Legal Artistry (29 page)

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Authors: Andrew Grey

BOOK: Legal Artistry
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"Thank you, gentlemen, you will both be notified when I have rendered my decision. This court is adjourned.” The gavel banged for the final time, and the judge left the court. To Dieter's surprise, Angus and Gerald shook hands before gathering their papers. Dieter joined Gerald and Brian as they exited the courtroom.

"I need to go back to the office,” Gerald explained. “Harold asked me to tell him how it went, and he asked you to stop by as well if you could."

"I'll see you there,” Brian said as he headed for the exit.

"Are you okay?” Gerald asked.

Dieter smiled at his lover. “I was going to ask you the same thing."

Gerald shook his head and sighed. “We're quite a pair."

"Yes, we are. Now let's go see what Harold wants and then maybe we can go home.” Dieter didn't really want to go back to Gerald's office, and he wasn't in much of a mood to talk to anyone. All he really wanted was to go home... and maybe up to bed with his lover.

They rode the short distance to Gerald's office in near silence, but Dieter rested his hand on Gerald's leg the entire time. “I thought your summation was brilliant,” Dieter commented softly, as they turned into the parking garage at Gerald's office.

"I was afraid I hadn't said enough.” Gerald sounded tired.

"I think this was one of those times when less is more. You made your point, so don't worry about it and don't second-guess yourself. It's over, and now we have to wait for the judge. This is a man who's seen multiple trials and isn't going to be swayed by theatrics or a summation. He's going to weigh the facts and the law carefully."

"How do you know that?” Gerald asked, turning off the engine.

"For someone who prides himself on reading people, didn't you take the time to read the judge? He seemed thoughtful and deliberate. What more could we ask for?” Dieter said before opening his door, getting out of the car, and following Gerald to the elevators. After pressing the button, Dieter waited for the doors to slide open. Then he and Gerald stepped inside.

"What if we lose? And what if it's my fault?” Gerald looked kind of miserable.

"If we lose, it'll be because we didn't have a strong enough case. Not because of anything you did. There wouldn't have been a case at all if it weren't for you. And I wouldn't have gotten the paintings I did, especially the portrait of Gram. So stop beating yourself up and worrying. If we lose, we lose. I'll still love you just as much.” Dieter stepped closer to Gerald, tugging him into a kiss.

The doors slid open, but Dieter ignored them, kissing Gerald harder until they closed again. It wasn't until he realized the car wasn't moving that he broke the kiss and pressed the door open button. Half the ladies from Gerald's office were waiting for them and watching. Gerald looked as though he was going to try to explain, but Dieter just took his hand, leading him into the office before Gerald could open his mouth.

"What was that?” Gerald asked, as they approached Harold's office.

"I'm the client, and they don't deserve an explanation."

Gerald stopped moving, and Dieter turned around questioningly. “When did you get all forceful?” Gerald leaned closer. “I really like it."

"Oh, there you are,” Harold said from behind them, and Gerald stepped away, maintaining a reasonable distance. “Come into my office,” Harold added. Gerald led him through the hallway to Harold's large corner office, closing the door behind them. “Brian tells me you were, to use his words, amazing in court today.” Dieter could feel Gerald relax slightly next to him. “But I want to caution both of you not to get your hopes up. National sovereignty is a huge issue that many courts have refused to take on, but if any case has a chance, it's this one."

"Mr. Prince, I wanted to thank you for everything you and the firm have done, and I wanted to tell both you and Gerald that if we lose, I'm not going to appeal. I know if we win, the other side will, but I've given this a lot of thought, and I've done what's right by Gram and even by Anna and Joseph. I don't think dragging this out needlessly if we lose is in anyone's best interest.” Dieter turned to Gerald. “I hope you aren't angry, but if we lose, I want us to be able to move on with our lives."

"I want that too,” Gerald told him, touching Dieter's arm.

"Thank you for telling us, Dieter. I appreciate a client who is up front with his wishes. And now, Gerald, go home. We'll see you in the morning.” Harold walked behind his desk. Dieter stood up and left the office with Gerald right behind him.

"Let's go before he changes his mind,” Dieter said, already tugging Gerald toward the elevators.

"I need to get some things from my office. You wait out front and I'll be right there.” Gerald touched his cheek and then hurried away. Dieter walked to the reception area and sat down. Gerald joined him about ten minutes later.

