Page 90 of Cupcake of the Month
He offered her a wan smile and covered her hand with his. “Thanks for last night.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I could fill your belly and get you dressed.”
“For that. And for…being there.”
She filled in his pause. For pretending she didn’t see his tears. For nestling together and ignoring the heartache that came from being with him.
Nothing had changed between them, anyway.
He maintained eye contact for a couple more seconds as if he wanted to say more. She wanted him to say more. She wanted him to unbottle whatever he had controlled within himself last night. But then he gave her hand a quick squeeze and got out of the car.
“Good luck at the trial,” he said, then sped into the terminal.
She left the airport, wishing she didn’t have to leave him.
Once in her room, she brewed some coffee, letting the comforting aroma permeate the small space and surround herself with something familiar. Drinking it wasn’t an option, not with her nervous stomach. Maybe she should change her shirt. With her coloring, she should be wearing darker tones. It would be more professional. But maybe also that she was trying too hard.
This indecisiveness was going to make her crazy before the trial even started. And wouldn’t that be a delightful thing for the judge and jury to see, while she was plastered on a large TV and visible to everyone.
She checked her phone to see if Josh had texted with an update. Nothing yet. She took off her pale pink shirt and replaced it with one that was deep purple. And too low cut. Thank goodness for being an obsessive packer. She shimmied out of that one and settled on a blue button down, then checked her computer and the wi-fi and her notes andoy veythis waiting was awful.
Larry Weinscheck texted her emojis of cake and champagne. She’d take that as a good sign.
When she logged in, she was surprised to see a side view of the lawyers standing in a small room with a judge, who was leaning against a large desk. Not a courtroom. A ton of books lined the walls and the front of two chairs made it into her view. Someone sat in one of the chairs. Male, based on the cut of the pants and the style of the large dress shoes.
“Jordan,” Larry said. “Good morning. We’re in Judge Ford’s chambers.”
“Has the child been found?” the judge asked. Her body was covered with the traditional black robe, but her glasses were a wild red.
Jordan pushed her own glasses up on her nose. “No, ma’am.Not yet.”
“I hope to hear good news about it by the end of the day.” The confidence in the judge’s tone made it seem like an order, and one Jordan was willing to follow. “I have you in my chambers because of the information you sent Mr. Weinscheck last night. It’s a picture of…who is it, Ms. Bippen?”
“Her name’s Mandie Rosynsky.” The other woman bit out the words.
“And who is she to you?”
“My cousin.”
Jordan’s heartrate sped up and she drew in a quick gasp. Micah had dated Sherry Bippen’s cousin in college? The girlfriend that sued him?
“And Roger.” Judge Ford addressed the body attached to the legs that Jordan could see. He’d been the most vocal of Jordan’s detractors.
“Yes. Ma’am.”
“Mandie is your…” Judge Ford trailed off.
He leaned forward, giving Jordan a view of his face. “Sister.”
So Roger and Sherry Bippen were cousins. Interesting.
“According to Ms. Shoenover, Mandie sued her brothers over ten years ago because of a computer application?”
“That’s what my brothers told me, ma’am,” Jordan answered.
“And what Larry confirmed this morning.” Judge Ford tapped a folder next to her.
“That has no bearing on what’s happening now, Your Honor,” Ms. Bippen said. “We still contend that Jordan Shoenover had promised confidentiality, but worked with the owner of Niles Tech to weed out employees who didn’t agree with Mr. Niles’s opinions.”
