Chapter 10
Marcel
Marcel couldn’t believe his luck. Running into Sharla Ratliff like that had to be an omen. A damn good one.
Watching her stalk out of the restaurant on those incredible legs of hers got him revved up all over again. His fantasy of getting with her was actually going to come true. Now that he knew her last name, he would look her up online and find out where she worked. Based on the sharp, navy blue suit she was wearing, Sharla was probably with a top-notch law firm. Marcel loved smart women but didn’t date many. The bobbleheads were way too easy to attract. He needed the challenge of someone like Sharla Ratliff.
He’d give her 48 hours to call him. If she didn’t, he would call her. She was trying to play hard to get, but Marcel didn’t buy it. At the dance, she was all attitude. Just now, she came off as genuinely shy.
That realization forced his lips into a corny smile. The quiet ones often turned out to be super freaks.
Once his client arrived, Marcel’s thoughts turned to the discovery motion he was about to argue. Typically, there wasn’t much riding on this kind of hearing. But if the judge ruled in his favor today, it would all but decimate the plaintiff’s case. That would bode well for Marcel. Ivers Corporation was a new client and Marcel planned to impress them by disposing of the case quickly, rather than stringing it out and billing them up the wazoo. The company would be thrilled about the quick resolution and throw more work his way.
Even though the law wasn’t solidly in his favor, Marcel was still expecting a win. He’d written a persuasive brief, but more importantly, the judge hearing the case was one of the laziest jurists on the bench. Instead of reading the case law for himself, Judge Kidwell tended to follow the lead of the big law firms appearing before him. The plaintiff’s attorney was a solo practitioner. That meant Marcel’s firm, Sherman & Finnegan, would have an edge with the judge.
Marcel walked into the courtroom and handed the judge’s clerk his business card.
“Is there a tentative?” he asked.
Most judges issued a tentative ruling prior to the hearing but still gave counsel the opportunity to argue their respective positions. In only a few instances had Marcel been able to sway a judge to change a tentative decision that wasn’t in his favor.
“Judge Kidwell had an emergency,” the clerk replied. “Another judge is covering today.”
A surge of panic settled in his chest. Marcel had his client all psyched up for a big win. The only reason he’d been so confident was because Judge Kidwell was hearing the case. A substitute judge probably hadn’t had time to even read the briefs.
Just as he was about to ask who was filling in for Kidwell, the bailiff called the court to order. Marcel scrambled back to the gallery. The Ivers case was first on the docket.
When the back door of the courtroom opened, an invisible sucker-punch almost knocked Marcel off his feet. He watched in shock as Sharla Ratliff, her navy-blue suit covered by a long black robe, climbed atop the bench.
A dozen thoughts swirled around in his head all at once. Was this a good or bad thing? Since he was so horny for the woman, would he be able to think straight? She studied a document in front of her, oblivious to his presence in the courtroom.
The clerk called out the case name. Marcel and the plaintiff’s counsel made their way into the well of the courtroom. Sharla—or Judge Ratliff—still hadn’t looked up.
“Good morning,” she said, all businesslike, her eyes barely skimming her audience before falling back to the document in front of her. “Please state your appearances for the record.”
The opposing counsel announced his name, law firm, and client, then turned to him.
“Marcel Dennard, with Sherman & Finnegan, counsel for defendant and responding party, Ivers Corporation.”
Sharla’s head shot up. There was a bolt of panic in her eyes before they fell back to the desk. Marcel could tell she was taking a few seconds to compose herself.
Once again, all Marcel could feel was lust. Instead of thinking about his oral argument, he was imagining her butt naked underneath that robe. When he got with her, he would ask her to put it on. He’d crawl underneath it and drive her wild with his tongue. Or maybe he’d wear it while she went down on him.
“Mr. Dennard, did you hear my question?” Sharla fired an impatient glare down from the bench.
No, Your Honor, I didn’t. I was too busy fantasizing about you giving me head.
He hoped she couldn’t see his erection from the bench. He took a folder from the table and held it in front of his crotch.
“Excuse me, Your Honor. Could you repeat the question?”
Sharla was as aloof as she had been at the dance. She was pretending that she didn’t recognize him from Adam.
“My question,” she said, her voice full of irritation, “was how do you distinguish the Ross and Willis cases? They clearly support the plaintiff’s position. As I interpret those cases, you have no valid basis for refusing to turn over the personnel files of the employees who’ve been subpoenaed for deposition.”
“Actually, Your Honor, the cases are distinguishable from our case. Important privacy rights are at issue here and the discovery requests are also overly burdensome.”
“Arguing burdensomeness isn’t going to get you anywhere, Mr. Dennard,” Sharla fired back. “As stated in the Ross decision—which you cited in your brief by the way—the court is required to balance the importance of discovery against the burden on the producing party. I can’t see how turning over these personnel files could be a burden for a huge corporation like your client.”
Damn. She actually read the cases. Kidwell never did that.
“That’s absolutely right,” counsel for the plaintiff chimed in. “The files we’re seeking are quite relevant and no burden at all for Ivers Corporation to produce.”
“Your Honor, uh—” Marcel was usually pretty smooth on his feet, but today he must have looked like a baby lawyer arguing his first motion. He couldn’t remember what he was about to say. “Uh—I—uh, actually, it’s not just an issue of burdensomeness. As I pointed out in my brief, the personnel files are not relevant to any of the claims in this case.”
The judge frowned. “Your opposing counsel contends that the employees’ performance evaluations, annual compensation, and bonuses go directly to whether they rushed a defective product to market for their personal financial gain.”
Marcel needed to take the floor back. “Well—uh—I respectfully disagree. Just because an employee received a bonus doesn’t mean their decision to approve the product is tainted. And there are other ways for the plaintiff to obtain this information besides snooping around in their personnel files.”
“Your Honor,” plaintiff’s counsel interrupted again, “we tried another way, but Mr. Dennard refused to provide the requested information in response to our interrogatory requests.”
“Really?” Sharla pursed her lips. “You had your chance, Mr. Dennard, but you blew it. You should’ve answered those interrogatories. So I’m—”
“Hold on, Your Honor.” Marcel was desperate to salvage the worst oral argument of his career. “If I could just—”
“Don’t interrupt me, counsel,” the judge snapped. “I’m ordering you to hand over the personnel file of every employee who’s been subpoenaed for deposition within thirty-six hours. The plaintiff’s motion to compel is granted.”
What the fuck?
“Your Honor, I’d like to be heard on the issue of—”
“No need. I’ve ruled.” Sharla banged her gavel. “Next case.”