Trials (Rock Bottom) (4 page)

When I reach the living room, I’m shocked to see candles surrounding the room, seemingly on every flat surface.
I stare open-mouthed at the table, window sills, and countertops all illuminated with dancing flames. When I finally look at the couch, Scott is laying there completely naked, holding a bottle of champagne in a convenient spot. The couch can barely hold his muscular body. He’s smiling suggestively at me.

“Oh my God!”
I giggle, turning away from him and blushing. He laughs under his breath before I turn back around. “What’s all this?”

His eyes sparkle at me. “I’m so proud of you baby,” Scott says, with endearing emotion in his voice. “You’ve come so far. I want to celebrate with you.”

I sit down at the edge of the couch by his feet. “Well, do we have to have champagne? Or can we skip that and get down to celebrating?”

He puts the bottle down on the coffee table, fully e
xposing his amazing body. He sits up on the couch to lean into me, pressing his forehead against mine. Our breathing increases, and he runs his fingers through my hair before tilting my head back and kissing me passionately.

His hands trail down my arms as I moan into his mouth. I reach up and run my fingers through his hair before he lifts the bottom of my shirt up and over my head. He undoes my bra easily, tossing it over the back of the couch. He pushes his body into mine, leaning me back on the couch.

I feel his hardness against the outside of my clothes, and it feels amazing. My body heats to his touch as if every inch of me desires him. He breaks away from kissing me for a moment and begins to undo my pants. I arch my back as he slides both my pants and underwear off of me and lets them fall to the floor.

He continues to run his fingers through my hair as he begins to kiss me again, this time with more love and affection than passion.
Short, sweet, and soft kisses. My muscles relax under him in response.

He enters me slowly, pushing himself into me gently. I moan and stare up at him to look into his eyes. He meets my gaze and smiles at me. “I love you, Dylan,” he whispers to me as he begins to move.

“I love you,” I respond.

It’s been three weeks since I began my internship
in the office of my dreams. My job has turned out to be more than I could have ever asked for. I currently am still working with Mr. Schuster in the Municipal Court Division and have even gotten to travel to courts in different counties, meeting influential people and learning the ropes as we go along. A lot of my job is paperwork but that’s okay. I’m good at the paperwork and it really takes a lot of pressure off of Mr. Schuster.

I haven’t heard much about Jeremy’s case- both a blessing and a curse. I’m assuming it
’s because there isn’t much either side knows about it yet. I’ve heard some people mention here and there that reports have come in related to the autopsy and crime scene screenings, but never a mention of Jeremy’s name specifically.

As I begi
n work on my fourth Monday morning at the office, I’m not expecting anything out of the ordinary. I say hi to a few people in the office I’m now friendly with as I walk to my desk. When I reach my desk, I see Mr. Schuster leaning on it, smiling at me. “Hey, kid,” he says, affectionately.

“Hi, Sir.
How’s it going?” I ask him, putting my stuff down on his desk.

“You’ll never believe what I just got done talking to Current about.”

“Oh?” I say, taking some things out of my bag and setting them on the desk.

“Yeah, we were talking about you.”

That peaks my interest. I stop fiddling with the paperwork in my incoming box and look up at him. “And?” I say, arching a brow.

Mr. Schuster is smiling, so I take that as a good sign. “He was asking how you were doing, and I told him how well you’ve been working. He said he noticed your work ethic and the quality of your work, and he wants to talk to you about a big opportunity he may have for you.”

I’m giddy. The idea of moving to a new department within the office is exciting for me. As much as I like helping out Mr. Schuster, I’m ready to learn another facet of prosecution. “That’s so exciting!”

Mr. Schuster turns to head back to his desk. He plops down in his chair, turning to face me. “He said he’ll probably pull you aside sometime this week. I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

I smile and nod at him before he turns back to his desk and absorbs himself in his paperwork. I sigh and sit, grabbing the papers from my incoming box and mulling through them. I wonder how I’m supposed to deal with not knowing what the big project is for a few more days.

Throughout the day, I notice people talking in hushed whispers again. First, in the small employee kitchen I saw two women gossiping back and forth by the refrigerator. They stopped their conversation when I entered the room. Then, the same thing happened when I passed a group of people on my way to the bathroom. They were all talking quietly and as I passed they ended their conversation. In fact, I’ve seen almost everyone in the office huddled together with a co-worker at some point today.

