Indicted (Bad Judgment #1) (2 page)

“He denies all of it,” David said. “He’s very angry. I’ve known Walker personally for a number of years. Frankly, I’m in shock. He’s been blindsided by these charges. So to answer your question, I think our tone is going to be outraged. But I need to be able to support the outrage,” he said, looking at the three of us. “That’s why you’re here tonight. I need similar cases, with CEOs that have been acquitted. We need to study their strategies from the start. And look back through some of our older files. We’ve handled several cases brought by the government. We at least have the advantage of experience. We need to use it.”

Our law firm often represented clients in Federal Court; we’d defended multiple executives against government and Security and Exchange Commission charges. But I’d never worked on anything even remotely like this, and even though I often believed I was brilliant, I was petrified of messing it up.

“Now, in case you need to brush up on your federal court procedure, like Norris, here,” David Proctor motioning to him while Norris looked annoyed, “here’s a quick primer.”

He wrote on a whiteboard:

Indictment

Arraignment

Discovery

Preliminary Hearing

Trial

“These are the basic steps. We’ll have to file motions along the way, of course, and there will be strict deadlines for those as well. What’s happened so far is that the government had information that Walker has committed crimes. They did a preliminary investigation. They found, or they think they found, evidence against him. That evidence was presented to a federal grand jury. The grand jury reviewed the evidence and decided to charge Walker.

“Walker will hear the charges against him tomorrow morning for the first time at the Indictment. I will enter my name as Counsel of Record. The judge will probably schedule the arraignment for later this week.” He paused for a second. “You with me?” he asked, and we all nodded, including a begrudging Norris.

“The next hearing, the Arraignment, is when Walker will enter his plea of guilty or not guilty. Then there’s the question as to whether he needs to be held until the trial, but we’ll argue against that, of course. We’ll aim for house arrest.

“After that is discovery. That’s the longest portion of pre-trial, when we request and review documents from the government, and the government does the same with us. There may or may not be a preliminary hearing — we can waive it if we want to — but we’ll get to that part later. And then there’s the trial, of course, unless we plead out.”

I wrote all of this down carefully in my notes, even though I’d studied federal procedure in law school and had gotten an A in the course. It took on more of an urgency in the current setting. I needed to do better than just a regular old A, unless it stood for “Acquittal,” which would be eminently acceptable.

“I want you to read the statement Walker gave me earlier, and also to look up other cases. Write a brief memo and get it to me tonight. We’ll regroup tomorrow, after the hearing,” David said.

I was writing some more notes and Alexa and Mandy were talking softly when a piercing, cold voice made me jump. “What are you waiting for?” Norris Phaland snapped at us. It was the first time he’d ever spoken to me. I immediately hoped it was the last. I grabbed my things and headed quickly to my office, happy to get away from him and his beady little eyes.

“This is exciting,” Mandy said as we headed down the hall. “A celebrity case!”

Alexa strode confidently next to her, beaming. “It’s the best thing
ever
,” Alexa said. “We needed a sexy client around here. Broden Walker’s totally hot. Finally. I was getting tired of all the sixty-year old bankers looking at my tits. Walker can look all he wants.”

I didn’t want to think about Alexa’s boobs — I couldn’t stand to think of them as tits — or Broden Walker looking at them, and I didn’t share the other girls’ enthusiasm. Federal grand juries did not indict CEOs for fun; the government must have some serious evidence to bring so many charges against Walker.

“I’m nervous,” I blurted. My stomach twisted painfully. “Blue Securities is a big deal. We can’t screw this up.”

Alexa snorted at me. “Don’t you ever relax?” she asked. “Broden Walker is a
hot
big deal. We’ll work our asses off to keep him out of jail. And then he’ll love us forever.”

“I’m just so excited that you used the words
ass, love,
and
Broden Walker
in the same sentence,” Mandy squealed, clapping her hands together in apparent glee. I’d never seen her like this before; she was flushed and giddy.

“Maybe we can read him
The Model Penal Code
at some point,” she said. They both whooped with laughter.

“Especially if he’s a bad boy,” Alexa said.

“Oooh, I hope he’s a bad boy!” Mandy said, with way too much enthusiasm.

When did everybody I work with become a slut?
I wondered.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I said. “What if he’s been so bad that we can’t keep him out of jail?” I asked, my brow furrowed. “What if he’s guilty? Or worse, what if he’s innocent and we can’t get him off?” I asked them, almost hysterically. “Then the case will be a monumental failure, followed by a lengthy prison sentence. That’s the opposite of sexy.”
And then David would probably fire all three of us, to boot.

They both looked at me for a beat, the exuberance fading. “Don’t be such a pessimist, Nicole,” Alexa said, finally. “We’re brilliant — remember? Or at least, I am. I’ll save Mr. Walker’s fine ass. It’ll be my pleasure.” She tossed her platinum bob dismissively and headed into her office.

