Chapter 17

THEA

Two months. It had been two months since that night in his office, and four months since I had met Levi Black. Four months since my world, and my life, had been turned upside down. In class, he was Professor Black, and after that night in the office, he was especially brutally in the classroom—we were now down to fourteen— but the moment I found myself alone with him—no matter how hard I tried I always ended up alone with him— in elevators, stairwells, cars— he always transformed back into just Levi. Just Levi was sexy, and passionate and… he was driving me insane.

When he said it wasn’t over, he’d meant it. If we were left alone in his town car, his hands found their way between my legs. When I wore pants, he smirked at the change and he would blatantly kiss me while his driver turned up the radio. The second his lips would touch mine, my mind would go blank, and before I realized it, the top button of my pants would be undone. What was worse was I was enjoying it. I enjoyed seeing how he would get to me. It excited me in ways I didn’t understand. My head kept telling me to stop but I didn’t want to.

In elevators, he would push the stop button, and push me up against the wall, kissing me as if it were the last time he was ever going to kiss anyone. I would cling to him wanting more than to just a kiss. He did the same thing whenever we were in stairwells; he’d drive me back into a wall and kiss me fiercely and passionately. He’d even take it as far as trailing kisses down my neck, and gently biting the tops of my breasts, before backing away with a smile. That wasn’t enough for me.

I didn’t want to stop him. It turned me on each and every time, and every time he’d let me go, I’d realize that I wanted him more. But he never took it further than passionate kiss, or light teasing, and somehow that made it far worse than if we were actually having sex. His kisses, his touches, they weren’t enough.

When I’d sent Selene back to Maryland, I was proud of myself. I was proud that I had put away my lust and selfishness to do what I’d come here to do. But now, it was like I was going back on the promise I’d made to myself.

I just needed to reject him. I needed to be clear and straightforward. I needed for him to not touch me.

“So, this will be the end of the line for two of you,” he said, as he stood at the front of the class. “Whoever gets the lowest scores on the winter final, will be out. I would congratulate whoever you are right now for making it this far, but losing is nothing to congratulate anyone on.”

He walked around his desk and sat down. Taking out his red pen, he began to grade our exams. After spending three hours taking the damn thing, we were all exhausted and eager to leave, however, we needed to know whether or not we’d made it to the final twelve.

Vivian handed me some popcorn and I shook you my head at her. Atticus however, reached over and grabbed a handful.

“Six shots it’s the guy in the bow-tie,” Atticus said, and the guy turned back and glared at him.

Atticus shrugged and continued eating his popcorn.

“Ten it’s scarf guy,” Vivian whispered, “the one with the ‘80s earring.”

“Does anyone know anyone’s names?” I looked between them.

“No,” they both said.

“Why bother if he just kicks them out anyway? Can you remember any of the faces that have been kicked out of this class so far?” Vivian questioned.

“Once the twelve are set, I’ll learn the other nine names.” Atticus said, already counting us in.

They were so confident, and yet my hands were shaking.

Vivian looked towards me. “Why are you so stressed?”

“Why aren’t you? Am I the only one that thought the test was hard?”

They looked at each other for a moment before they both got up and sat at the end of the row… away from me.

Assholes.

“Funny,” I said but they pretended that they couldn’t see me. “Fine, I hope you both fail.”

“Do you hear something Vivian?”

“I’m not sure, but it sounds like the soft, snowy cries of doubt, Atticus.”

The soft, snowy cries of doubt?

“That doesn’t even make sense,” I snapped at them.

“Shh!” Bow-tie guy turned to us.

“Seriously, have you been here all semester?” I asked him, causing Vivian and Atticus to erupt into a fit of laughter.

They stopped the moment Levi looked up though. His green eyes scanned the classroom and everyone stopped breathing. Then, he looked back down, and continued grading.

The bastard was doing it on purpose!

Even so, I enjoyed watching him. His dark hair was slightly mussed, mostly from the good luck make out session we’d had on the stairwell right before we got to class.

I’m supposed to be rejecting him. But instead, here I was, daydreaming about how good it felt to be pinned against him, and how sexy he was with his glasses on. It was like I was under his control.

Once again when he looked up, we all froze. He got up, grabbed the eraser and began to erase my information.

“Oh shit,” Atticus said, sounding as though he were on the other end of the earth, or at least that was what it sounded like because of the way my heart was pounding against my chest and temples.

I watched in horror as he slowly erased my family, undergraduate degree, race, and finally my age, before stopping right under my name. Dropping the eraser, he grabbed the chalk and began writing the names of the other students in the class.

“Son of a bitch,” I gasped, easing back into the chair.

“And just when we thought we had finally gotten rid of you,” Atticus sighed, taking the seat to my right.

