Under the Table(34)
Without the club lighting, the throbbing beats, and the frenzied dancing, the questionably Honorable Randolph Hollister cut quite the dashing figure, right down to the wedding ring he was now wearing. The robe made him look way more dignified than the goofy dude on the dance floor, trying to make the most of the two steps he knew. Before he was just another schlub in the club making moony eyes at her sister and laughing at his own pickup lines. When you take people out of their context, they appear differently, something Zoey realized she should’ve figured out by now. Lesson learned. Again.
Zoey wasn’t sure how to approach him and what she’d say when and if she got the chance. She watched as he delivered the same monologue time after time, asking what their crime was and if they willingly entered their plea, and saying what the typical sentence was for each offense. Then he’d rattle off their fine and the court costs and it would be on to the next person.
He was empathetic in his dealings with the people who stood before him, even matter-of-fact in his delivery. He didn’t go off on long tangents at the litigants. He waited as long as he could before he issued bench warrants for people who didn’t show up to answer their summonses, calling out their names with a quick look around the room, before finally handing off the paperwork to his clerk.
Zoey knew he recognized her when during one of his scans of the courtroom, his gaze rested on her and he did a double take. Then he looked directly at her and his stare turned icy. The whole encounter took less than three seconds, but it was enough to make her blood run cold through her veins.
This is a huge mistake, Zoey thought. She watched, glued to her seat near the back of the room, as the judge became less and less tolerant of the defendants that stood before him. Fines began increasing and sentences became stiffer, accompanied by stinging lectures about responsibility, and he barked orders of silence when people tried to explain themselves. All done with intermittent glares in her direction.
After one of those scowls, Judge Hollister motioned to the bailiff by crooking a finger. The bailiff bent his head toward the judge while covering the court microphone with his hand. They shared a muted exchange and they both looked at her. When the bailiff headed toward where she was sitting, Zoey’s flight response kicked in. She jumped out of her seat and out the closest door.
She ran until her chest hurt when she tried to draw breath and the pain in her side was unbearable, her legs turning into cramp-filled logs. She slowed down to a hurried walk back to the train station.
Safely on the train back to the city, Zoey was unable to quell the shudders that continued to plague her. It would’ve been one thing if Randolph Hollister was nasty and abrupt to everyone, but until he caught sight of her, he seemed logical and compassionate. He knew he was no innocent victim when it came to what happened with Ruth. One look at her was all it took for him to have what she considered a public temper tantrum. And that made Zoey feel worse. Thanks to her efforts, all she managed to accomplish was doubling the fine for a guy with an expired insurance card and a woman receiving a ten-minute scolding about how she shouldn’t be speeding with kids in the car.
*
“Of all the arrogant, pigheaded, sanctimonious . . . ,” Ruth sputtered after Zoey reported the news.
At least she wasn’t angry at Zoey for trying to approach him on her behalf. She waited patiently for Ruth to settle into a more obscenity-laced tirade. Ruth could swear better than the average sailor on shore leave.
“You know what?” Ruth threw her Lean Cuisine dinner into the microwave and slammed the door. “I had no idea that the bouncers face-planted him on the street, and if he wasn’t such a first-rate ass clown I would almost feel sorry for him.”
“What are you going to do?” Zoey asked.
Ruth watched her sesame chicken spin around in the microwave. Zoey could practically hear the wheels turning as Ruth considered her options. She turned back to Zoey with an evil smile.
“I’m not going to do anything.”
“You’re not going to show up to court?” Zoey was aghast.
“Oh, I’m going to show up to court all right. And I’m going to show up looking like the most innocent, proper damsel they ever saw.”
“Don’t you think your money would be better spent in hiring a lawyer instead?” Zoey longed to introduce Blake back into the conversation. If nothing else, he would give her good advice.
“I wasn’t going to buy anything. I thought maybe I could borrow some of your clothes?”
If Zoey wasn’t so apprehensive of where Ruth was going with this, the insult might have stung more. “I don’t own anything like that. And we are not even remotely the same size. You mean you’re going to go for the baggy matron look?”
Ruth briefly looked Zoey up and down. “You’re right. Looks like I’m going shopping.”
“You need to be shopping for an attorney.”
“I’m not throwing away money to try and fight a rigged system,” Ruth scoffed.
Zoey was nibbling on her cuticles—a bad habit that she thought she’d beaten years ago. “I think that’s a bad idea.”
“Which is why you’re you and I’m me. I’m going to make this joker look like the worst kind of creeper.”
The verdict was in. Ruth was going insane. She was going to go full throttle against someone Zoey had just explained was a first-class jerk. Explaining to his wife what happened to him that night must have been quite inconvenient for him. Randolph Hollister didn’t seem like a man who would let go of a grudge. From all she had witnessed, she seriously had to question if he even had a moral code. Ruth was a force to be reckoned with, but he had a much better arsenal. Zoey knew where her loyalty had to lie, but it didn’t mean she was at all comfortable with it.