“See ya at the
Keurig
,” she called, and my hands clenched into fists.

It must be easy to be unrealistically optimistic when you were gorgeous, rich, and smart — and had been since birth.
I sighed and rolled my eyes at Mandy, who laughed again, but this time it was in sympathy. Mandy had gone to school with Alexa. She had plenty of experience with how superior she could be.

“Don’t mind Alexa,” Mandy said, leaving me at my office door. “But if you can’t help it, look at the bright side: at least we’ll have eye candy. Eye candy makes everything better.”

H
ours later
, I’d had another diet soda and had produced what I believed was the single best memo of my life. I had the shakes from too much caffeine, too little sleep, and too much adrenaline. But I was thrilled. I’d worked on tax cases, mergers and acquisitions, commercial real estate, and contracts. They were a snooze compared to this. And although I’d worked on deals that were worth a lot of money, the clients were always corporations. They didn’t have a face attached to them — and certainly not a face like Walker’s.

I dove into the brief statement Walker had given to David Proctor, trying to get a sense of what my new client was like. He was the opposite of apologetic. He seemed completely fucking pissed that this was happening to him. I didn’t blame him — I mean, I didn’t blame him if he was actually innocent. Charges like this would ruin his career or at least his reputation. With cases like this, it was usually both. If he was convicted he would have to go to federal prison. He’d lose his job and any sort of separation package he’d been previously guaranteed; his company would flounder. It was a shame. He was young, just 35, and incredibly talented. He’d built Blue Securities from the ground up, piece by piece, until it was a multi-billion dollar corporation. And now he could lose everything.

Broden Walker had to come out swinging. If he was claiming innocence and outrage, he had to fully commit.
It was good that he was angry. He
was going to have to hold on to it, let it burn him, fuel him. Because this was going to be bad. And it
was just the beginning.

I
slept
on my floor for about two hours. I was so exhausted I hadn’t even bothered with my pajamas, opting instead to sleep in my suit. Early the next morning I was putting on some lipgloss, trying to make my exhausted self look somewhat human, when Alexa stuck her head in. She looked miraculously rested for having been here so late; she must have the best concealer that money could buy.

“Got a hot date?” she asked. I felt myself start to blush.

“I figured we’re going to have another meeting. I just want to look decent,” I said.

“Good luck with that,” she said, meanly, and clicked off down the hall.

My assistant, Tammy, stuck her head in right after she left. “You’d think her father would have had the decency to send her to Etiquette School,” she joked.

“It would have been considerate of the rest of us,” I said.

I stood and stared at my desk.
Alexa’s just jealous,
I told myself
.
That’s what my mother used to say to me when I was growing up, when I’d been snubbed and not invited to a sleepover and later, when none of the girls included me in their circles. She said it was because I was too pretty and too smart. That I intimidated the other girls. But I knew that it was because I was so serious that I was of absolutely no use to most girls, even to the girls who were also pretty and smart. Normal girls liked shopping, boys and movies. I liked all of those things, too, but I had a mother dying of cancer, a bereaved father, two little brothers, and a 4.0 GPA to look after. After my
mother died, all I cared about was trying to pay our rent on time, getting perfect grades, making sure my father went to work, and feeding my little brothers. In other words, I was Not Fun.

With Alexa, I don’t think she cared that I was Not Fun. I turned back to my puffy reflection in the mirror and finished with my lip gloss. She was prettier than me by a mile and I was sure she knew it; but I was almost certain that I was smarter than her. And the breaking news was, apparently it bothered her. A lot.

I slammed my lip gloss tube back together and smacked my lips. I was going to prove myself on this case. I was going to single-handedly save Broden Walker from federal prison and I was going to enjoy watching Alexa’s pretty face turn an ugly, envious green, maybe for the first time in her life.

I stalked around my office and tried to calm down, tried to plan my day even though my head was fuzzy from exhaustion. Tammy stuck her head back in. “Mandy’s here,” she said. “And she looks excited.”

Mandy rushed in. “They’re
here
,” she said. “And
he’s
with them. In David’s office.” She blurted the words out breathlessly, her cheeks red and blotchy. She looked tired and rumpled, too; at least I was in good company.

“Do we get to meet him?” I asked. My voice came out all squeaky and wrong.

“Not sure,” she said, and flopped down into one of the chairs across from my desk. She looked at me helplessly, her color still high. “I don’t even know what I’d say to him.”

“Well, he’s our client, so we’re gonna have to be cool,” I said, even though my own heartbeat had picked up and my hands had started to sweat at the prospect of seeing Walker in person.

