Destiny by chance: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel (27 page)

“Just testing,” he said.  “Good night.”

Destiny grinned to herself and dropped her cheek to the door.  “Good night,” she whispered to the locked door, knowing it was as close as they would get tonight.

The preliminary hearing started late.  It would be the first time she would have to face Winston since he showed up at Lisa’s, and considering what she’d been through, her attorney wasn’t sure it was a good idea.  The prosecutor, however, was thrilled.  He thought if Winston knew that his victims weren’t afraid of showing up in court, he would be intimidated.  Dr. Villarreal was on the fence about the whole appearance, ultimately leaving it up to her and not trying to persuade her one way or the other.  The civil case was to make a point, and to drive that point home.  Winston’s failed attempt to do harm to Destiny and remove her from the equation only strengthened the prosecutors and Destiny’s case against him.  The DA’s goal was still wanted to try him to the fullest extent of the law, and make an example of him.  Destiny was their star witness, but, not their only witness.

She looked around the room, noting two other women there who sat solemnly on their own.  One of them, Ginger, Rita’s former secretary, sat at the end of her row, closest to the wall.  Destiny stood and made her way toward her.  When Ginger saw her, she rose and nodded.  Destiny hugged her and squeezed her hand.  “You okay?” she asked.

Ginger nodded.

Immediately a man from her legal team came over and stood beside them.  “You two can’t be talking,” he said, taking Destiny by the arm and leading her away.  She looked over her shoulder and smiled at Ginger, who smiled faintly in return.

Destiny sat back down.  Suddenly, she felt someone standing next to her.

“Mind if I join you?”

Destiny looked up and smiled.  “What are you doing here?”

“There’s no way I’m going to let you do this on your own,” Bill said, smiling down at her.  She moved over as he sat beside her.  He looked around the courtroom before looking back at her and taking her hand.  “Hand holding allowed, remember,” he winked.

Destiny smiled as she looked forward.  When Winston entered the room, her smile faded.  She stared at him until his eyes met hers.  He smiled at her.  The gesture alone made her ill, but she held his stare, refusing to look away.  Destiny felt Bill squeeze her hand tighter, and it gave her confidence. 

The bailiff announced the judge as he entered, and the court was in session.  He listened to motions by the defense, which were all denied.  Both attorneys approached and haggled over legal details that no one else could hear.  Every so often Winston would look her way, but she averted her eyes.  She didn’t want to face him again.  It only disgusted her more. Destiny could hear the attorneys arguing, and the defense attorney pointed in her direction.  She felt her face get hot.  A moment later her attorney walked over to her and said that the judge wanted to talk to her.  He told her not to worry.  It was simply intimidation by the defense.  Was she okay with talking to him?  Destiny swallowed hard and then nodded.

The walk to the front of the room felt so lonely and long.  She had to walk right past Winston and his smug airs.  Destiny was determined not to look at him at all if she was able to avoid it.  She sat quietly until the bailiff asked her to raise her right hand.  She raised her hand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

The defense attorney asked her name and where she worked, then pointed to Ginger and asked if Destiny knew her.  Destiny said that she did.  He asked if she had spoken to Ginger since the case had begun, before today.  She said she hadn’t.  Then they asked her if she’d spoken to her today, asked her what they talked about and why she approached her.  When Destiny had answered all their questions, they reworded them, twisting them in a more divisive manner.  They accused her of approaching Ginger deliberately to discuss the case and sway her testimony.  They asked her the same question almost ten different ways.  Her attorney continued to object, stating that the questions had been asked and answered.  The more they repeated their questions, the more melodramatic the defense attorney behaved.  Finally, Winston’s lawyer stated he was through with the witness and allowed Destiny to return to her seat. 

Bill took her hand and squeezed.  “You did good,” he whispered from the side of his lips.

Destiny smiled.

“Hey, while you were up there, did you ask the judge about what we talked about last night?” he whispered again.  Destiny elbowed him in the side, fighting a smile.