It’
s making me really self-conscious. It reminds me of what happened a few weeks ago when the news of Jeremy’s involvement in the case broke. I’m not normally someone who needs in on the gossip but this is killing me. I make the resolve to confront Mr. Schuster about all the secrecy.

I approach his desk and stand in front of it. Mr. Schuster is looking down at a huge pile of papers in front of him, his eyes moving back and forth as he reads the documents. Sensing my presence, he looks up from his work.

“What’s up?” he asks me, leaning back in his chair.

“Do you know what’s up with everyone today?” I inquire. I’m nothing if not direct.

He smirks. “Oh, there’s just some hot shot rock…”

“Miss Ackhart!” A voice cuts off Mr. Schuster
from behind me. I instinctively whip around to face Mr. Current. He walks towards us slowly, raising his hands in a wave.

When he reaches us he extends his hand to shake mine. “Mr. Current?” I
ask, my heart beating out of my chest. I thought it was going to take a few days for him to talk to me, but it looks like my suspense is over.

“Can I pull you away for a moment?” he as
ks, looking from Mr. Schuster to me.

“Of course,” we say simultaneously.

I nod at Mr. Schuster as Mr. Current extends an arm and allows me to go ahead of him. We walk in silence to his office, each footstep making my stomach hurt more and more. I’m excited, scared, and nervous all at the same time. Whatever he was planning to have me do next seems like a big deal.

We walk into his office and I take a chair in front of his large desk. Mr. Current sits behind the desk and leans back, looking casual.
“So, Miss Ackhart. I have an important proposition for you,” he begins.

“Okay,” I respond simply
.

“You know I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been able to accomplish here in the month since you began. You get more done than most of the lawyers on my payroll. And you do it bet
ter than they do. Very impressive.”

“Thank you, Sir.” My cheeks redden.

Mr. Current clears his throat and sits forward, leaning on his desk. “You’re too talented to work in Municipal Court forever. How would you like to try working in Homicide?”

My body is rigid. The homicide unit is one of my dream units, but usually only the most experienced and talented
staff is assigned to work there.  “Wow, Mr. Current. I’m flattered.”

He smiles and nods. “Yes, I think if we were to bring you on board after graduation, you would do well there. My proposition for you is that we move you over to that unit tomorrow to orient you to how things run over there. Right now is a good time because we’re working on a high profile case.”

Instantly my brain slows. I try to control my breathing and keep the color in my cheeks, but Mr. Current examines my face as if he’s expecting something. I remain as stoic as possible. “High profile, Sir?”

“Yes.
A homicide involving the musician Jeremy Mason. I assume you’ve heard of him.”

Fuck
, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Yes, Sir.”
I’m trying to swallow whatever moisture is left in my mouth so I’m able to talk normally.

“Great. Tomorrow I’ll give you access to his case files and introduce you to my co-counsel, Steven. You’ll be working directly with us during this investigation. After you sit in with us on the questioning tomorrow, we can get you set up with the research.”

Questioning? Questioning…questioning…

“Questioning?” I can barely make enough sound for the word to come out.

“Yes, Mr. Mason will be here tomorrow for an initial questioning and affidavit development. I want you in there with us while we question him to learn firsthand. It’s sink or swim here, Miss Ackhart. No time to use baby steps.”

How much is that doggie in the window…

No, Dylan. Nod. Respond somehow
.

A few moments pass before I’m able to move. I nod my head at him. Underwhelming but it will have to do. At least he’ll know I’m not having an absent seizure.

Mr. Current smiles wide, standing up from his desk and coming around towards me. I stand up and shake his hand as he extends it to me. “I know you’ll do great. No need to be nervous. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I nod again and thank him with the little voice I have left. When
I exit the office, I walk as fast as I can to the women’s bathroom. I enter and lock the door behind me, sliding down onto the floor.

Oh my God. Oh my God…

I put my head in my hands. I cannot have a full blown panic attack here. But what am I going to do? Is this seriously happening?

I can’t make heads or tails of what’s going on here. It’s as if fate is forcing us together. I mean, he’s the most famous person in the world. What are the chances that an average, normal girl like me would run into him at all? And I’ve ha
d to cross paths with him twice? I feel like I’m being tried, over and over, to see what I’m going to do when I’m put in front of him. Like I am constantly faced with a horrible decision with no good answer and yet I’m still made to choose.