He’s going to be formally charged with racketeering, conspiracy, and fraud,
I thought, forcing myself back down to earth.
That’s not hot.
Still, this case was the most exciting thing that had happened to me in a long time. Maybe after it was done, I’d look into moving from corporate law to something a little more racy, like divorce or entertainment. Or a maybe I just needed to get a super-hot new boyfriend and finally dump Mike the Spike.

Right now I just needed to calm down and act like a professional.

“Wanna do a walk-by?” I asked Mandy. Curiosity was going to get the better of me, no matter what. “Just to check?”

“Let’s go,” she said, standing up immediately and straightening her skirt.

“In the spirit of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, should we stop and get Alexa?” The words were still leaving my mouth as I saw Alexa herself sail past my door and down the hall, in the general direction of David Proctor’s office, without a backwards glance.

“Never mind. I think she got the memo,” I said, pulling Mandy after me. “Alexa,” I hissed, catching up to her. I kept my voice low so the whole office wouldn’t hear me plotting. “Going somewhere?”

“Oh, hey,” she said, distractedly looking back at us over her shoulder.

“Do you have a meeting?” I asked, my heart suddenly sinking. I wondered if David Proctor had already made his choice about which associate he wanted for the case. Usually there was one full-time associate assigned to each case to work with one partner. Other associates might be pulled in to work on document review or for research as needed, like the three of us were last night. But usually it was one partner, one associate. I looked over at Alexa and my stomach twisted.
Me,
I thought.
Let it be me!

“I
wish
I had a meeting,” she said, and I exhaled in relief as she slowed down until she was even with us. “I just want to see him! I can’t help it,” she said, quickly scanning the hallways. “I admit it. I’m having a stalker moment.”

“You’re not alone,” Mandy whispered. “We’re on the same mission.”

“Duh. Nicole was even putting on lip gloss earlier. And since there isn’t a Giant Nerd Convention in the conference room this morning, I knew
she’d
be down here,” Alexa sniffed.

I sighed. I didn’t exactly want to pal around with Alexa at the moment, but it was better than letting her out of my sight. So we stayed together, turning the corner and heading towards David’s office. This was considered the “better” part of the firm, where all of the partners worked. The light was better, the offices were more spacious, and we’d heard that there was liquor and wine in their snack room. I’d never been brave enough to come and investigate, even though sometimes at three o’clock in the morning, when I desperately needed to unwind and fall asleep for a few hours, I’d seriously thought about helping myself to a beer.

The real reason the partners had their own wing, I knew, was so the associates wouldn’t see them leaving at night. They often sent out huge work requests late in the afternoon. Then they left and went home and had dinner, while we slaved away. The partners liked to have memos on their desks first thing in the morning, before they called the clients. They didn’t care if we slept in our offices; it was considered a rite of passage. They’d done it, too. But now they liked to have their own wing and be secretive. They liked to pretend they worked as hard as we did.

I heard Mandy take a sharp breath in and it brought me back to the present. “Oh my god,” she whispered, and I followed her gaze down the hallway. Then, like I was having an out-of-body experience, I heard myself also take a deep, surprised breath. Because all of a sudden, I was looking at the glorious backside of all six-foot-two of Broden Walker, the strapping and embattled CEO of Blue Securities.

“Sweet baby Jesus in the manger,” Alexa said, under her breath. She took the words right out of my mouth.

He was
enormous
. Tall with thick, tousled black hair…you could tell from the back, even through his suit coat, that he was powerfully built. His suit was perfectly tailored, of course, hanging from his huge shoulders in such a way that it made me wonder…what did those shoulders look like without that jacket on?

And that’s when he turned around. Almost like he had a sensor and he knew that three salivating women were standing behind him. Once he was facing us, I saw how blue his eyes were, set off against the stark contours of his chiseled face. The glossy magazine pictures didn’t do him justice.

The three of us just stared at him.

“Ladies,” he said, and smiled. When he smiled, inappropriate parts of me clenched, and I’m sure it happened to Mandy and Alexa, too. I’d never seen someone as physically beautiful as he was in person; I wasn’t even sure he was human and I didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with him. I smiled back at him stupidly. I was suddenly relieved to be next to Alexa. I was sure that he would look at her more than me. And that was a good thing, because I had to be looking pretty fucking stupid at the moment.

After a long, awkward pause during which we stared at Walker and he smiled at us indulgently, David Proctor finally poked his head around our new client’s massive shoulder. “Ah. Hello girls,” David said. “This is Broden Walker. Walker, these are some of our top associates. Mandy, Nicole, and Alexa.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said and smiled again, and now I could see that behind his practiced smile he looked tired, strained.

Alexa beamed at him. Mandy coughed in response. “Um…hi,” I mumbled, feeling my face turn scarlet.

David came out and stood next to Walker. “These three ladies will be working on your case,” he said, and I mentally gave a fist pump.

