’s okay with you I’d like to make it to year seven.”

I opened my mouth to say sorry, but he continued talking.

“I’m not sure if I’ve made this apparent over the past six months or not,” he said, “but I’m not the ‘sit up and talk about my feelings’ type. I’m not interested in deep conversations and just because I’ve fucked you more than once and can’t seem to get you or your mouthoff my mind, that doesn’t entitle you to things I haven’t told anyone else.”

I immediately unbuckled my seatbelt and flung my door open, but he grabbed my wrist before I could get out.

“I meant what I said a few months ago, Aubrey...” He cupped my chin and tilted my head toward him. “You aremy only friend in this city, but you have to understand that I’m not used to having friends. I’m not used to talking about personal shit, and I’m not going to start now.”

Silence.

“If you’re not going to open up to me, what incentive do I have to continue being your so-called friend?”

He said nothing for a few seconds, but then he smirked. “Get in my lap and let me show you.”

“Is this a joke?”

“Am I laughing?”

“Do you really think you can just demand for me to have sex with you whenever you want?” I raised my eyebrow. “Especially since you just said you’ll never be that open about your personal life?”

“Yes.” He unbuckled his seat belt. “ Get in my lap.”

“You know...” I looked down, noticing his cock slowly stiffening through his pants. “I've let a few things slide the past few times we've had sex, but I have to tell you...” I bit my lip as I slipped out of the car. “I'm really not into the possessive caveman shit.”

He narrowed his eyes at me as I grabbed my purse and stepped back.

“I think we need to give your cock a rest don't you think?” I crossed my arms. “You have a pretty big hearing coming up next week. Don't you need to save all your energy so you can be better prepared?”

“Get back in the damn car, Aubrey...” His voice was strained.

“Are you begging me?”

“I'm commandingyou.”

“Did you not hear what I just said?”

He didn't answer. He reached out for my hand, but I shut the door.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Hamilton.” I smiled and walked away.

Liability (n.):

Legal responsibilities for one’s acts or omissions.

A week later...

Andrew

There was only one thing in Durham that held no comparison to New York: Court. The lawyers in New York actually took their jobs seriously. They pored over their research all night, polished their defenses to perfection, and presented their cases with pride.

In Durham, “lawyers” didn’t do shit, and in a moment like this—when I was listening to a young and inexperienced prosecutor embarrass herself, I almost missed those days.

Then again, I wasn’t paying too much attention to the proceedings today. I was too busy thinking about Aubrey and how many times we’d fucked in my office this morning.

We’d said our usual, “Good morning Mr. Hamilton,” “Hello Miss Everhart” greetings and locked eyes as she set my coffee down. She’d opened her seductive mouth to say something else, but the next thing I knew, my hands were in her hair and I was pulling her sexy ass against my desk.

I was ruthlessly pounding into her from behind as I massaged her clit, and when she collapsed on my carpet, I’d spread her legs and devoured her pussy.

I was completely insatiable when it came to Aubrey, and being around her for more than five seconds was enough to send me over the edge.

There’s no point in even counting how many times we’ve fucked anymore...

“As you can see...” The prosecutor’s voice suddenly cut through my thoughts. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, all of the evidence that I’ve presented will prove—”

“Objection!” I’d had enough of this shit. “Your Honor, last time I checked, this was an evidentiary hearing, not a trial. Why is Ms. Kline being allowed to address a nonexistent jury?”

The judge took off her glasses and shook her head. “Ms. Kline, as hesitant as I am to agree with Mr. Hamilton, he does have a point. Have you concluded with your presentation of evidence? Barring a closing statement to the jury?”

“I have, Your Honor,” she said, puffing out her chest as if she’d just presented the case of the century.

“Mr. Hamilton...” The judge looked my way. “Do you care to surprise me today by refuting any of the evidence presented?”

“No, Your Honor.” This hearing was a waste of time, and she knew it as well as I did.

“I see.” She put her glasses on again. “Let the record show that while the prosecution has presented a compelling and rather large collection of evidence, it’s this court’s ruling that it is not enough to warrant a trial.” She banged her gavel and stood up.

