Page 34 of From the Courtroom to the Court
"It's okay," Emily tells her. "I didn't expect it, but at least you've been honest."
"I really am sorry," Leah repeats anxiously. "I'm not like this."
Emily makes a gesture with her hand, one that feigns unconcern.
"You could have continued with this and you decided to stop because you're not single. That's good, Leah."
Now it's the lawyer's turn to run away. She picks up her bag—forgotten on the floor—and walks to the door.
"See you," Emily forces a smile and leaves with her heart beating slowly, disappointed.
Chapter 17
"Fuck," Mia mutters when she empties a tube of tennis balls into the cart so carelessly that half of them end up scattered across the court floor again.
Leah, sitting on the bench where she just finished a training session with Alison Young, looks up and fixes her concerned gaze on her friend. She knows Mia is nervous about Aaron's situation and today's appointment at Emma's office, which probably has her more frantic, but Leah has been so absorbed all day, unable to get what happened yesterday with Emily in her office out of her head, that she hasn't asked.
She pinches the bridge of her nose while Mia continues collecting the balls, and the image of Emily before leaving her office hits her hard. Her chest tightens and she feels dirty, both toward Emily and Stella, but she feels worse about herself since last night when she realized she fears losing Emily more than losing Stella.
She decides now isn't the time to think about her problems—which she definitely needs to solve—and stands up to approach Mia.
"Hey," she says after grabbing another tube to help her. "Want me to go with you to the office? Frank could cover my next class, his got canceled."
"No, don't worry," Mia responds with a grateful smile, "you're already doing too much for me. Besides, I just need to bring her all the documentation, I don't think she'll tell me anything important today. You know what's the only thing that bothers me about them handling the case?" she says emptying the last tube.
"What?" Leah asks, furrowing her brow.
"That that prissy Emma will know I have a criminal record. She already considers me trash that doesn't measure up to the soles of her shoes just because I work picking up balls, which, by the way, I love," she says with a very wide smile, "but now she'll see me as an insect."
"You're not an insect, Mia," Leah says angrily.
"I know that. I'm just saying that's how she'll see me."
Leah narrows her eyes and puts the tube next to the cart.
"Since when do you care what others think about you?" she asks with an amused smile.
"I don't care what that snob thinks, and now move, I'm in a hurry," Mia says, pushing the cart toward Leah as if trying to run her over.
The tennis player laughs and steps aside as she watches her friend move away along the side of the court, wondering if the Harris surname has some kind of spell that has managed to bewitch both her and Mia.
Mia exits the elevator to the floor where Emma is waiting, sliding the USB drive she carries in her pocket between her fingers. She feels nervous and expectant as she follows an intern who, as she's been told, is taking her to the meeting room where Emma is already waiting.
"It's here," the young woman says, opening the door to let her in and saying goodbye before closing it.
Before she knows it, Mia finds herself inside a small office whose back wall is a large window that illuminates the entire room with natural light. In the center sits a round mahogany table with four padded chairs that Mia is certain are more comfortable than her couch, and in one of them, Emma finishes jotting something down in a small notebook.
"Hi," Mia says, standing like a statue in front of the table.
Emma still takes a few seconds to look up and answer. She doesn't do it out of rudeness, but because she fears forgetting what she's thinking if she doesn't write it down, but when she finally looks up, she loses her breath at the sight of Mia.
Her pulse races and Emma can't understand why this ball collector, dressed in simple cargo pants and a sleeveless shirt of the most casual kind, seems like the sexiest and most attractive woman she's ever seen. She unconsciously moistens her lips and feels a pang of envy thinking about how easy mornings must be for Mia. Getting up, taking a shower, brushing her hair a bit and heading out because her attractiveness is so natural that she needs nothing more. She, however, spends an hour straightening her hair, applying makeup until she considers herself perfect, then choosing an immaculate suit that stylizes her figure and matches elegant high heels that destroy her feet as the hours pass.
"How are you, Mia?" she finally says, standing up to shake her hand cordially as she does with every client.
Mia finds the gesture surprising but takes a couple of steps toward her and returns the greeting. As soon as their hands press together, both feel the current shoot through their bodies like lightning, and they let go as quickly as they joined.
"Please, sit down," Emma asks, pointing to the chair on her left. "Did you bring the documentation?"
