Page 48 of Faking it with my Bad Boy Crush

And most importantly—the emergency motion was an attempt to circumvent the legitimate legal process, filed only after our fraud allegations threatened to expose the coordinated campaign against Maya's bakery.

"It's good," Maya said after reading through it twice. "Really good. Do you think the judge will buy it?"

"She should. The law is on our side." I pulled up the business plan next—now polished and professional, with graphs and projections that painted a picture of a thriving, growing business. "And this shows that you're not a struggling baker who needs rescuing. You're a successful entrepreneur with a solid growth strategy."

Maya studied the business plan, her honey-brown eyes moving across the numbers and projections we'd built together. "You made me look impressive."

"I documented what already exists. You made yourself impressive." I closed the laptop. "The question is whether Judge Morrison will see it the same way."

"And if she doesn't? If she grants the restraining order?"

"Then we appeal. And we fight harder." I met her eyes. "I'm not letting them take your bakery, Maya. Not without exhausting every legal option available."

She was quiet for a moment. "Have you decided? About Marcus's offer?"

The question I'd been avoiding. The choice I'd spent all night wrestling with.

"Not yet," I admitted. "But I will. After today's hearing. After I see this through."

"Ethan—"

"Let's just focus on winning," I cut her off gently. "One battle at a time."

The Friday Harbor courthouse was more crowded than I expected for an emergency motion hearing. Word had spread across the island—the corporate lawyer fighting for the local baker, the fraud allegations against a mainland investment group, the emergency attempt to shut down a fifty-year-old business.

People cared. And they'd shown up to watch.

I spotted familiar faces in the gallery: Tessa, sitting front row with a notebook like she was documenting everything. When I asked what for, she said it was for research purposes. Emily Russell from the bookstore. The couple who ran the island grocery. At least two dozen others, all watching with the kind of invested interest that came from understanding the outcome mattered to their entire community.

Richard Sterling sat at our table, reviewing his own copy of our response motion. "Good work," he said quietly as I sat down. "This is exactly the argument we need."

"Will it be enough?" Maya asked, taking her seat beside me. She'd changed into dark slacks and a cream blouse—professional but authentically herself, not trying to be something she wasn't.

"It should be." Richard glanced at the opposing counsel's table, where three lawyers in expensive suits were setting up. "They brought the heavy artillery. That's either confidence or desperation."

"Desperation," I said, recognizing the lead counsel—Victoria Curtis, Marcus's sister and one of the firm's top litigators. "They wouldn't send someone that senior unless they were worried."

Judge Morrison entered at exactly 9 AM, her steel-gray hair pulled back, her expression giving nothing away.

"Be seated," the bailiff called. "The Honorable Judge Patricia Morrison presiding in the matter of Hutchins versus Romano, emergency motion for injunctive relief."

Victoria Curtis stood first, her movements precise and controlled. "Your Honor, my client has been patient and reasonable throughout this property dispute. He's attempted to resolve the boundary issue through proper legal channels. Instead, he's been subjected to baseless fraud allegations designed to harass and intimidate. These allegations have caused significant damage to his reputation and business relationships."

I kept my expression neutral, though internally I was noting every overreach, every exaggeration.

"Furthermore," Victoria continued, "Ms. Romano continues to use the disputed parking area in defiance of the pending litigation, causing ongoing harm to my client's property interests. We're requesting a temporary restraining order to cease business operations until the property boundaries can be definitively established through the court-ordered independent survey."

She sat down, confident she'd made her case.

Judge Morrison turned to our table. "Mr. Caldwell, your response?"

I stood, carrying my tablet to the podium. "Your Honor, this emergency motion is not about protecting property interests. It's about using the legal system to cause financial damage when other tactics failed."

I pulled up the timeline on the courtroom display. "Three weeks ago, Mr. Hutchins accelerated a sale deadline to February 28th—conveniently timed right on Sweetheart Week, the island's most lucrative tourism event. A week ago, we filed evidence of fraud in the boundary survey. Then you ordered an independent survey to verify our allegations. And now, suddenly, there's an emergency requiring Ms. Romano's business to be shut down immediately."

I advanced to the next slide—the surveyor's notation about the adjusted baseline. "This isn't coincidence, Your Honor. This is strategy. When the fraud allegations threatened to expose the coordinated campaign against Ms. Romano's bakery, opposing counsel filed this emergency motion to cause the maximum financial damage possible before the truth comes out."

Victoria Curtis stood. "Objection. Mr. Caldwell is making allegations without evidence—"