The Law of Attraction (2 page)

“Is that supposed to cheer me up?” I asked, clearing a path on the floor so she could get to her desk. I tended to spread out when I worked.

“I would think you would be pretty cheerful already with all the attention a certain prosecutor has been paying you lately.” She threw herself down in her chair, opened her bottom desk drawer and put her feet up. Okay, that got my attention. I hadn’t told anyone about my little infatuation, not even her, but I guess that ogling him and then asking him to comfort me hadn’t exactly been subtle.

“And what prosecutor would that be?” I asked lightly, sitting back on my heels.

“The beautiful blonde Braden Pierce,” she said, smirking.

“Why would Mr. Heavy-hitter be paying attention to me?” I went back to sorting piles on the floor and tried to act nonchalant.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re good-looking and smart and funny?”

“Well, then he’s just looking for a good time. I hear he doesn’t date; he just hooks-up. Anyway, you’re probably wrong. The women he likes look like Playboy bunnies.”

“How do you know?”
Oh damn!
Caught by my own big mouth.

“He's a senator's son. I Googled him once.”

“Hey wait…”

“Wait what? I know what you’re thinking but I'm not a crazy stalker chick! I was just curious.”

“Not that! The other thing. Screw the Playboy bunnies!”

“I’m sure he did.”

“Like you’re not attractive? Look at you with the golden brown hair and the big hazel eyes. You also have big boobs and a nice ass which tend to be popular features with the male sex. The drunken business boys are on you like a bad rash every time we go out.”

“Thanks, but I’m just saying that he seems to have a type and I’m not a spray tan blonde with a two inch waist like the ones I've seen him with in pictures. Some of them were so Barbie-like I'm not even sure they had bendable legs.”

“Type or no type, I still say that he wants you.” She put her feet back on the floor and started clearing a space in front of her and stacking files.

“Yeah maybe for an extremely short-term relationship, like however long it would take to screw me. I don’t want to have a one night stand with a guy I face in court every day. To tell you the truth, I don’t really want to have a one night stand with anybody, no matter how hot they are.”

“So maybe he’d be willing to invest more than one night for you. We should ask Mark.” Mark Patterson was a fellow public defender who had been friends with Mr. Pierce and Mr. Roth in law school. They had managed to remain close even though they worked on opposite sides of the courtroom now. Together they were probably the three sexiest guys and the three biggest womanizers in the Philadelphia criminal court system, but Mark was still pretty cool just to hang out with, and he and Jess were really good friends.

“No! He would say something to him and then if you
were
wrong I would feel so embarrassed that I wouldn’t be able to do my job. Besides, he would see me as just another one of his groupies and I want him to respect me.” I was already having flashbacks to college. One adventure in complete humiliation was more than enough, thanks.

“And what if I were right?”

“Then he could always ask me out, couldn’t he? It’s not like it would be hard to track me down. I see him practically every day. I wouldn’t hold my breath though. I think he’s pretty content randomly screwing Barbie dolls that he meets in bars and clubs.”

“Well, I definitely don’t think he would ask you out unless you let him know that you were interested too. Sometimes you act so stand-offish around him.”

“I do?”

“I know you well enough to realize that you’re just attracted to him, but he probably wouldn’t know that. Well, he might figure it out after today. You seemed pretty flustered when he came over to talk to you and you did ask him to comfort you.” She laughed to herself as she started taking notes on a file.

“Oh God,” I moaned. “I’m such an asshole.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. He always looks at you like he wants to toss you in the jury box and have his wicked way with you. He also keeps moving closer to talk to you. I thought he was going to sit on your lap today and you obviously liked it.”

“Yeah, well, he smells good,” I said and paused to think about that for a second. “I need to get out more. I'm sniffing the prosecutors.”

Commonwealth v. O’Neal

The next day arrived, just as Jess had threatened, and once again I found myself up against Mr. Pierce in court, wishing that he had me up against the courtroom wall. He was becoming increasingly distracting, especially now that she had filled my head with all of her theories that he wanted me too. She was such an enabler sometimes.

“Okay Ms. Ginsberg,” Judge Channing said at the conclusion of the preliminary hearing. “Time for argument. Will we be attempting to amend the Constitution today?”