Gerald drove them home, and thankfully, didn't get a ticket. Once they were in the house, he led Dieter to the living room. Dieter had been expecting the bedroom, and couldn't keep the surprise off his face. “There's something I want to speak to you about, and I wanted to tell you first. If we win in court, it will most certainly be appealed, and I plan to turn the case over to Brian.” Dieter opened his mouth to object, but Gerald calmed him with a gentle touch on his arm. “Today when I was in court, all I could think about was you and what winning or losing would mean to you. The thing is, I couldn't be objective, and that's not good.” Gerald took Dieter's hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “I'd rather be your boyfriend than your lawyer. You mean so much more than any case.” Gerald leaned forward and kissed him. “When we first met, I thought I could do both, but I can't, and it's you I want more than anything else. Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay.” Dieter threw his arms around Gerald's neck. “Whatever you want is okay as long as it involves you, me, and preferably a bed. I love you more than life itself, and I want you to be happy."

"Then I am happy because you make me happy."

"How about you show me just how happy you are.” Dieter slipped his hand beneath Gerald's shirt, caressing his skin.

Dieter giggled as Gerald ticked his stomach before pressing him back against the cushions. “Oh, I'll show you how happy I am and how happy I'm going to make you,” Gerald teased before lifting Dieter's shirt and licking across a nipple. “I love you so much, sweetheart."

"I love you too,” Dieter croaked as Gerald licked his nipple again. “But could you show me upstairs in bed?"

"Cute, sweet, and forceful—I'm a lucky man,” Gerald said.

"Yes, you are.” Dieter giggled as fingers slid along his ribs. Once the tickling stopped, Dieter locked his arms around Gerald's neck. “Now take me to bed, because until the judge issues his ruling, I'm still the client.” Dieter heard Gerald laugh, and then he was practically carried up the stairs.

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Epilogue

A fire crackled in the fireplace and Christmas carols rang through the house as Gerald climbed to the top of the ladder. “Why did you have to get the biggest tree on the lot?” Gerald groused, with a smile lurking just below the surface.

"What's the use of having high ceilings if you can't have a tall Christmas tree?” Dieter rolled his eyes, conveying the “duh” at the end of his comment. “Besides, you're almost done, and the tree looks amazing.” Dieter broke into a huge smile when he stepped back. “The gingerbread men look great with all the other ornaments."

Gerald placed the final trimmings in his hand before climbing down the ladder. Folding it up, Gerald set it aside and stood next to Dieter. “It does look very nice, except it's making me hungry.” He and Dieter had spent one Saturday afternoon making and decorating non-edible gingerbread men. Where Dieter found the recipe Gerald had been afraid to ask—it was hard to imagine making inedible cookies on purpose—but they were colorful and really cute, especially the ones Dieter had done from the back, their little gingerbread butts mooning from the tree. “I just have one question. What would your Gram say?” Gerald looked at the portrait hanging above the fireplace.

Dieter laughed and slipped an arm around his waist. “I have no idea what Gram would say about anything. But I'd like to think she'd want me to be happy.” Dieter leaned in for a kiss. “I was wondering. We've got almost everything ready for the party tomorrow night—after dinner, could we go dancing?"

"Whatever you want,” Gerald answered, pulling Dieter in for a deeper kiss that tasted sweet, and Dieter moaned softly, putting his arms around Gerald's neck as the kiss continued, the tingles Gerald got reaching to his toes. Then the kiss softened, and Dieter rested his head on his lover's shoulder, and Gerald lightly stroked his soft hair, sighing contentedly.

"God, I don't want to move, but I need to finish cleaning up my mess in the kitchen.” Dieter held him tighter, and Gerald smiled, happy to be with his lover and looking forward to the rest of his three-day weekend. Dancing tonight, their Christmas party tomorrow, life was good.

"I should put the ladder away and clean up in here."

Dieter lifted his head. “Why? You're not done yet.” Dieter slipped out of his arms, walking into the kitchen, returning with a stack of candy-cane boxes. “These need to go on the tree too."

"All of them?"