I stand up from the floor and walk over to the sink. I turn on the water as cold as it will go and
splash it on to my face. The water helps shock me out of my impending panic. I look into the mirror before grabbing a towel, watching the water fall down my face. My skin is pale and my pupils dilated. No way am I passing for normal.

I decide I’m going to have to sneak out early and head home.
After telling Mr. Schuster I am feeling ill and need to go, I leave and drive home, shaking and nauseous the whole way.

“There are so many things wrong with this situation,” I say to Dr. Spritz. I find myself in her
dark office again for an emergency session. Lately, going to therapy is the only thing that seems to help me feel settled and work things out in my head.

She nods. “Indeed. What are some of the problems you see?”

I clear my throat. “Well, he probably doesn’t want to see me. “He’s made it obvious he doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m scared the media is going to recognize me and then I’ll lose my internship, internship, or at the very least lose the opportunity to work in the Homicide division. I’m scared my bosses won’t take me seriously if they know I dated him and they definitely won’t let me stay on the case. And…I, I don’t want to work on a case against him.”

“Why?” she asks, ignoring my other statements.

“Because he’s not guilty. I know he’s not guilty.”

Dr. Sprintz puts her notebook and pen down beside her. She leans in closer to me. “Don’t you think it goes deeper than that?”

I look down. I am embarrassed to say it out loud. “I still love him.”

“And how do you expect to do your job fairly if you love the person you’re trying to convict?”

I shake my head, still too ashamed to make eye contact with her. “I don’t.”

“Maybe you need to start thinking ethically. You need to remove yourself from the case.”

“Don’t you dare remove yourself from that case,” Scott says, grabbing my hand. We’re sitting on the couch drinking a glass of wine. I figured he would need a few glasses after I told him the news. “He’s ruined enough for you already.”

“He hasn’t ruined anything for me, Scott,” I whisper. I’m having a hard time looking at Scott now that I’ve admitted that I’m still in love with Jeremy
to my doctor out loud. I guess it’s not exactly a secret to anyone, not even Scott. But I think a lot of people would have expected me to at least have moved on somewhat by now. I’m able to function better now than before, but I still love him just as painfully much.

Scott guffaws
at my statement. “You forget I was here after he stopped talking to you. You were a fucking mess.”

“Alright,” I say. I look up at Scott, knowing I have a pathetic look on my face. “Just tell me what to do?”

Scott’s anxiety seems to fade and he leans back on the couch, his eyes assessing me. I know Scott is brilliant and I know he wants the best for me. I’m just so tired. I’m just so confused and scared. I’m just going to do whatever he thinks is best for me.

“We need to dye your hair.”

“
Dye my hair?!”
I’m appalled. I don’t want to dye my hair. I like my hair. “Why?”

“So it’s harder for the press to recognize you. You’ll be seriously screwed if the press gets wind that you’re Dylan Ackhart.”

I grab my long, blonde locks like a petulant child. “Really?” I say in desperation.

“Would you rather cut it?” Scott says, challenging me.

“No!”

He nods. “Thank God you’re an intern so you won’t be working too close to the case or you’d have to drop it.”

I may have left the part out where Mr. Current told me to sit in on his questioning. I definitely left out that I don’t think it’s ethical to help with the case since I still love Jeremy. But once Scott tells me to go to a drug store and buy brown hair dye, I panic and call Theresa. I put all the other problems on hold for now. I have to figure out how to dye my hair without it being a spotty mess. Theresa is good at that stuff.

Theresa shows up at my door an hour later holding a box of hair dye, and soon after I’m sitting in a chair with the stuff all over my hair, I figure it’s too late now to argue. I’m doing the case.

Theresa and I are standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror as she dries my hair with a hair drier. She looks so radiant and beautiful since she’s been married, like the blissful happiness she feels radiates through her. I sigh. Every time I see her now I’m reminded why so much time goes by in between our get-togethers. I lost the love of my life, and she’s found hers. It so wonderful and I’m so happy for her…but, I’m so hurt. Sometimes I wonder if that makes me a heartless, selfish bitch. Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that it hurts to be around her sometimes.

I turn my attention towards the mirror when Theresa shuts off the blow drier. “Wow,” she says under her breath. I’m shocked at my reflection. The deep, chestnut brown hair really brings out my fair complexion. I look much less washed ou
t than I did before. My eyes look even more strikingly green, and I thought that wasn’t even possible. Brown hair surprisingly suits me.