Page 7 of Touch In The Dark

“I would like to ask for a short recess of fifteen minutes while Your Honor reviews this contract,” I said firmly.

As Judge Matthews flipped through the pages of the contract, I couldn’t help but feel hopeful that justice would be served in our favor. “I will grant a fifteen-minute recess. All parties will return at 1:20 p.m.”

The courtroom was filled with anticipation as we all stood as Judge Matthews exited through the door behind the bench, holding the lease contract firmly in his hand. Brett Masters, his team, and Scott Turner headed out of the courtroom while Roland and I stayed put. I didn’t see any reason to leave since I used a highlighter on the paragraphs that spelled out everything I said in my opening statement.

After fifteen minutes of tense waiting, the judge returned to the bench. His gavel pounded loudly, a sharp crack echoing through the courtroom, signaling that the verdict was about to be delivered. I held my breath as he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“After thoroughly examining the entire contract, I am inclined to rule in favor of the plaintiff,” he declared, his eyes darting between me and Scott Turner’s lawyers. “However, out of fairness and respect for due process, Mr. Masters, I will hear your counter argument.”

Brett stood confidently and walked over to the podium, his papers rustling as he shuffled them into a neat stack. “Your Honor,” he began in a smooth voice, “if it pleases the court, I would like to present crucial documentation that proves the lease contract presented by the plaintiff is null and void.”

“I object, Your Honor,” I interjected, my voice rising with frustration. “We were never made aware of any additional documentation that would nullify this lease contract.”

Brett raised an eyebrow at me before calmly responding, “We only became aware of this new evidence yesterday.”

Judge Matthews leaned back in his chair, his gaze stern and unwavering. “I will allow it,” he said firmly. “But be warned, Mr. Masters. You are skating on thin ice.”

Brett took a deep breath before continuing with his presentation. “According to this recent evidence, the person who signed the contract never had authorization to do so. Furthermore, the notary who stamped their seal on the document had an expired commission two months prior to signing.”

I was stunned. Was he serious? “If anything, Your Honor, this evidence only works against Turner Investments. It is clear that their legal team failed to catch this error when the contract was initially signed,” I pointed out. “In fact, I believe this adds another layer of deceit to their actions.”

Judge Matthews nodded in agreement. “I concur with the plaintiff’s statement,” he said sternly, turning to address Brett. “My ruling stands in favor of the plaintiff and I am ordering you, Mr. Masters, to draw up an amendment to the original contract that states this mistake. It must be signed by both parties. Perhaps this time, you will ensure that a qualified employee signs it and a notary with a valid commission verifies it.”

With a slight pause, Judge Matthews directed his attention toward our requested damages. His furrowed brow and intense stare showed deep contemplation. Finally, he lifted his head and locked eyes with me as he spoke. “Regarding the fines requested for damages,” his voice was firm yet fair, “I believe the amount is more than adequate, with one additional provision.” My heart raced as I waited for him to continue.

“Along with the $1.5 million in punitive damages,” Judge Matthews declared, “Turner Investment will also cover all court costs and attorney’s fees Mr. Jackson has incurred.”

A sense of relief and victory washed over me as I realized we had won the case. This was the largest punitive damages case I had ever won and it could potentially launch my career to new heights. I could already envision my name on the wall alongside Black, Worth, and Shell.

As the judge picked up his gavel and adjourned the case, we all rose from our seats. I had to smile as I watched him make his way through the door behind the bench. Today was a good day.

~6~

River

As I savored the smooth, smoky taste of my Scotch, my mind couldn’t help but race with thoughts of my recent conversation with Davian. My brother had somehow managed to escape from prison, and I was at a loss as to who could have aided him. Maybe I had underestimated my mother and her extensive network of connections.

The uncertainty and worry were driving me to madness. I had to pull myself together. In just two short hours, I would be meeting a woman in complete darkness, someone who could potentially be my soulmate. It was almost comical to think that my appearance or attire would have any impact on her, since she would never even see what I was wearing. But perhaps I could impress her with a subtle hint of my cologne.

With a determined push off the couch, I made my way to the bedroom for a quick shower and to get ready for the blind dating game. The warm water cascaded over me, washing away some of my nerves and anxieties.

After drying off and wrapping a towel around my waist, I carefully ran my razor over my stubbled face. I took a deep breath and splashed on my favorite cologne. The warm, musky scent enveloped me like a comforting embrace. It was my secret weapon, always making me feel confident and alluring. If only the woman I was about to meet could see me now.

Happy with my appearance, I set out in search of something suitable to wear. Opting for comfort rather than style, I selected a pair of dark slacks and paired it with a deep burgundy dress shirt. As I slipped into my outfit, I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of nervous excitement about what the night held in store for me. I also couldn’t help but admire my reflection in the mirror; I had to admit, I looked damn good. I wasn’t the most handsome man on earth, but I knew how to make an impression. And I certainly had my share of beautiful women who had graced my bed. But tonight, that would all change.

With one last flick of my comb through my styled hair, I grabbed my black sports coat and headed out the door. I wasn’t sure what the process would be once I got to the event, so I wanted to make sure I got there in plenty of time.

As I settled into the driver’s seat of my car, I punched the address into my GPS and waited for the directions to appear on the screen. It was always a relief when technology could lead the way, even though I thought I knew Chicago like the back of my hand. This part of town, near the Fulton River District on the north side, was not one that I frequented often. But tonight, it held the promise of new encounters and exciting possibilities.

When I pulled up to the building, there was nothing special about it. Matter of fact, I was beginning to think entering this dating game might not have been such a good idea. There had to be more to it, so I drove around the block to the other side. Immediately, I could see I wasn’t the only partaker in this game. There were five rows with at least fifteen spaces filled in the parking area. By no means was I late for the event. It appeared I wasn’t the only one anxious about the game.

I let out a relieved sigh as I finally found a spot to park my car at the far end of the crowded parking area. As I turned off the engine and stepped out, I wondered how many women had been selected to participate in this game. The anticipation and excitement fluttered in my chest as I remembered that if I didn’t like the woman they paired me with, there was always the possibility of being matched with someone else.

As I walked toward the building, my nerves began to build up. A burly man with wide shoulders and a linebacker’s build stood guard at the entrance, flanked by a small table covered in colorful wristbands.

With a smile, I approached him and said, “I’m here for the dating game.”

He pulled out his cell phone and asked for my name. After typing it into his keyboard with his large fingers, he looked up at me. “ID, please.”

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