Ms. Kline walked over to me and held out her hand. “So, I’ll file an appeal, get more evidence, and see you on this matter again soon, right?”

“Are you askingme or are you tellingme?”

“Your client committed the highest degree of fraud, Mr. Hamilton.” She crossed her arms. “Someone has to pay for that.”

“No one ever will if you remain on top of it, will they?” I put my files in my briefcase. “I’ll be waiting for your next move. And yes, you should get more evidence since the judge clearly ruled that what you had was not enough.”

“So, that means I shouldappeal? Do you think I could win this thing?”

“I think you could go back to law school and fucking pay attention.” I scoffed. “Either that, or do your clients a favor and find them a better lawyer.”

“You mean someone like you?”

“There’s no onelike me.” I slid a pair of shades over my eyes. “But anyone would be better than you.”

“Are you always this rude to your opponents, Mr. Hamilton?” She cracked a smile. “I mean, I’ve heard stories, but you are really—”

“Really what?”

“Intriguing.” She stepped closer. “You are really intriguing.”

I blinked and looked her over. If I’d met her on Date-Match she might’ve been worthy of one night, but I never mixed business with pleasure.

At least, I didn’t used to.

“I’m not sure if you’re seeing anyone or not,” she said, lowering her voice, “but I think you and I have a lot in common, and—”

“What exactly do we have in common, Miss Kline?”

“Well...” She stepped even closer and rubbed my shoulder. “We were both staring at each other during the hearing, we both have high profile careers, and we both have a passion for the law—a passion that could clearly be transferred to other things.” She licked her lips. “Right?”

I stepped back. “Miss Kline, I was staring at you during the hearing because I was trying to comprehend how someone could show up to court and be so unprepared, unprofessional, and utterly annoying. We do both have high profile careers, but if you continue presenting cases like the one you presented today, I’ll be interviewing you for a secretary position at my firm within the next six months.” I ignored her gasp. “And if your passion for the law is anythinglike the way you fuck, then you and I have absolutely nothing in common.”

“Did you...” She shook her head, stepping back as her face reddened. “Did you really just say that to me?”

“Did you really just proposition me for sex?”

“I was simply probing—seeing if you were interested in going out.”

“I’m not,” I said—noticing that I wasn’t even the slightest bit aroused. “Am I free to leave the courtroom now or would you like to probe mefor something else?”

“You are an asshole!” She spun around and grabbed her briefcase off the floor. “You know, for your clients’ sake, I hope you’re a lot nicer.” She spat out as she left the room.

I wanted to tell her that I actually wasn’tnicer to my clients. I didn’t put up with bullshit from anyone, and since I hadn’t lost a single case since moving to Durham, I didn’t have to.

Looking at my watch, I figured I’d wait a few minutes before leaving. I didn’t want to run into her in the parking lot, and since the remaining courts were adjourning for lunch, I figured I’d wait a while.

I stuffed my hands into my pocket and smiled at lacy fabric that grazed my left hand. Pulling it out, I smiled at Aubrey’s black thong from this morning.

I took my phone out of my briefcase to text her about it, but she’d emailed me first.

Subject: Wet Panty Fetish

I’m not sure if you’ve realized that I left my thong in your pocket yet, but I want you to know that I did it for your own good, and that your secret is safe with me.

Ever since you fucked me in the bathroom at the art gallery, I’ve noticed that you have a tendency to stare at my panties before taking them off.

You run your fingers across them, pull them off with your teeth, and then you stare at them again. I have no problem continuing to appease your panty fetish. I’m sure you place them over your face at night, and if you ever need more feel free to let me know.

Aubrey

Subject: Re: Wet Panty Fetish

I did realize that you slipped your thong into my pocket this morning. I’ve noticed that you’ve done this all week.

Contrary to your unfounded and silly assumptions, I do not have a panty fetish and I do not sleep with them over my face at night. I do, however, have a new fetish for your pussy, and if you’re interested in letting me sleep with THAT over my face at night, feel free to let me know.