“She’s like Arnold Schwarzenegger, she keeps coming back, even when you don’t want her to,” Vivian added, taking a seat to my left.

“Thanks guys,” I said with sarcasm.

“Come on bow-tie guy.” Atticus pumped his fist waiting to see if the guy would get up and leave as Levi wrote only twelve names on the board.

Sure enough, bow tie did his walk of shame.

“Yes!” he cheered, and the pour guy looked like he wanted to strangle him. “Maybe next year?”

“Scarf guy is… gone.” Vivian high-fived him and turned to me.

Rolling my eyes, I high-fived her.

“You’re both horrible people.”

“Sure, and how did we become your allies again? Good thing we’re friends now,” Atticus countered.

But in all honesty, I wasn’t sure if they were my friends. They were people I spent a lot of time with, but I wasn’t sure if that made us friends.

“Ladies and gentlemen, congratulations. You are now a part of ‘the twelve disciples’,” he said.

Why I do I feel like the pope is sneezing or something?

“From now on, we’ll no longer be holding sessions in this room. Instead, all of my classes will be held at my office. You will be learning first-hand what it means to be a criminal lawyer.”

He began to gather up his things, and the moment we—Atticus, Vivian and I— noticed, we were on our feet.

“Neither I, nor my associates, have the time to catch you up to speed. And as you know, I am currently working on the Nash Case with three of your classmates. Luckily, they’ve managed to keep their seats, because it would have been rather awkward for you all otherwise—Why aren’t you walking?” he barked.

As we all turned to see what who he was talking to, we saw that all other nine students were still in their seats. Atticus’ eyes widened and he jerked his head in a ‘come along, hurry up’ gesture. The nine students all rose and rushed out of the classroom to follow us.

“Things will be happening quickly,” he continued. “If you can’t show up, don’t come back. If you think you will be celebrating Christmas with your family, look to your left and then your right; shake hands with who you see, because that’s who your new family is. You will do what you’re asked, when you’re asked, and go where you are needed. Every day is Judgment Day. Being part of the twelve is not a free ride. Your real work starts now.”

He waited for no one and was already in his town car.

“If you aren’t at the office before he is, he will smite you,” I said to them, as Vivian hailed a taxi for us three.

“See you there,” Atticus said as we took a seat inside.

I turned to see them rushing for taxis of their own, but it was rush hour, and it was virtually impossible to hail one down. Which is why we not only spilt one, but we had him on speed dial.

“I kind of understand why his associates treat us like crap now. It’s kind of fun when you’re the one dishing it out,” Vivian said.

And she was right. It was kind of fun, but we all knew it was only going to last the duration of our cab ride.

The Nash case was set for the week before Christmas, then there would be a short break before Levi would be back in court.

Where had the year gone?

LEVI “A juror was tweeting during selection? Are you fucking kidding me? Which one?”

“Juror number four,” Tristan answered.

“Damn it.”

Good God, this case was driving me insane.

“Who’s replacing juror number four?”

They just looked around at each other before dashing for their notes. How the hell could I win a case with these idiots?!

“Who’s replacing juror number four?” I yelled.

“Deborah Padovano,” Thea said, as she walked in holding two trays of coffee.

“You, get up and take the coffee,” I pointed at one of my associates, and then to her, “You, sit down and talk, since no one else here seems to know a goddamn thing.”

They switched, and she rushed to the seat, grabbing one file from the stack in front us, and handed it to me.

“Deborah Padovano, age 72, her husband died six years ago of a heart attack and she never remarried, nor has any kids,” she recited off the top of her head.

“Where does she work?”

“She owns a small bakery and I think she might be good for us— you— this case,” she corrected herself.

“Why?” Tristan asked her, leaning forward.

“Her husband lost their entire life savings on a scam, forcing them to go back to work. He had a heart attack six months later, and she now owns her own bakery with the money she gained from his life insurance. I’m not saying she killed the man, nor am I saying that she was sad to see him go. There are thousands of women all across the country that hate their husbands. All we need is one, right?”

“Stay seated,” I said to her. “Everyone else, I want to know every horrible thing that Mr. Nash has ever done in his life, and I want it before the end of the day.”

“You, come with me,” I called to her.

She hesitated for a moment, then followed me out of the conference room.

“What do you need, Mr. Black?”

She walked with space between us as we headed to my office.

Betty gave me a look, the wrinkles under her eyes standing out more as I held the door open for Thea.

“Hold my calls for an hour.”

“Yes sir,” she said, with a hint of attitude.

“Is something wrong, Betty?”

“No sir,” she replied, as she pretended to type away on her computer.

“Are you sure?” I pushed.

She sighed, pushing herself away from her desk and rising. She turned to face me. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, how long have I been working for you?”

“Eight years, give or take.”

