Sapphire Attraction. Zuri Day
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and the Drakes knew her grandmother, Maggie Newman, but Ike couldn’t imagine he and Quinn ran in the same circles. Except in passing, it was very unlikely he’d see her again. That she’d agreed to plead no contest and to the pretrial was a relief. He imagined the proceedings would be brief, repayment for the car damage and some type of probation or community service.
He entered the lobby, waved at a couple people he knew and continued across the room and down a hall to where Matthew’s assistant sat at her desk.
“Hello, Mr. Drake. Go right in. Mr. Holden has already arrived.”
“What about the defendant and her attorney?”
“Not yet, but they’re on their way.”
Ike gave a nod and opened the door to the chambers of Matthew White, the judge who’d be hearing the case. He wasn’t there. Lance was, and on his cell phone. He waved a greeting, held up a finger and continued the call. Ike sat, pulled out his phone and began to check the emails he’d ignored all morning.
Lance ended the call. “Sorry about that, Ike. I’m in the rare position of having back-to-back meetings just about all day long.”
“Business is booming, huh?”
“You might say that. Not as exciting as your life, I’m sure.”
“My life is full, but whether or not it’s exciting depends on one’s definition of the word.”
“Hey, you were this year’s grand marshal. That’s heady stuff!”
Ike chuckled. “It was an honor, but let’s face it. Paradise Cove isn’t San Francisco or LA.”
Lance began to respond but stopped when the door opened. Both men turned as attorney Joey Wang stepped back from the door to allow Quinn to enter. Ike inwardly applauded his outer expression and the ability to look passive as his insides churned. Skirt too short. Legs too long. Top too tight. Shiny stilettos that could double as stilts. In a word? She looked inappropriately dressed and amazing. Ike felt Lance rise beside him. He stood, too.
“Ms. Taylor,” he said formally as they shook hands.
“Mr. Drake,” she responded, all sugar and spice. Except for her casual attire, she was the epitome of professionalism, a total opposite of the tornado who’d whirled into his office demanding he drop all charges and pull his lawsuit.
“A positive beginning,” Joey said while looking bemused. “Let’s hope this civility continues throughout the proceedings.”
“Civil is my middle name, Joey,” Ike responded. He looked at Quinn and continued, “I’ll do my part.”
The look she returned was unreadable, but there were millions to be made if he could bottle that smile.
A side door opened. The judge entered. That he wasn’t wearing the standard black robe indicated informality. The look on his face underscored the point that informal did not mean unimportant. He walked directly to the black leather chair behind the imposing oak desk between two flags and sat down.
After taking a moment to review copies of the motions that had been placed on the desk, he began.
“Good afternoon, Attorney Wang, Attorney Holden.” They responded. “Mr. Drake.”
“Judge White.”
His voice softened. “Ms. Taylor.”
“Afternoon, Judge,” was her softly spoken reply.
“We’re here on the matter involving Ike Drake Jr. and Kristin Quinn Taylor. I have reviewed the motions set forth, and if there are no further motions or addendums thereto, am ready to render a judgment.” He looked at the attorneys.
“None here, Judge,” Lance said.
Joey shook his head.
After reading another page of legal jargon regarding Quinn’s no-contest plea, Matthew gave his decision.
“As a result of the accident and the damage sustained to Mr. Drake’s vehicle, the defendant is ordered to make full restitution regarding all repairs and/or replacement as set forth in the motion by Mr. Holden and agreed to by Mr. Wang and his client. Furthermore, I believe excessive speed played a part in this accident. Ms. Taylor testified to the presence of a dog running into the street, which caused her to swerve and her vehicle to cross into the oncoming lane. The investigation yielded no proof as to the existence of said dog.”
“He thinks I’m lying?” Quinn blurted to her attorney. And then to the judge, “There was a dog!”
“Quinn,” her attorney warned.
“Ms. Taylor,” the judge called simultaneously. “Please refrain from further outbursts. As to your question to Attorney Wang, my statement is based not on whether or not you are lying, but whether or not evidence of the dog in question was uncovered. It was not.”
Quinn huffed and crossed her arms but remained quiet.
“Thankfully no one was seriously injured, which makes this case simpler, in that what happened calls for no jail time or probation. However, due to the defendant’s previous history of driving at excessive speeds, and the traffic violations that occurred as a result, I am going to impose a penalty in addition to the monetary obligations.”
Quinn’s indignant gasp cut through the judge’s droning voice. From the corner of his eye, Ike saw Joey place a hand on her arm. To calm or warn? Probably both. Quinn turned and caught the smirk on his face. She glared. Ike’s Cheshire grin widened into a satisfied smile. He sat back and watched Quinn try to control her mounting anger. What would be her punishment? Garbage detail? Flipping burgers? Emptying bedpans as a hospital aide? The thought of her being subjugated to most people’s normal almost made Ike laugh out loud. His day had been stressful. Now he felt relief.
Judge White continued.
“Usually, this type of consequence involves some form of community service—ground clearance, graffiti removal, recycling projects and the like. But it is my belief that despite the defendant’s propensity for having what my father calls a lead foot, Ms. Taylor is an intelligent individual with analytical and persuasive skills that could be put to better use in a complementary setting. Therefore, I am ordering Ms. Taylor to complete a four-week work assignment, each week consisting of forty hours, beginning Monday of next week.
“Furthermore, while not suspended, Ms. Taylor’s driving license will be on restricted status for thirty days, during which driving is permitted to and from work only.”
Lance raised a finger. “Judge, do you have an employer lined up and will this work be monitored? How can my client be assured that this penalty is carried out and completed?”
“Good question, Lance. That’s a problem I’ve easily solved by choosing Drake Realty Plus as the business for this detail.”
Ike sat up slowly. His body rigid. His mind disbelieving.
It was Quinn’s turn to smirk.
“I don’t understand,” Joey said.
“Neither do I,” Ike intoned.
“You will supervise the work detail, Mr. Drake,” Matthew continued. “What better way to make sure that the plaintiff’s call for justice has been satisfied than to appoint him as the defendant’s supervisor?”
“Wait a minute, Judge,” Ike said, tossing out all formality, barely maintaining respect. “That can’t happen. It makes no sense at all.”
“It can’t, and it won’t,” Quinn added, with a glance toward Ike, who now spoke quietly yet fervently in Lance’s ear.
“Quinn, quiet,” Joey admonished.
“I won’t work for him,” she hissed.
Matthew proved that he’d heard her by his swift, stern response. “You’ll do that or go to jail, young lady.”