Andrew

I waited for a response—watched my screen for several minutes, but then I realized it was Wednesday and she wouldn’t see my email until later.

I made my way outside and slipped into my car. I didn’t feel like going back to the firm—my case files were all up to date, and it was too early to go home.

Revving up my car, I coasted down the street in search of a decent bar. As I was turning past the law school, I noticed Duke’s dance hall across the street.

I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I made a right turn and pulled into the parking lot. I followed the signs that read “Dance Studio” and parked in front.

There was a sign on the double doors of the auditorium that read “Private Rehearsals: Dancers Only,” but I ignored it. I followed the faint sound of piano keys and violin strings and opened the door to a colossal theater.

Bright lights shone directly on the stage, and dancers dressed in all white were spinning. Before I could come to my senses and make myself leave, I spotted Aubrey in the front.

Wearing the same feathered headband she wore at the art gallery, she was smiling wider than I’d ever seen her smile before—dancing as if no one else was in the room. There was a gleam in her eyes that I never saw while she was at GBH, and although I didn’t know shit about ballet, it was extremely clear that she was the best dancer onstage.

“Extend, Miss Everhart! Extend!” A grey haired man walked onto the stage, yelling. “More! More!”

She continued dancing—stretching her arms out further, extending her hands. “No! No! NO!” The man stomped his foot. “Stop the music!”

The pianist immediately stopped and the director stepped in front of Aubrey.

“Do you know what the characteristics of the white swanare, Miss Everhart?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“ Yes?” He looked offended.

“Yes, Mr. Petrova.” She stood still.

“If that’s so, why don’t you enlighten us all as to what those special characteristics are...”

“Light, airy, elegant—”

“Elegant!” He stomped his foot again. “The white swan is all about smooth, gentle movements... Her arms are well poised, graceful.” He grabbed her elbow and pulled her forward. “Your arms are erratic, rough, and you’re dancing like a pigeon on crack!”

Her cheeks reddened, but he continued.

“I want a swan, Miss Everhart, and if you’re not up to the part—if your heart is elsewhere, like that other major you have, do me favor and let me know so I can groom someone else for the role.”

Silence.

“Let’s try this again!” He stepped back. “On my count, start the song from the second stanza...”

I leaned back against the wall, watching Aubrey effortlessly dance again and make everyone else look like amateurs. I watched until I couldn’t watch anymore, until her old director spotted my shadow and yelled at “the goddamn intruder” to leave.

***

Later that night, I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of bourbon,—pouring myself a shot. It was two in the morning and I was beyond restless.

I hadn’t been able to sleep since I came home and spotted a note from Ava on my door: “I’m not leaving until we talk—Ava.”

I’d balled it up and thrown it into the trash, wondering which person at GBH had been stupid enough to give out my address.

As I tossed back a shot, my phone rang.

“It’s two in the morning,” I hissed, holding it up to my ear.

“Um...” There was a slight pause. “May I speak to a...A Mr. Hamilton, please?”

“This is he. Did you nothear me say what time it is?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hamilton.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Gloria Matter from the parole board in New York City. I’m sorry to call you so late, but I didn’t want to turn in until I returned your inquiry from last week,” she said. “The inmate you called about is no longer an inmate. She was released recently and is now on parole.”

“I’m awarethat she’s on parole.” I poured another drink. “However, I’m pretty sure leaving the state is a direct violation of those terms. Is New York soft on crime now? Do you let previous offenders roam the world as they please?”

“No sir, but she checked in with her officer this morning. We also checked her monitor the second we received your phone call so she’s still in the state...I must warn you that we don’t take too kindly to false reporting, Mr. Hamilton. If this was some type of—”

“I know what the fuck I saw.” I seethed. “She was here.” I hung up. I didn’t care enough to think about Ava right now.

I headed into my bedroom and lay against the sheets, hoping this second round of alcohol would work better than the first.

I lay there for an hour, watching the seconds on my clock tick by, yet no sleep came and thoughts of Aubrey began to fill my mind. I was thinking about the things she’d told me when we we’d first met, things she’d told me about her sex life, and I had the sudden urge to hear her voice.