“The
three
of us?” Alexa asked, taking a step away to the side, as if Mandy and I had the flu and distancing herself would protect her from us. And maybe make David take it back. Alexa didn’t seem like she enjoyed sharing. Not the spotlight, not her favorite fluorescent pink Post-it notes that she stole from the supply room and hoarded, and certainly not our supremely hot, national news-worthy client.

David nodded at her. “That’s right. We’re meeting here later this afternoon for a strategy session. Walker and I are headed to the courthouse now. So we’ll see you later.” Dismissed, we turned to leave. “Nicole, wait,” he said. “You’re coming with us. Get your laptop and meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” I called back over my shoulder. I was in shock; I walked in between Mandy and Alexa down the hall on wobbly legs. I had no idea one of us would be going to the hearing this morning. I hadn’t prepared anything, I hadn’t slept and I hadn’t showered.

Neither of them spoke until we were well out of earshot.

“Why are they taking
you
?” Alexa asked, looking at me uncomprehendingly. “Since there’s no way the associate’s going to speak at the hearing, at least they could have brought the good-looking one.” She tossed her hair haughtily as I looked down at my wrinkled suit in horror.

“I wrote the best memo. That’s why,” I whispered automatically, ignoring her taunt.
Ten minutes.
I had ten minutes to make myself look like a decent human being. I started practically running to my office. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

“Good luck!” Mandy called, encouragingly. If she meant good luck getting my appearance under control in less than ten minutes, I needed more than just an encouraging tone. I needed a miracle.
Ten minutes.
I had to change into the clean suit that I kept hanging in my office, slap some makeup on my face and brush my teeth. My long brown hair was going to be a disaster no matter what I did; I’d slept in the office two nights in a row now and hadn’t washed it, hadn’t showered.
Eeww.

And I was going to be with Walker. Tall, gorgeous Walker who definitely had clean hair and who I guessed smelled very, very good.

Just fucking shoot me.

“Need anything, Nicole?” asked Tammy calmly as I careened around the corner and raced past her to my office. She was in her early fifties, pretty, with a perpetual tan achieved with bronzer and wicked Boston bangs achieved with hair spray. She also had long gel nails that always were painted wild colors. I had no idea how she typed with them, or how she took her contacts out. But then, Tammy was much more talented than me. She knew everything. And she didn’t mind rolling her eyes at Alexa, which endeared her to me even more.

“I need help,” I cried, running into my office. “I’m going to be on TV. In ten minutes. With Broden Walker.”

“You need makeup,” she said, “and some hair spray. You have another suit, right?”

I nodded at her, mutely, willing myself not to cry.

“Well, go get it,” she said soothingly, and smiled at me. “I’ll bring in the hairspray.”

“And the bronzer,” I called.

“And the bronzer,” she said.

Four minutes later I’d put on the emergency suit I kept in my office: a navy sheath with a matching blazer and some navy heels. I put dry shampoo into my hair at my roots, willing it to work and make my hair look clean and styled, which it was not. I tossed my hair back and squinted at myself in the mirror. My hair looked okay. I put my glasses back on and looked again. My hair looked like I’d slept on an industrial-grade carpet two nights in a row and it hadn’t been washed in two days. My eyes filled with tears as Tammy bustled in; she saw me looking in the mirror and sighed.

“Put it up in a bun,” she said. “It always looks pretty like that.”

I tried to fix it while she came towards me with an enormous compact and a big poufy brush. “Bronzer,” she said. I took off my glasses and held up my face as she applied it. “Where’s your makeup bag?” she asked.

I pointed towards my desk without opening my eyes. I heard her grab it and rattle it around. Then she started putting eyeliner on me.

“Really?” I asked. It’s not that I didn’t ever wear makeup. But I didn’t usually wear a bunch of it, all at once, in the daytime.

“Is Broden Walker as hot as everybody says he is?” Tammy asked.

“Yup,” I said, limply.

“Then really. As in, I am really putting eyeliner on you, and eyeshadow, and mascara, and blush. And then I’m gonna put hairspray on you because you’re probably going to be on television. It’s for good luck.”

“Thank you,” I said, squinting through my eyes and looking at her. “You’re too good to me.”

She snorted. “If you were my daughter, I’d do your makeup every day. And I wouldn’t tolerate you sleeping on your office floor five nights a week.”

“It’s more like three,” I whined.

“It’s more like four, and we both know it. You need to break up with your boyfriend if you’d rather be at work then be home with him.”

“You’re starting to sound like my dad,” I said.

“Well, that’s because your dad’s been calling me, complaining,” Tammy said.

I opened my eyes and looked at her in horror. “Richie’s been calling you?” I gasped. “Tammy, I am
so
sorry…”