Page 43 of Bad Situation

I need one more eyeful of Jensen Montgomery before I go.

“I’m sorry. With the new evidence provided by the Assistant U.S. Attorney, there’s no way I can justify a dismissal.”

“Your Honor, I object on the basis of circumstantial evidence. An investigator cannot dig through rubble that contains the trash from well over thirty households and claim it belongs to my client.”

“Your objection has been noted. All of them have, Counselor. We will meet back here in one month to set a date for trial.” The judge bangs his gavel and the rest of us stand.

After the judge exits, Dean turns to me. “I need coffee. Hate Monday morning hearings.”

“I don’t have time for coffee.” Bree pushes past him to leave. “Now that my case is still a go, I have work to do.”

“I think I might take in a run at lunch,” I say, before she leaves. “Any good trails around here? Maybe a lake?”

Bree turns back to us. “A lake?”

Dean, who doesn’t look like he’s run since the academy, frowns. “Why would you run at lunch?”

I shrug. “It’s nice out. I used to run by Lake Michigan. It’d be nice to have some scenery. Just trying to get some ideas since I’m new to town.”

“White Rock is the closest but, dude, you should just grab a sandwich.” Dean pulls keys out of his pocket and turns for the back of the courtroom. “I’ll be sitting in the Starbucks drive-thru in case anyone needs me.”

When Dean is out of ear-shot, I ask, “So, White Rock is a good place for a run?”

Bree averts her eyes from mine and digs through her messenger bag. “I wouldn’t know. I Zumba.”

“I bet you do,” I mumble and watch her scroll through her phone, no doubt checking the location of the trackers.

When she looks back up to me, she gives me a tight smile. “See you back at the office.”

My smile is genuine because when she gets to her desk she’s going to have quite the surprise. “Yeah, I’ll be back after my meeting.”

Bree hustles out of court with no clue as to what’s waiting for her. I can’t wait to see what she does next.

When I turn back, Jen’s face is pale as she tucks her hair behind her ear. Her lead attorney is leaned into her talking nonstop as she gathers her bag and slides her short trench coat up her shoulders. Now I see what keeps her skirt from bursting into a pile of threads when she moves—the deep slit up the front of one thigh, showing me a hint of her leg. Half of her legal team moves out in front of her. The rest trail behind. An army surround her, but not enough yet to ward off the shit Bree Newman has drummed up, not to mention whoever else started this shit by trying to frame her from within her own company.

Her eyes meet mine but jump away just as quick, not letting anyone onto the fact she gives two shits about me.

Waiting a beat for some more people to file out, I follow and she’s waiting for the elevator, standing there, tapping the heel of her expensive shoe. I turn the other way and duck into the stairwell. Pulling out my cell, I text her.

Me: You okay?

It takes a few minutes, because I’m sure she’s still getting to her car. After what seems too long, she finally responds.

Jen: What do you think? You know what happened, you were there.

Me: It’s going to work out. I promise.

Jen: Yeah, you keep saying that.

Me: Look, I’m working on it, but I have to leave town for a few days.

She doesn’t answer but I see bubbles before they disappear. I wait in the stairwell. I don’t need to run into Bree or Dean in the parking lot.

Finally, she hits me back.

Jen: Minivacation?

Me: What’s a vacation?

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