“No, Your Honor. I wouldn't want to become predictable,” I replied with a smile. Judge Channing wasn’t exactly a fan of mine, by the way. “It's the defense position that the Commonwealth has not made out the charge of attempted homicide. Mr. O'Neal allegedly shot Mr. Anthony in the leg at close range. Clearly if he had intended to kill him he would have aimed higher.”

“He would have aimed higher. I see. Mr. Pierce, your response?”

“Your Honor, Mr. O'Neal shot Mr. Anthony using a nine millimeter handgun on a crowded street in front of at least thirty witnesses. The Commonwealth has presented sufficient evidence to bind all charges, including attempted homicide, over for trial.”

“I'm sorry, Ms. Ginsberg, I'm going to have to go with Mr. Pierce on this one. The fact that your client is a lousy shot doesn't provide a defense. All charges are held. Schedule it for trial.” They led my client away and I headed back to the defense table to gather my things. Mr. Pierce came over to hand me the copy of the order. That was different. Prosecutors weren’t usually that polite. Instead of walking away he stayed there – so close I had to look up to talk to him. Wow, he was tall.

“He would have aimed higher?” he asked with amusement.

“Look, when you represent a guy who shoots somebody in front of sixty witnesses let's hear what you have to say, okay?” I turned around and leaned over to put the order in the file and when I turned back I caught him totally checking out my ass.

“Thirty witnesses,” he said, and quickly looked up at a group of cops coming in the door. I couldn’t help myself, I totally checked out
his
beautiful body and when he looked back, of course he caught me doing it. I yanked my eyes away from him and cleared my throat.

“Thirty, sixty. What difference does it make? Were they nuns too, by the way?” When I glanced back I saw him trying to stifle a laugh.

“I must admit that I admire your creativity.” I wondered if he meant it or if he was just teasing me as usual. I looked at him directly again and I saw his eyes drop to the bottom lip I was gnawing on nervously. I couldn’t handle the way he was looking at my mouth like that so I turned to gather the papers on the defense table. I was always freaking gathering something when he was around! I really needed to have sex again soon, and God, I hoped that I wasn’t thinking out loud again.

“Thank you, Mr. Pierce. I try. I'll be doing a second show later this afternoon. Just wait until you meet Tiny,” I said, starting to pack up my files. He couldn't hold back anymore. The laughter escaped but he politely covered it with a cough. I glanced up and caught sight of his beautiful mouth and my eyes lingered there. I wanted that mouth on so many parts of my body.

“Did you say something?” My gaze flew back up to his eyes.
Shit!

“Month. It’s been a busy month,” I mumbled and bit down on my bottom lip to prevent myself from saying anything else out loud. His eyes dropped to my mouth again and they actually seemed to get a little darker. I was starting to sweat and feel a great deal of tension in the room that had nothing to do with Mr. O’Neal’s poor aim. I had to get the hell out of there. I went to grab lunch before I grabbed Mr. Pierce and found out if he tasted as good as he smelled.
Jesus!
I felt like I needed a cold shower.

Commonwealth v. Kaminsky

At one o'clock we were back in front of the judge. “Okay, Ms. Ginsberg. Can't wait to hear what you're going to come up with this time,” Judge Channing said. Nothing like a vote of confidence from the judiciary.

“Your Honor, we all know that retail establishments sometimes discard unwanted or defective merchandise. It was perfectly reasonable for Mr. Kaminsky to have mistakenly believed that the merchandise in question here had been abandoned.”

“Uh huh. Mr. Pierce, what do you have to say?” the judge asked.

“Your Honor, nobody discards twenty-seven HD flat screen TVs.”

“You know, Mr. Pierce, I'm inclined to agree. All charges held for trial.” Judge Channing banged his gavel and Tiny was escorted away by two rather wary-looking deputies. I was fairly sure Tiny wasn't anybody's bitch in the jail. I headed back to the defense table again.

“You were right. That was pretty good,” Mr. Pierce said, handing me the order again. His hand brushed against mine this time and I jumped like I had just stuck my finger in a socket. He looked at me like I might be really be dangerous after all. Nice, Gabrielle – very subtle.

“I predict that I'll be breaking out the 'right to a trial defense’ again,” I said, trying to not act any weirder than I already was.