I rolled over and scrolled down to her name.

“Hello?” She answered on the first ring. “Andrew?”

“Why haven’t you sucked a cock before?”

“ What?” She gasped. “How about ‘Good morning, Aubrey’? Are you awake?’ How about asking those things first?”

“Hello, Aubrey.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re clearly awake, so I’ll bypass that unnecessary question. Why haven’t you sucked a cock before?”

She was silent.

“Do I need to drive to your apartment and make you answer the question in person?”

“Are you really in need of this information at three in the morning?”

“Desperately,” I said. “Answer the question.”

“It’s just something I never wanted to do.” There were papers shuffling in the background. “One of the guys I used to date would ask me to do it to him from time to time—to reciprocate, but I just...I didn’t like him enough to do it.”

“Hmmm.”

Silence.

We hadn’t had an actual phone conversation since the last time we had phone sex, right before I found out her real name was Aubrey and not Alyssa.

“Were you thinking about me?” she suddenly asked.

“What?”

“Were you thinking about me?” She repeated. “You’ve never called me this late before. Are you lonely?”

“I’m horny.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Would you like me to tell you what I’m wearing?”

“I already know what you’re wearing.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.” I put a hand behind my head. “It’s Wednesday, which means you had practice until midnight, which means you went home and showered and immediately put your feet in an ice tub without putting on any pajamas.”

She sucked in a breath.

“And from the way you’re breathing right now I take it you’re still naked, and the reason you picked up my call on the first ring is because you want to touch yourself to the sound of my voice.”

Another gap of silence.

“Am I wrong?” I asked.

“No...” Her voice was low. “I don’t think you’re horny right now though.”

“Trust me. I am.”

“Maybe, but I think you called me because you likeme—because you want to hear my voice since we haven’t talked on the phone in a while.”

“I called you because my dick is hard and I want to make you cum over the phone.”

She laughed again. “So, you don’t like me?”

“I like your pussy.”

“So, the white roses and the “He’s just yelling at you because he knows you’re the best/Don’t let him get to you” note that was on the hood of my car today weren’t from you?”

I hung up.

Retraction (n.):

The legal withdrawal of a promise or offer of contract.

Andrew

“How do you think we should proceed with the client, Harriet?” I leaned back in my chair the next night, dreading my “Let the Interns Help with One Case per Month” required hours.

“Um, Mr. Hamilton...” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “My name is Hannah.”

“Same thing,” I said. “How do you think we should proceed with this case?”

“We could put his ex-wife on the stand. She could vouch for his character.”

“They were married for thirty days.” I rolled my eyes and looked at the intern sitting next to her. “And that was ten years ago. Bob, what do you have?”

“It’s...It’s actually Bryan.”

“It’s whatever I say it is. What. Do. You. Have?”

“I was doing some research on his background and he apparently was reprimanded for breaking his university’s fire wall his senior year. We could start there and build a case around his past of anarchy...”

I sighed. “He’s ourclient, Bryan. Why would we intentionally make him look bad?”

He blinked.

I turned toward the last intern in the room, a petite brunette. “What do you suggest?”

“You’re not going to try to guess my name?” She smiled.

“I just realized that you weren’t my janitor today. What do you have?”

“This.” She slid a folder across the table. “If we’re trying to prove that he wasn’t in breach of his company’s policies when he took out his initial shares, we could use this case as a reference.”

I opened the folder, reading the first line of a case that was not only over a hundred years old, but it had been overturned by the Supreme Court decades ago.

“Did you all smoke the same drugs before your interviews?” I shook my head. “You’re in law school. A few years away from potentially having someone’s future in your hands and this is the type of shit you come up with?”

“With all due respect, Mr. Hamilton...” Bryan spoke up. “Is there even a right answer to this question? I mean...Is this one of those ha-ha this was just a test to see how our minds work things? Is there really an answer?”

“Yes.” I stood up.

“Really? What is it?”

“It’s go the fuck home.” I started stacking my papers. “All of you. Right now.”

“But—”

“Now.” I glared at them, waiting until they all left the room.

