Love Proof (Laws of Attraction) - By Elizabeth Ruston Page 0,51
because he looked guiltily toward Marcela and said, “Not that last part—take that off. I meant off the record.”
Marcela looked to both Sarah and Joe. Sarah waved it off. “No objection. I don’t care.”
Joe nodded without looking up. “Fine.”
Chapman raced out of the room like he suddenly remembered he had a flight to catch.
“I just have a few questions,” Sarah told Joe’s client. She was surprised Chapman would let the deposition go on in his absence, but that wasn’t her problem. She introduced herself, asked her questions, and they were done twenty minutes later.
Joe escorted his client out of the room, leaving just Marcela and Sarah.
“That sounded so good!” Marcela said.
“What?”
“A spa.” She looked toward the door to make sure neither of the men were coming back in, and whispered conspiratorially, “I’ll bet we can find one.”
“Here?” Sarah asked.
Marcela sat down and started thumbing a search into her phone. “Four of them,” she announced. “You have a car, don’t you?”
A smile spread over Sarah’s face. “Do you want to?”
“I will if you will,” the court reporter answered.
Sarah took a deep breath. Flourish. She had been so careful with money, even once she started receiving a regular paycheck again, but maybe it was all right to loosen her hold on it every now and then. Maybe she was allowed a few luxuries, especially if a surprise opportunity presented itself.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s call and see if we can get in.” Then she added, “But you can’t tell the boys. Ever. I’m supposed to be as manly as they are.”
Marcela grinned. “Our secret.”
***
“You and Joe know each other, don’t you?” Marcela asked on the way to the massage studio. “From before, I mean.”
“Why do you say that?” Sarah asked, stalling. She didn’t really know Marcela, other than their polite interactions surrounding the depositions the past several weeks. Marcela had been the court reporter at more than half of them so far, and Sarah supposed she felt comfortable enough now to ask such a personal question.
But it wasn’t something Sarah felt comfortable answering.
“I could tell,” Marcela said. “By the way he picked you up and carried you when you were sick. And the way you put your arms around him and put your head on his chest. It looked like you’d done that before.”
Leave it to a woman to notice details like that, Sarah thought. She doubted Chapman would have picked up on it.
“We used to date,” Sarah confirmed. “A long time ago. But please don’t tell anyone—especially Paul.”
“What we say in this car stays in this car,” Marcela said. “Off the record. But it’s not illegal, is it? I mean, you can be an attorney against someone you went out with, right?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with it, technically,” Sarah said. “There’s an ethical rule about disclosing to your client the fact that you might be married to someone on the other side, or related to them in some other way.” She remembered there being something about that on the California bar exam. “But I don’t think there’s any rule about telling people you dated someone once.”
“Then what’s the problem with it getting out?” Marcela asked. “I won’t tell anyone,” she hurried to add, “but I’m just curious.”
“I always think it’s best to keep our private lives out of cases,” Sarah said. “We’re all just here to do our jobs. Sometimes if people know too much about you . . . it complicates things.”
Knowing Joe was certainly complicating things for her.
“I heard he stayed,” Marcela said. “He didn’t go back until Thanksgiving.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“From one of the girls at his office.”
“See?” Sarah said. “That’s what I’m talking about. I don’t want people knowing things about me.”
“I’m sorry,” Marcela said.
“No, it’s not you,” Sarah said with a sigh. She realized she’d sounded harsher than she meant to. She also knew she was particularly sensitive to the topic of gossip, having lived through a scandal earlier that year. She knew people had all sorts of opinions about her, including whether she had been more involved with the senior partners’ crimes than anyone let on. Maybe she was paranoid, Sarah thought, but maybe she had a good reason.
She parked the car and turned to Marcela. “There’s nothing between me and Joe now. We’re just friends—actually, not even that. We knew each other, then we grew up. The end.”
Marcela shook her head. “Didn’t look like ‘the end’ to me. You should have seen the way he looked at you. That’s how I knew.”