and she’ll be with me then.”
“Okay, but what if the landlord finds out you have a cat in the building? I would imagine that would be against the rules in your lease.”
“You forget I kept his ex-wife from cleaning him out a few years ago. So the guy owes me big time. I could keep a family of ring-tailed lemurs in here and he wouldn’t say a word.”
“Right, I forgot you were his lawyer. Hey, I just thought of something… the cat you named Socks Fifth Avenue actually gets to live on Fifth Avenue for a while.”
“Yep. Monday to Friday anyway.”
“Uh, one more thing. I have one obvious logistical question regarding something unpleasant as it applies to the care and feeding of cats. Specifically the care part.”
“Litter box goes in my storage closet.”
Shelley’s face tightened. “And who—”
“Don’t worry, Shelley, you don’t have to scoop the litter box. I’ve got one of those battery powered gadgets that scoops every time she uses it. It’s got some sensor so it knows when she leaves. All I have to do is refill the litter and occasionally empty the thing.”
“Damn, cats have it better than us.”
“In some ways. But a lot of cats aren’t so lucky and need a home. You should get one.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. It would be nice to have someone to come home to.”
“Anyway, the automatic litter box is with her stuff in the suitcase.”
“Socks has her own suitcase?”
“Hey, she has her needs. Litter box, litter, food, dishes, toys, bed, it’s all in there. Luckily it was all in the part of the house that wasn’t damaged, so I went back in after they put the fire out and got her supplies. A cat can’t just leave home with the fur on her back, you know. What would the other cats think?”
“So, no car seat? Video games?”
“Stop it. Anyway, I’ve got to be in court in an hour in front of that new judge.”
“That poor witness. Facing you in a bad mood.”
“I can take out my frustrations. Anyway, if you can help me get Socks set up I’d appreciate it.”
Tish and Shelley headed into her office and closed the door, then let Socks out of the carrier. The cat slowly stepped out onto the plush red carpet and immediately began to explore her new surroundings.
Shelley rolled her dark eyes as she sat on the edge of the desk.
“What?” asked Tish.
“It just hit me. If anyone finds out about this, we’re going to be known as the cat lady law firm.”
“Two single women in their mid-thirties who share an office with a cat. Not exactly a stretch.”
“Speak for yourself, Tish.”
*
Spencer Capshaw and his partner Ariel Nix headed toward the courtroom on a reconnaissance mission.
The two thirty-five year old lawyers needed to check out the new judge in town, as they had an upcoming case on her docket. If a judge was one who didn’t play by the rules, or was a major pain, they needed to know in advance.
Spencer held the door for Ariel as they entered the crowded courtroom and took seats in the last row, already filled with a bunch of lawyers who’d obviously had the same idea. He tried to get comfortable on the ancient, hard wooden bench that was worse than a church pew, stretching out his lean five-foot-ten frame. “So, what did you dig up on this judge from your friends?”
“Not much you’re going to like, Spence. The term ballbuster did come up a lot.”
“So she’s really tough on the guys, huh?”
“That comment came from the women.”
He ran his hands through his dark, tousled hair. “Wonderful.”
“Oh, stop it. You always manage to charm even the crustiest female judge with that boy-next-door persona you’ve got going. You flash those big olive green eyes, give them the innocent look and it’s game over.” The tall, slender brunette crossed her legs and rocked a four inch red heel on her toe as she leaned back. Her hazel eyes focused on the front of the courtroom.
“Oh, like you don’t flirt with men on the jury.”
“I plead the fifth on the grounds you may be right. And that was just one juror.” He gave her a disbelieving look. “Okay, maybe two or three.”
“I think you’ve simply lost count.”
“All rise!” The bailiff’s voice echoed through the ancient courtroom. “Court is now in session. The honorable Rebecca Winston presiding.”
Conversation stopped as the judge entered, took her seat on the bench and looked at some paperwork through gold-rimmed bifocals as everyone in the room sat down. Judge Winston looked to be in her mid-forties, a slim, dark brunette with straight hair that curled under her chin.
A tall blonde attorney approached the bench. Spencer sat up straight as he locked in on her. Hair up, horn-rimmed glasses, ultra conservative blue suit with a knee-length skirt, pale silk blouse buttoned up to her neck. “Who is that?”
Ariel patted his hand. “Down, boy.”
Spencer figured what Ariel had heard about the judge was exaggerated, especially since the lawyers for both sides were women and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Judge Winston appeared to be tough but fair, and ran a tight ship. By the book, followed the law and kept things moving. If she had any political leanings, they weren’t evident. His kind of judge. All he ever wanted was a fair trial from someone who didn’t have an agenda.
But what captured his attention was the performance of the blonde attorney as she cross-examined the current witness. The middle-aged man on the stand squirmed in his seat and kept mopping his brow, as her laser-sharp questions kept his flop sweat on a steady flow. Spencer leaned over and whispered in Ariel’s ear. “Damn, she’s amazing. This is like the legal version of waterboarding.”
“The witness looks like he’s getting a prostate exam with a yardstick.”
He crossed his legs as his face tightened. “Thank you for that lovely mental picture.”
The attorney continued to hammer the witness, barely giving him time to finish his answer before hitting him with another question. The man stammered as he started to give a long, ridiculous answer to her question.
Then she turned to the jury, her back to the judge, pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, took off her glasses to clean them and gave the jury a world class eye roll.
They all smiled.
She finished cleaning her glasses as she turned back to the witness.