“You don't think he'll be willing to plead guilty?”

“Probably not. He firmly believes that claiming to be a complete idiot will get him off.”

“You're very funny,” he said, leaning against the defense table right next to me again.

“Mr. Pierce, in my line of work, one either laughs or cries and I would rather laugh.” Oh Jesus H. Christ! I sounded like a country western song.

“You can call me Braden.” He was looking at me kind of intently like he was curious to see how I would react. I felt my cheeks getting warmer and my heart started pounding like a drummer on speed. I was starting to wonder if I had high blood pressure or something. This couldn't be normal.

“You can call me Gabrielle then,” I said, staring directly into those incredible blue eyes and hoping that my face didn't look as pink as it felt. We were only inches away from each other and I could feel the heat from his body. I was looking up at him and he was looking down at me and I felt that tension there again, but just then the judge called out.

“Mr. Pierce, I hate to break up your conversation with Ms. Ginsberg but we need a prosecutor to be involved in this prosecution.” I looked over at the bench and saw that there was already another case waiting.

“Goodbye, Gabrielle,” he said with a smile. Why did my name sound so damned sexy when he said it? I placed my wheeling briefcase full of files on the floor. My toned muscles didn't just come from walking everywhere. I could probably bench-press a Buick.

“Goodbye, Braden,” I muttered and made my escape.

* * *

It was Friday and I wouldn't get to see him again for at least two days. I headed back to my office, probably the only one of the two hundred plus attorneys who worked there who wasn't thrilled that the weekend had finally arrived. I contemplated my plans for the next day. I could rearrange the kitchen cupboards, maybe catch a matinee, slit my wrists. The possibilities were endless. Jess was already at her desk when I got back and I unpacked my files as I thought more about my little exchange with Mr. Pierce — Braden.

“Mr. Pierce told me to call him by his first name and he also told me that I was funny.”

“Oh really?” she asked, spinning around in her chair and sounding diabolically intrigued like some evil genius in a James Bond movie. “So admit it, maybe I was right.” She had the “I told you so” look written all over her face.

“I don't want to hear it until I have some proof. Thanks to you planting your dubious theories in my head, I've gone from just lusting for him to pining for him too. I'm like Pepe Le Pew on Acid every time he gets near me now,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“We could go out to O'Malley's with the other public defenders later,” she suggested. “A lot of prosecutors go too on Fridays. Maybe he'll be there.”

“And what then? I can gaze at him from afar over a pitcher of beer?”

“You can flirt with him. Maybe you could get something going that way.”

“Because you know that picking up a guy in a bar is the best way to start a healthy romantic relationship. I’m not looking for a one-nighter Jess.”

“You don't have to go home with him. Just flirt with him and see what happens.”

“Just flirt with him and see what happens – those are famous last words if I ever heard them.”

O’Malley’s managed to seem upscale and still feel like the fun dive bar that every lawyer everywhere had hung out in when they were in law school. There was a large old-fashioned, central bar area, surrounded by tables lining the walls. When the place started filling up and the jukebox was playing, people tended to crowd into the open space between the bar and the tables to socialize and dance.

We had just walked in, and were navigating through the crowd, when we passed near a table surrounded by prosecutors laughing and drinking. We were en route to a table surrounded by public defenders laughing and drinking. After a week in the criminal justice system, laughing and drinking were necessary components for maintaining one's sanity. We had almost passed the prosecutors’ table when I heard Mr. Roth call out.

“Well if it isn't Ms. Albright and Ms. Ginsberg!” We paused and moved in closer to them. My stomach started contortions that would have made the U.S. Diving Team proud when I saw Braden sitting there, leaning back in his chair with his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up, and his tie and collar loose. You could sell postcards of that sight, baby.

“Hello, Mr. Roth,” Jess called out above the noise. “Drowning your sorrows?”

“Celebrating my victories, Ms. Albright. Perhaps you don’t recall my impressive courtroom performance earlier?” Mr. Roth was also a very handsome guy but in a different way than Mr. Pierce. Braden was a golden boy but Adam had dark good looks – dark hair, brown eyes, and always just a touch of five o’clock shadow. He was one of those guys who always looked like he may have come directly to work from some woman’s bed. And in Adam’s case that was a definite possibility.