"I only bought twelve boxes,” Dieter said with a chuckle as he handed then to Gerald. “They go with the candy theme, and some of the people I invited have children. It won't take long, and by the time you're done, I'll be finished, and I'll help you clean everything up.” Dieter gave him another kiss, and then Gerald watched him bound away. Gerald loved Dieter's energy and excitement. He threw himself wholeheartedly into everything they did together. Setting down the stack of candy canes, Gerald unfolded the ladder before opening the first box and beginning to place them on the tree.

Candy canes in place and the boxes flattened, Gerald folded up the ladder for the final time before carrying it to the basement. “Gerald,” he heard Dieter's voice calling from the top of the stairs. “It's your office."

Gerald hung the ladder on its hooks before hurrying back up the stairs, and Dieter handed him the phone. “This is Gerald."

"It's Brian. Harold just left my office and asked me to call and see if you could come into the office. He asked if Dieter could come as well. He said it affects him too."

"Then Judge Ellis has issued his decision.” Gerald's heart began to race with excitement and hope.

"It looks that way,” Brian responded.

"How did Harold seem?” Gerald asked almost afraid of the answer.

"Somber,” was Brian's one-word answer, and Gerald knew what that meant. Hanging up the phone, he looked at his lover and saw the smile that had lit his face all day slide away.

"It seems that Judge Ellis has issued his opinion. Harold wants me to come into the office, and he asked if you'd come as well.” Gerald saw the hope spring into Dieter's eyes. “Before you get excited, Brian described Harold as being somber when he told him, which isn't good news.” Gerald placed his phone in his pocket before pulling Dieter into a hug. “I'm sorry."

Dieter squeezed him in return. “There's nothing to be sorry about. You did your best. I know that, and you have nothing to be ashamed of or regret.” Dieter lifted his head off Gerald's shoulders, meeting his eyes. “I mean that. I doubt anyone else could have done what you did. So hold your head high and let's get ready to go.” Dieter kissed him before stepping away.

They doused the fire and turned off the lights and music before grabbing their coats. Dieter was already outside when Gerald realized he'd forgotten his keys. Hurrying into the kitchen, he grabbed them off the counter, walking back through the dark and quiet house, stopping to peer at Dieter's grandmother's portrait. “I really tried,” he said softly before leaving the house.

They rode in silence from the house to the office. Gerald parked in his spot, and they rode the elevator up. In the lobby, Gerald waved to the receptionist, who was talking on the phone. She waved back and Gerald continued into the office. Dropping their coats in his office, they walked back up front to find Harold.

As he approached Harold's office, Gerald saw a crowd gathered, and then someone began to applaud and then that person was joined by the others, along with a few cheers. Gerald turned to Dieter and then looked back at the crowd. Harold and Brian now stood in front, both men walking toward them. “Congratulations,” Harold said with a huge smile, literally patting Gerald on the back. “You did it."

"We won?” Gerald asked, looking at Dieter and then at Brian.

"You won. Judge Ellis issued an extremely strong opinion, and he ordered the Belvedere Museum to turn over all five paintings to Dieter. Of course, he had to stay his ruling because it's already being appealed, but we expected that. The thing is that you've already set a precedent,” Harold told him with a grin on his face. The sound of popping bottles filled the room, and Gerald felt a glass being pressed into his hand as Dieter vibrated with excitement next to him.

"So drink up and celebrate, because on Monday you start the appeal."

"Well,” Gerald said after sipping from his glass. “Dieter and I have talked it over, and we've agreed that we'd like you to handle the appeals,” Gerald told Brian, and he saw his eyes widen.

"Kid,” Brian said, doing his best John Wayne impression, and Dieter snickered. “Then we'll handle the appeal together, because I have a feeling there's going to be enough work to keep you busy for a long time.” Brian hoisted his glass, and Gerald glanced at Harold.

"The story has already been picked up by the local paper and even a few of the newswires,” Harold explained. “We're already getting calls from prospective clients who want help getting art returned. I got off a call ten minutes ago with a lady from New York whose family had a Tiffany window stolen from their mausoleum, and they want help getting it back from a collector in Japan. And they are specifically asking for you. So I'd say you are going to be a very busy man.” If Harold were grinning any more, he'd have looked like the Cheshire cat. “We'll talk over the details of your promotion to full associate on Monday,” Harold added softly before turning back to the group and raising his glass. Everyone followed suit and drank a toast of congratulations.

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