Love Proof (Laws of Attraction) - By Elizabeth Ruston Page 0,50

like to do more discovery before the hearing,” she said. “If the three of us can agree to that now, then great. If not, I’ll file a motion with the judge. But either way, I want to talk to more of your clients, Burke. I’m sure you’re not trying to hide anything.”

There it is, she thought. He didn’t look so tired now. He looked angry.

“On the record,” he said to Marcela. The court reporter had to quickly set down her muffin and coffee, and prepare to type again. “Counsel for the plaintiff stipulates to expanding discovery to include additional depositions of parties. Names of deponents, locations, dates, and times to be determined upon consultation with opposing attorneys.”

He glanced at Marcela. “Off the record.” Then he leveled his gaze at Sarah. “Satisfied?”

“What do you say, Paul?” she asked, turning away from Joe’s eyes. “Now that you’re warmed up, ready for a marathon?”

Chapman bit down on a danish. “Don’t know why you have to make it so hard, Sarah.”

“I don’t know,” she answered, “maybe because they’re paying me?”

She’d already drawn up a preliminary schedule while Chapman droned on that morning. She showed the other two lawyers how they could fit in at least five more states, all in the Midwest and on the east coast, between then and the end of February.

Chapman glanced at the court reporter to make sure they were still off the record.

“You know it’s going to settle,” he said out of the side of his mouth as if letting them in on a secret. “Don’t know why you’re going to all this trouble.”

Burke smiled, but Sarah knew that look: Joe’s You’re a complete idiot look. “Of course we’ll entertain any offers your client wants to make, Paul,” he said. “And since I expect the judge to certify this as a class action, you should probably make me an offer soon, before that happens. But until then, if we’re in it, we’re in it. I don’t object to Sarah talking to every single one of my clients if she wants to.”

Sarah noticed he didn’t look at her. He wasn’t doing this for her benefit, she supposed, he was just reacting to the procedural aspects of the case, the same way he would if there had been any other attorney on the other side.

Chapman sighed. “All right, if you two are such gluttons. But I may start sending an associate to some of these. I still have work to do back at the office, you know. I don’t even get my weekends anymore.”

“You poor man,” Sarah couldn’t resist saying. “Whereas I go straight from the airport to a spa every Friday night.”

“See?” Chapman said to Joe, pointing at Sarah.

“I have the pink toenails to prove it,” Sarah added. She and her mother had enjoyed a ladies’ pampering night over Thanksgiving, and it was the first time in months any nail of Sarah’s had seen any color. Now that she thought about it, the idea of going from LAX to a spa sounded so heavenly—and out of reach—she wished she’d never brought it up.

“I’m going to lunch,” Joe said. “We’re back at one o’clock.”

***

The man stayed true to his word, Sarah thought. He barely looked at her if there weren’t some reason associated with the case, and he’d certainly been keeping his distance all day long. On the way back from lunch she saw him waiting to cross the street, and she knew he saw her, too. But he didn’t wait for her, didn’t try to initiate any kind of conversation, just pulled his suit coat tighter against the wind and strode back toward the hotel.

Sarah didn’t know what she expected. No, that wasn’t true, she told herself. What she expected was some kind of recognition that she was wearing their hat, their gloves, maybe pull some kind of comment out of him, even if it was sarcastic. Anything to acknowledge that yes, they had their moments the week before, and no, neither of them had forgotten.

But midway through Chapman’s ridiculous questioning of Burke’s next client, Sarah snapped out of it and realized what she was doing.

I’m chasing him again. I’m following him to the library, begging him to talk to me, and there he is with that girl, and he’s about to grab her ass—

“Your witness,” Chapman said abruptly.

“What?”

He checked his watch. “She’s your witness. I need to go make a phone call.”

Sarah checked her watch, too. It was only a little after two.

Chapman must have realized what he said,

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