The lawyers approached the bench again, argued some more, and then the judge called for a short recess.  Winston lowered his head as his attorney spoke into his ear, and he cast a glance Destiny’s direction.  Only, this time, he wasn’t smiling.  She held his gaze again, refusing to look away first.  He turned away quickly.  Destiny could tell he was rattled, by his demeanor.  She glanced to the end of her row, and Ginger was no longer there.  Destiny hoped she hadn’t been deterred by what had happened.  The defense’s tactics were meant not only to intimidate her but also any of the other witnesses in the room.

The judge clapped his gavel, and her attorney stood immediately and came to her.  He leaned over and patted her hand.  “You did great.” 

“How does it look right now?” she asked.

“His attorney requested a meeting, so we’ll see.”

“So, is this guy going to do hard time?” Bill asked, concerned for Destiny if he got out.

“Oh, yeah, that’s a no-brainer at this point,” the balding man assured him.  “It’s just a matter of how long, and that all depends on this little lady here and the other witnesses.”

“And the evidence?” Destiny asked.

“And the evidence,” he concurred.  “Look, don’t stress yourself out over a trial until we get past the grand jury.”

Destiny smiled slightly and nodded.

“Thank you,” Bill offered, somewhat relieved.  Then he turned to Destiny.  “How about lunch?”  His phone rang at that instant.  He looked at it and then quickly answered it.

“That would be nice,” she replied flatly, as Bill held up his hand to quiet her.  She turned to pick up her jacket and dropped her phone, which fell over the first bench and by the railing that separated the front of the court from the back.  The attorneys conferred at their tables, while Winston sat, his head hanging at the defense’s table.  Bill was still on his phone, so she stepped around him, moved to the railing and leaned over to pick up her phone.  Only, a hand picked it up before she arrived and held it out to her.  Destiny found herself looking into Winston’s eyes, just inches from hers.

“Hi, Destiny,” Winston cooed softly.

Destiny froze.  She felt her skin crawl at just the sound of his voice. 

“Miss me?” he whispered.

Destiny could feel her heart racing, and she couldn’t move.  Somehow she couldn’t hold his stare this time. 

A moment later Bill stepped up beside her and grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Winston.  He could feel her shaking.  Bill glared hatefully into Winston’s eyes, looked down and saw Destiny’s phone in the man’s hand. 

Destiny’s attorney turned and instantly saw that Winston was interacting with Destiny and Bill.  He turned to the bailiff, who was speaking to the judge.  “Bailiff!” he yelled, pointing toward Winston.

Winston held out the phone to Bill, a smug smile on his face.  As Bill reached for it, Winston leaned toward him and said, “She’s a sweet piece.  I hope you’re enjoying it as much as I did.”

Winston’s attorneys turned the moment Bill took the phone and realized from Bill’s face that something was about to happen.  They lunged to grab their client, but they weren’t fast enough.

Bill tried not to react to Winston’s taunting gaze, but it was too late.  All the anger and frustration of the past few months had culminated at this point, and all reason, all sanity left him.  He dropped his coat and in one swift motion punched Winston in his not-so-completely-healed nose, breaking it again.  He was about to jump over the barrier when her attorney, the bailiff and one of the other men in the audience grabbed his arms to prevent him from reaching over the banister and pummeling the man.

“Dammit!” Winston screamed, in apparent pain; his new $3000 suit ruined.  Not to mention he would need a reasonable repair of his nose, again, at county expense.  “I want him arrested.”

Destiny, who had fallen on the first bench in the melee, reached up and grabbed Bill’s arm.  She tried to get him to face her while everyone else had their hands on him, pulling him in other directions.  She looked at him perplexed.  “What are you doing?”

The bailiff held Bill back.  “What just happened?” he asked.

“He baited me,” Bill defended, as they walked Winston from the courtroom, his hands and face bloodied.

“What did he say?” he asked.

Bill took Destiny into his arms and exhaled loudly.  “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does, Son.  You just assaulted another man in front of witnesses.  In a courtroom.”

Destiny stood by Bill and took his hand.  “What does that mean?”

