I hadn’t meant to lose my cool, but damn it, I was tired of Olivia treating me like I was an intern, especially when I’d been a lawyer since well before she had even started law school. I shouldn’t have threatened her, but I needed her to know I was done fucking around.

I stormed out of the courthouse and pushed my way through the crowd of reporters that had gathered for the start of the trial. I walked up the block until I no longer felt like I was going to explode, then I slowed my pace and took several deep breaths.

I pulled out my phone and tried to call Reggie. It rang and went to voicemail before I remembered it was only five in Seattle. I paced back and forth for a few minutes, thinking to myself what Reggie would say. “You’re getting soft, Beck!” “Quit being such a pussy.” “Don’t let a woman get under your skin like that!” Reggie was a male chauvinistic pig and said things just to get me riled up, but that was what I needed right now. I needed someone to get me riled up, to talk some sense into me, to make me remember why I was here.

I gave myself the pep talk Reggie would’ve given me, and then I walked back down to the courthouse, ready to get to work.

* * *

Damn it, Olivia was good. I sat at the defense table, next to Josh Delaney, and listened, nearly in awe, to her opening arguments. We had gone over her notes when I got back from my little tantrum, but the few pages of scribbled notes were nothing compared to the compelling speech she was giving the jury right now.

“The prosecution is going to weave an elaborate story for you. A story with very few facts and based on the opinions of people who dislike Mr. Delaney because he’s wealthy. Their story will be convincing, so detailed and thorough you might actually come to believe that Mr. Delaney did in fact rape and kill his pregnant girlfriend,” Olivia said. I felt Josh stiffen in the seat beside me and patted him on the shoulder as a reassurance that Olivia knew what she was doing.

“But I urge to remember that the prosecution’s story is just that, a story. Listen carefully to the real evidence presented, and base your decision on the facts. And as you’ll learn over the next few weeks, the facts do not prove anything when it comes to my client’s guilt or innocence. There is certainly enough evidence, or lack thereof, for you to jump to the conclusion that Mr. Delaney could be guilty, but the standards of the law require that you find him guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, and there simply isn’t the evidence to support that conclusion.

“As the prosecution presents their case, you will notice there is no murder weapon, no witnesses or direct evidence to put Mr. Delaney at the scene of the crime, no compelling motive, nothing that paints him as a cold-blooded murderer.” Olivia took a breath and glanced over at the table, our eyes meeting for a brief second before she turned back to the jury.

Jesus, if I thought she was sexy before, nothing could compare with the way she looked right now, fully in her element. Her confidence and calm demeanor demanded the full attention of the jury, and everyone else in the room. Even dressed conservatively, she screamed sex appeal, her pouty lips filled with a pale pink lipstick, a color that reminded me of her wet pink pussy and the way it looked when she was spread before me on her desk. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and tried to focus on what Olivia was saying.

“What you will hear is an abundance of evidence that Josh Delaney loved Cecilia, that he had plans to make her his wife, that he was generous and caring in all aspects of his life, that his world has been shaken and his life turned upside down by the senseless murder of his future family. I urge you to consider those points, along with the rest of the evidence, as you listen to the testimony in the coming weeks. Thank you for time and service as jury members.”

Olivia wrapped up her speech and sat down at the table, on the other side of Josh. She didn’t look at me, didn’t seek any sort of approval or acceptance from me. She whispered something in Josh’s ear, and he smiled.

“Council, please approach,” Judge Davidson called from the bench. Olivia and I both stood and made our way to the bench, along with Drew and his partner, whose name I didn’t know. “Mr. Drew, how long is your first witness going to take?” Davidson asked.

“At least an hour or two,” Drew said.

“Seeing as it’s already after three, I recommend we recess for the rest of the day and get a fresh start on time tomorrow morning. Do any of you have any objections to that?”

“Tomorrow is great,” Drew said. Olivia opened her mouth like she was going to argue, but I spoke before she could.

“No objections to starting tomorrow morning, Your Honor,” I said. He looked at Olivia and waited for her response.

“That is fine, Your Honor,” she conceded. She glared at me as we turned and walked back to the table.

“Court will be in recess until tomorrow at nine AM,” Judge Davidson said before he gave the jury instructions to not watch or read any news or speak to anyone about the trial. Olivia spoke quietly to Josh while the courtroom cleared.

“They are going to keep you here in the city at the Lincoln Correctional Facility for the rest of trial, to avoid the delays and travel costs of moving you to and from Green Haven every day,” she said. "It's only 15 minutes from the courthouse."

“It’s not safe for me there!” Josh protested.

“You will be in a private cell, away from all other prisoners,” I interjected. “You’ll mostly just be sleeping there anyway. You’ll be here most of the day.”

“You’ll also have a guard on duty at your cell the entire time you are there,” Olivia said. “Trust us, it will be better for everyone to have you closer during the trial.”

We walked Josh back to the holding cell, where he would wait until his transport arrived in a few minutes, before leaving the courtroom, where a crowd of reporters waited.

“Ms. Roberts, how is Josh feeling?” one reporter shouted out.

“There have been rumors of a suicide attempt by Josh … can you speak to those rumors? How does that impact your case?” another called out.

“We have no comment about the case at this time, and as for the rumors, you can reference the Delaney family statement made on August 14 about that matter,” I said, putting my hand on Olivia’s back and guiding her through the crowd.

“Who are you?” a short, red-headed reporter asked from my left.

“James Beck, co-counsel on the case.”

“Ms. Roberts, any comments?” the red-head pressed.

“Tell them you have no comment and keep walking,” I hissed in her ear. I felt her body tense under my hand.

“As Mr. Beck said, we have no comment at this time,” Olivia said, her voice calm and cool, showing no signs of the anger I knew was bubbling up under the surface.

We made our way through the reporters and back into the room that would serve as our home base and office for the next several weeks. I pushed the heavy door shut behind us and clicked the lock into place, the noise from the hallway quickly cut-off by the sound-proof door.

“What the hell was that?” Olivia yelled, turning around to face me. “You don’t...” I silenced her with a kiss. My body crashing into hers, my hands roaming down her back and over her ass, I commanded her mouth with mine. My self-control had been fighting me all day and finally lost. I let all my anger and aggression come through in that kiss, and when I pulled away we were both breathing hard. We stood there looking at each other, the sounds of our heavy breathing the only noise in the room. There had been enough words for one day. Now it was time to let our bodies do the talking.

Olivia turned and started gathering her things, stuffing them haphazardly into her briefcase.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“There are still reporters here, let’s go back to the office.”

“The office?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “How about my place?”

“My place, your place, the office, it doesn’t matter.” She finished packing her things and walked to the doorway. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

It was the first thing she’d said all day I agreed with.