The second I was alone I let out a sigh and sat down again. I was better off letting Jessica help me out on this case. She didn’t know shit about the law but I was sure that she would at least try.

“Mr. Hamilton, I—” Aubrey stepped into the room with a cup of coffee. “Where did everyone go?”

“Home.” I took the cup from her, frustrated. “You’re free to go, too.”

“Are you ever going to formally give me my intern position back or am I forever stuck being your coffee and file organizer?”

“You’re also in charge of taking phone calls. That’s a responsibility you shouldn’t take lightly.”

“I’m serious...” She rolled her eyes. “As much as I enjoy having sex with you every morning with your coffee, I would like to go back to feeling like I actually have a purpose here.”

“Fine.” I took a sip from my cup. “Have you been keeping up with my current case?”

She nodded.

“Great,” I said dryly. “How do you think I should proceed?”

“I think you need to first get ahold of the man who erased your client’s identity.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

She took a folder from her purse and set it in front of me. “My parents taught me how to research someone’s background very, very well. That’s the one thing I can credit them for.” She flipped a few pages. “Your client has school records from his childhood—test scores, address changes, et cetera. There’s a record of where he attended college, grad school—even a record of the time he broke into his school’s firewall and got suspended for an entire semester. After that, there’s a short failed marriage to some woman he met in Cabo, and a few founding records for his company. But after that—with the exception of these recent allegations, there’s nothing.”

I glanced at the pages.

“Don’t you think that’s odd?” She looked at me. “How you can google someone and nothing about them pops up? How you can search several databases for information and find entire decades are missing?”

I shut the folder. “It’s slightly odd.”

“ Slightly?”

“Yes. Slightly. Is this all the evidence you have?”

“It’s all the evidence you need.” She stared into my eyes. “Find the guy who erased him, or find the guy who erased youand you might have yourself another win under your belt. If not—”

“ Aubrey...”

“People don’t just come out of nowhere, Andrew,” she said. “You know that, I know that, and I’m pretty sure your client knows that.”

“Now we’re talking about the client?”

“There is no record of Andrew Hamilton in any of state’s registered lawyer databases.”

“I’m not facing a trial.”

“I called every law school in the state and pretended to be an alumna searching for a fellow alum and there was no record of an Andrew Hamilton getting his degree from any of them.”

“Are you that obsessed with me?” He smirked.

“I did the same thing for the law schools in New York. That was a bit trickier, but the results were just the same. There was no record of you going to school during the years you would’ve been in attendance.”

“And this affects you how?”

“You humiliated me when you found out I lied to you.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t.” She shook her head. “You made me cry because you told me that I was a liar for hiding the truth and pretending to be someone I wasn’t.”

“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be the only person to classify you as a liarafter what you did.”

“Yet, every day that I fuck you, every night that I talk to you on the phone, I’m no closer to getting to know anything about you.” There was concern in her eyes. “It’s always me talking about me, or you talking about abstract things that make up a blurry picture.”

“It doesn’t matter. I told you that I—”

“That you’ve never lied to me,” she said. “I believe that, and for a moment I thought that you were always completely honest with me, but when I look back, you’re only honest about what youwant to talk about. Hence, the random appearance of Mrs.Hamilton, and—”

“I’ve told you about that already.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her close to me. “So, I’m not going to waste my time rehashing shit I’ve already gone over with you.”

“Just...”

“Look.” I pressed my finger against her lips. “You’re the only woman I’ve fucked regularly in six years.”

“Am I supposed to be proud of that?”

I pulled her into my lap. “You’re the only woman—only person actually, that I talk to outside of my hours at this office, the only woman I’ve ever fucked over the phone, the only woman who’s been in my car, and the only woman who’s lied to me and still gotten me to stay...”

She sighed, staring back at me.

“Now,” I said, “if you don’t mind, I’m going to fuck you in this chair. And when we’re done I’ll kindly show you how to research someone the right way, because contrary to what you think, my client does have a background.”

“No, I double checked everything and I—”

I pressed my lips against hers. “ AfterI fuck you.”