“It means, that they are going to arrest him.”

“Arrest him?”

Bill realized his stupidity.  He dropped his head and then handed his phone and his coat, his ring, his watch and everything in his pockets to Destiny.  He gave her his phone password.  “Call Dale and ask him to meet me at the jail.”  He looked down, ashamed.  “I’m sorry.  Please don’t tell Sydney,” he pleaded. 

Destiny nodded. 

A moment later, an officer walked over and began talking to her attorney, the bailiff, other witnesses, and finally, Bill. 

And then they arrested him.

Consuelo slid over in the California king bed and kissed her shoulder multiple times, the simple act bringing goose bumps to the surface of her soft skin.  His hand slid down her arm to her naked, shapely hip, her buttocks and back.  He usually traveled with her when she was in the States.  Sometimes even when she wasn’t, depending on how bored he was.  He always kept it exciting, surprising her when she least expected it.  Tonight, he ordered room service in, after which he massaged her with exotic oils, teasing her with every touch before he made love to her on the bedroom floor.

They were traveling in first class when they met, only because anything else, other than a private jet, was beneath her.  He had dark, penetrating eyes.  Eyes that stripped her bare, undressing her to her very soul, seeing her in a way she never felt anyone had seen her before.  They shared a glass of wine; they shared dreams and fantasies.  Five hours later, they shared a bed.  Both were married, so they kept their affair discreet.  It was a casual thing.  But to Justine, he was like a drug.  Consuelo was like the piece of candy or the cookie you were forbidden to eat when you were a child—the one you would sneak and hide away before slowly savoring it.  Sleeping with Uri was still good, but there were things you just couldn’t do with your husband. 

So, they saw each other when they could, mostly meeting in countries other than their own, to ensure utmost discretion.  Like her, his spouse was the one with all the money.  They both had prenups with lots of conditions and deadlines, the first of hers looming by their tenth anniversary—a child. She had just had her Implanon removed the day after she had arrived in Austin, knowing that she had to be pregnant by the end of the year.  Her arm was still sore.  But now, she had a dilemma; maybe she
wouldn’t
have to be pregnant again. 

Timing was everything, and she was quickly running out of it.  Once she’d met Sydney, she knew.  She was certain Uri was the father.  That’s why she had paid extra to have her personal attorney attend to the legal matters at an expedited rate.  Within hours of his arrival home, Bill had been served and notified of the blood test requirement.  Of course, the paperwork had to be manipulated only slightly, since Uri was technically not American. Not to mention he knew nothing about it.  If luck were on her side, she’d have his daughter, at least legally, before the deadline.  Justine had already laid the preliminary groundwork.  And if Uri believed the story she was weaving—and he
always
believed her stories—then she knew he’d fight like a badger for his daughter.  And he had the money and the inclination to do so.  Bill wouldn’t have a chance.

Justine was a noise person.  She didn’t watch television; she usually just liked having it on so that she didn’t feel so alone when she was alone.  Only it wasn’t Justine who turned it on today. Consuelo, Connie to his closest friends, and to her, was already up making Justine his famous nutritious breakfast smoothie.  She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bagel from a bag on the counter.  Justine cut her eyes at him.  Connie talked healthily but indulged in crap.  Justine had asked him not to bring junk food into any of the places where they stayed.  She had a hard time resisting it herself, so it irritated her when he ignored her wishes.

When she heard Bill’s name, she turned suddenly, walked back into the room, and hit rewind on the cable remote.  She dropped into the comfortable chair in shock, and when the report was over, a small smile crept onto her lips.  Justine couldn’t have been more pleased.  She picked up the phone and called her private investigator, who had been following Bill since she arrived in Austin.  Why hadn’t he called her with the news about which she had inquired?  Justine ignored his lame excuse until he explained that he was at the courthouse, where he had been digging up information as to why Bill and his mistress were there.  She instructed him to continue digging and then she dialed her attorney.  She crossed her long, tanned legs and that Cheshire Cat grin appeared, pasted across her smug face.  “I couldn’t have scripted this better myself.”