Page 1 of Arranged To Be Mine

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BEAU

The plaintiff’s council slid his hands into the pockets of his five-thousand-dollar suit pants. He rocked back on his heels and delivered his closing remarks with the sort of casual indifference of a man who knew just how good he was in the courtroom.

But I was better. And about to prove it.

“Jack Montana is a lot of things.” I rose, buttoning my Blackwell Couture suit jacket and stepping out from behind the table where my client remained seated. Jack tracked me with his eyes while he leaned back in his chair and stroked his jaw with his forefinger and thumb, a nervous tic I’d come to notice over the past several weeks of working as his defense attorney. In this moment, he wasn’t the hotshot Hollywood actor who’d recently starred in Micah’s film, Breathless. He was a victim. And I was his redemption.

I met the eyes of each jury member as I approached the jury box.

“He’s an international acting superstar. Loving husband. Philanthropist.” Another beat as I made eye contact with a few of the women before moving back to Number Four. “But one thing he is not… is a llama farmer.”

A ripple of soft laughter moved through the box. A couple of people bit down on smiles. Number Four’s mouth twitched and she looked down at her hands clasped in her lap.

“It’s ridiculous when you say it out loud, isn’t it?” I nodded like I was agreeing with myself. “Jack Montana isn’t running an illegal llama farm out of his Hollywood mansion.” A few heads moved with me. That was good. That was exactly what I wanted. “You can’t believe you’re hearing it,” I said, “just like I can’t believe I’m saying it.”

I let them sit with that for a moment.

“It’s ridiculous that you good people had to get up this morning, put on your nice clothes, take time away from your family and your work, drive into downtown Los Angeles, and show up here.” I shook my head like it was the worst thing in the whole damn world. To be fair, LA traffic was a tragedy.

“And why? Why are we all here?” I spread my arms and turned in a full, dramatic circle. When I turned back, they were all focused on me. Eating this shit up. “I’ll tell you why. Because Jack Montana’s neighbor cannot tell the difference between a handful of beloved family pets living on a private estate and an agricultural enterprise designed for profit.” I drooped my shoulders, my disappointment evident. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched the plaintiff’s table as Lou Corwin, sixty-something, silver-haired and filthy stinking rich, glared at me.

The only person he should be mad at was himself for wasting all this time and resources.

“Are llamas traditionally kept as pets on the grounds of a Hollywood mansion?” I asked, putting my hands up in a friendly gesture. “I think we all know the answer to that is no. But Jack Montana is not a traditional man. He’s a man in love.” I smiled and let that breathe. “He bought his wife, Chantilly, one llama, because she’d always wanted one and he’d move a mountain for her. She loved it. Naturally, he bought her another one. And yes, at present, there are ten llamas living on the Montana estate, but they are beloved pets. They have names. They have a dietary specialist. They have a vet who comes to the house.” I paused. “What they do not have is a sales listing.”

Number Seven, a middle school teacher, was definitely on my side. She nodded eagerly and white knuckled the straps of her purse. A llama sympathizer in our midst. Perfect.

“Mr. Corwin is a powerful man, and Corwin Gems is a household name. He is accustomed to getting what he wants, and when he doesn’t get it, he is capable of doing whatever it takes to make that problem go away.” I looked at his attorney and then back to the jury. “He used the full weight of his legal resources to bring this lawsuit.” My tone was filled with disgust. “A lawsuit built on baseless accusations in order to bully a husband and wife into giving up their beloved pets. I think we can all agree that Jack Montana is not intimidated by bullies.” I looked at Number Four again. “And neither are any of you.”

I walked the length of the jury box. “Our pets are family. These llamas, Carl and Cookie, they’re harmless. Little Coco and Cricket just want to have fun. Cleetus, Caramel, and Cotton love their human parents. Cinnamon and Clyde, yes, they ate some leaves, but we’ve proven those leaves were on the Montana property. And when Cheddar got a little frisky, it was in the privacy of his own yard.”

I couldn’t believe I remembered all the fucking names, but I didn’t get paid the big bucks for nothing. And watching the expressions on the jurors’ faces when I humanized the foul-smelling, spitting, mopheaded, gangly creatures told me I was so going to win this case.

“If you don’t like what you see happening on someone’s property, quit watching,” I looked directly at Corwin with that one. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you so much for your dedication to this court. I trust you all to make the right decision and to consider the wellbeing and happiness of the animals that are so loved on Mr. Montana’s private property.” I moved back to Jack’s side. “The defense rests.”

I unbuttoned my jacket again and sat down.

Jack leaned over. “Nailed it.”

I hid my smirk behind my hand and pretended to scratch my cheek. Some guys jumped out of airplanes for an adrenaline rush. Some climbed impossible mountain peaks.

I went to trial.

A courtroom and twelve pairs of eyes on me. That was what got my juices flowing.

I listened as the judge gave his instructions and then it was time for the jury to file out to start deliberations. I watched them go, cataloging every micro-expression.

“Come on,” I said to Jack, pushing back from the table. “Let’s get out of here.”

We made our way into the hallway, the courtroom doors swinging shut behind us. The marble floors echoed with footsteps and murmured conversations. Jack loosened his tie and let out a breath.

“Chantilly’s going to be pissed she missed this,” he said.

“Chantilly being here would have been a disaster and you know it.” I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms. “Half the jury would have been too busy judging her wardrobe. That first day nearly tanked our case.”