“I understand that you’re busy being the Great Levi Black and all, but you would think for my years of dedication at the very least you could—”

Walking over to her desk, I pulled open the bottom drawer, reached all the way into the back of it and placed the pretty blue box on her desk.

I grinned, “Go on?”

“You’re a horrible young man,” she laughed as she lifted the lid and examined the contents of the box.

Her eyes lit up and a smile broke out across her face as she removed the tickets to her favorite performance of Swan Lake.

“You also have a dinner for two at Chateau La Rue, for anytime you want.”

“Levi—” she replied.

“Happy Birthday Betty.”

“Thank you.”

Nodding, I turned back to the other woman in my life. She stood at the window that overlooked all of Boston.

“Enjoying the view?”

“You just had to go and do something sweet,” she whispered, even though I saw the corners of her mouth turn up. I stepped behind her. “What do you need, Mr. Black?”

“You,” I casually replied, “but since that isn’t on the table right now, I’ll have to settle with this.” I handed her the case file.

She stepped away from me, and I reached for my guitar before taking a seat in my chair.

“I don’t understand.”

“Tell me how you would lead this case,” I replied, strumming the strings on the neck of my guitar.

“You’re kidding?”

“Figuratively of course. I like you, but I’m not willing to leave a woman’s future in your hands just yet. You kept your name on the board, which means you’re still the head of the pack. The deal is, if you do that, I’ll personally train you, and this is a training exercise. Now how would you run the case?”

“I would need to read—”

“You’ve been looking over the case for the last two months. If you still need to read anything, then you’re dreaming if you think you can be a lawyer.”

She glared, throwing the file onto my desk and crossed her arms.

“I wouldn’t waste a jury’s time trying to make Mrs. Nash look good, because it would be an insult to their intelligence. I would come right out and say it; Mrs. Nash hated her husband. Right off the bat, they might hate Mrs. Nash, but they will trust me because I’m the only one not blowing hot air.”

“Okay, what next?” I kicked my feet up, tightening the strings before I began playing again.

“Next, I would make it clear that Mrs. Nash was not the only person that hated him. When his daughter takes the stand, I would ask her how it felt to be cut off from the family fortune—”

“Guilty.”

“What?”

“I said ‘guilty’ because if that’s how you’re going to present this case, that’s what the jury will decide.”

“You said in class that the best way to get one suspect to walk is by giving the jury another suspect capable of the crime.”

“That’s true.”

“Then how come my verdict is ‘guilty’?”

“Because you’re throwing softballs,” I sighed, closing my eyes to listen to the music. “Your thought process is right, but your approach is weak. Mr. Nash’s daughter was cut off. Why? Go for the jugular.”

“Isn’t that badgering the witness?”

“Not if you do it right. You might hurt her feelings, others will think you’re a bitch, but who gives a damn? At the end of the day it’s the win that counts. So don’t hold back. Lead her into the questions. Let her hang herself. Approach me as if I were her on the stand.”

She nodded, and I placed the guitar down, and straightened my posture as I awaited her questions.

“Ms. Nash, was it true that you left your family home a year ago?”

“Yes, I wanted to see the world.”

“It wasn’t because your father was furious about your drug abuse?”

“No—”

“No, that he was furious? Or no that you don’t have a drug addiction?”

I wanted to grin. She was getting it.

“Yes, I had a drug problem, but I was getting better. My dad was helping me over my sickness.”

“If someone was helping you, why would you leave?”

Good question.

“I—”

“And if your father was helping you, why would you need to steal over two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry?”

“I never—”

“I will remind you that you are under oath, Ms. Nash, and that lying on the stand is a criminal offense. Did you know that your father called the police to report that the jewelry had been stolen, however he dropped charges when he realized that it was you?”

I stopped for a moment, in awe of her, and slightly turned on, before remembering something much more important at the moment.

“Wait, do we have proof of that?” I asked, breaking character.

“Not necessarily.”

“What does that mean?”

“Mr. Nash kept an inventory of all their jewelry. When I was looking through it, I saw that almost two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of it went missing the same time his daughter did. So I called the police department, stating that I was one of Mrs. Nash’s lawyers, and I asked if there was a report filed for the missing jewelry. They said that an initial call had been placed, but a couple hours later, Mr. Nash called them back and informed them that he had found it. However, according to his records, there was no further indication that it was ever found.”

“And you’re saying this now?” it didn’t solve the case, but it did make our case stronger.

“There was no paper trail—”

“It doesn’t matter. If we can use it to rattle the defense and the witness, it might as well be written in stone.”

“Oh.”

It was things like this that reminded me that she was still a student, and she had a lot to learn. But once she graduated, she was going to be a force to be reckoned with.

“Okay, start over again.” I said, listening to her explain how she would take down the witness.

I could watch her like this forever.