The Boss Project(82)
It all bubbled to a boil once we got to the courtroom.
“Your Honor,” my lawyer said. “I have a motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim. Even if everything in the plaintiff’s petition were true, Mr. Halpern has no damages.”
Christian’s lawyer shook his head. “His reputation has been ruined by the defendant, Your Honor.”
I leaned forward and scowled at my ex. “I think your reputation was ruined by you sleeping with my best friend the night before our wedding.”
The judge narrowed his eyes at our table. “Please keep your client from speaking out of turn. She’ll get to say her piece when the time comes.”
Yeah, like any of this would bring me peace. I rolled my eyes but shut up.
My lawyer responded. “Yes, Your Honor. But back to the matter at hand. There is nothing in the petition that remotely indicates how Mr. Halpern was harmed that he should be made whole by my client. What is the basis of any damage claim? How was it calculated?”
“The damages are non-economic,” Christian’s lawyer said. “He was humiliated, suffered emotional anguish, had a loss of enjoyment of activities—”
I couldn’t help myself. I leaned forward again. “He was humiliated? He suffered a loss of enjoyment?”
The judge wagged his finger. “Not another peep, Ms. Vaughn. I’m warning you.”
My attorney held up his hand. “Could I have a word with my client, Your Honor?”
“By all means.” The judge threw up his hands. “We have nothing better to do with our time this morning.”
“Just one moment, Your Honor.”
My lawyer leaned over to me. “You’re going to wind up locked up for contempt if you don’t listen. This is the judge who’s going to rule over a trial, if it comes to that. You do not want to start off like this.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Sorry.”
My lawyer held my eyes. “Tread lightly.”
I managed to refrain from speaking for the next forty-five minutes. In the end, the judge set a trial date, but stressed that he believed it was in both our best interests to settle the matter out of court.
After it was over, my attorney and I spoke for a while in the hall. Then he had to go upstairs to a different hearing, so I headed out on my own. As I made my way down the marble stairs, Christian was suddenly by my side.
“Can we talk for a minute?” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I want to put this behind us as much as you do.”
I kept walking. “So drop the lawsuit.”
“I will…if you just have dinner with me.”
That stopped me in my tracks. My entire face wrinkled. “What?”
“Have dinner with me. And I’ll drop the lawsuit.”
“What are you talking about?”
Christian looked down. “I fucked up, Evie.”
I snort-laughed. “You think?”
“Please have dinner with me.”
“For what? What would be the purpose of that?”
“So we could talk?”
“We’re talking right now. Say what you have to say and drop the lawsuit. I just want to move on with my life.”
Christian looked up. “I can’t move on with my life without you, Evie.”
Oh my God. Is he serious? I shook my head and held up my hands. “I don’t even know what to do with that. I’m not having dinner with you.”
“Come on, Evie…”
I had no words. So I started to walk again. “Just sue me, Christian. I’d prefer that than having to look at your face for an hour over a meal.”
? ? ?
I went into the office on Saturday morning to take care of a few things since I’d been out yesterday. There were a few people milling around, but Merrick’s door was still closed. I’d taken out my notepad and started reviewing my scribbles so I could type up a session summary when I noticed my hairclip on my desk.
I picked it up and stared at it. I hadn’t left it there, had I? I didn’t think I’d ever brought one of these to the office. The only time I ever used one was when I washed my face and got ready for bed. Then it hit me—I might’ve left the one I’d used at Merrick’s on his bathroom sink. I thought back to a week ago Friday night…
I’d gone into the bathroom off Merrick’s bedroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I was just finishing when Merrick walked up behind me. He looked in the mirror with a dirty smile, unclipping my hair as he reached up underneath the T-shirt I’d been wearing. I couldn’t remember putting my clip back in my bag after that. I suppose Merrick could have left it on my desk the other day when he placed my bag on the couch. But I can’t imagine I wouldn’t have noticed. And why would he have placed it there and not in the bag with the other stuff he’d collected?
The only logical explanation was that he was back, and he’d left it on my desk either yesterday when I was out, or this morning. If that was the case, he might be upstairs right now. I thought about texting him again or picking up the phone and calling, but something was clearly going on, and I needed to see his face to know he was okay. Merrick was not the type of man to shy away from things, so maybe he was hurting more than I understood. I took a deep breath and went to the elevator.