Courting Trouble (11 page)

Bobby’s eyes widened and the lines in his forehead deepened when he raised his eyebrows. “You think Savannah McGrath will get used to me being in Ash’s life?”

Changing a McGrath’s mind was as likely as making the sun revolve around the moon.

“I doubt it,” Cade said. “But when the judge issues the custody order, she is most certainly going to have to try.”

Chapter Eleven

The next day when Tulsa entered Judge Wilder’s courtroom with Savannah beside her, the room smelled like lemon oil and Pine-Sol. The maple-paneled walls glistened with the sunlight streaming through the windows and bouncing off the freshly cleaned wood. Tulsa flipped her curls over her shoulder. She stood at the defense table beside Savannah—the spot Tulsa thought Bradford Taylor intended to occupy.

Where
was Bradford?

Tulsa’s stomach churned. An oily feeling climbed through her gut. She
could
represent Savannah, but she shouldn’t. The courthouse door creaked and Tulsa’s heart finally resumed a normal pace—anticipating Bradford, with a thankful smile she looked over her shoulder. Her heart tumbled in her chest and the sick feeling in her belly hardened into a tight ball.

Tulsa’s eyes locked with Cade’s. He wore his game face—his eyes registered the barest hint of acknowledgement. The look made clear that in this room, Tulsa was nothing but an adversary. With two deep breaths, she forced her agitation away—fear—surprise—anxiety—slid from her face. Cold. Calm. Calculated. She too could play the dead-faced litigator game.

“All rise,” the bailiff called from the side door. “Court will come to order. The Honorable Judge Vincent Wilder presiding.”

Savannah nudged Tulsa with her elbow. “Isn’t my attorney supposed to meet us?”

Everyone stood as the judge entered and Tulsa scanned the courtroom once more, hopeful that by some miracle Bradford Taylor had shimmied up a drainpipe and appeared through the courtroom window. She was licensed to practice law in Colorado and in California, and there was nothing prohibiting her from representing Savannah, nothing but… Tulsa slid her eyes to the left and examined Cade’s stern profile… nothing but kissing opposing counsel.

Judge Wilder took his seat on the bench. “Are all the parties present?”

“Cade Montgomery for Bobby Hopkins, the father, Your Honor.”

Judge Wilder opened the file before him. “And you? Who are you?” He appraised Tulsa over the rims of his spectacles.

“I’m Tulsa McGrath, Your Honor—”

“The hotshot attorney from Los Angeles?” Judge Wilder squinted. “The one who went to high school with my daughter?”

“Yes,” Tulsa said. “Well, no. I mean…” Tulsa fumbled for her words, something she never did in a courtroom.

“Well, which is it? Yes or no?” Judge Wilder asked, impatient for her response.

“Yes, Your Honor, I do live in Los Angeles and yes, I did go to school with your daughter. But no, Your Honor, I wouldn’t characterize myself as a hotshot. I—”

“Fair enough.” Judge Wilder pulled Tulsa’s entry of appearance from the file before him. “Now, I see that you, Miss McGrath, are the attorney of record for your sister in this custody matter. Is that correct?”

Tulsa brushed her fingertips across the sides of her skirt, flattening out nonexistent wrinkles. Was it correct? Was she representing her sister? Tulsa didn’t think so. Between berating opposing counsel over the custody petition and then their liplock, she didn’t think it prudent to represent Savannah in this case.

“Uh… I’m not sure.”

“Not sure?” Judge Wilder leaned forward and removed his glasses. “Not sure if you filed the entry of appearance or not sure if Savannah McGrath is, in fact, your sister?”

Tulsa flushed red. She felt like a first-year associate with a brand-new law license.

“Your Honor, Savannah McGrath is my sister. But—”

“Well, Ms. McGrath, I know from what I see on television that you’ve gained some knowledge in family law,” Judge Wilder shot out at her. “But the number-one rule for any attorney is never represent your own family. I do not look kindly on attorneys with the hubris to believe that they can represent family with the calm detachment necessary for a fair proceeding. Surely, Miss McGrath, you don’t believe that in a custody case for your niece you will be able to keep your emotions separate, do you?”

Heat ripped up Tulsa’s neck and flooded her face. Her insides twisted. “Your Honor, I agree that it would be difficult and if you would perhaps pass the case until—”

The courtroom door burst open and Judge Wilder’s gaze darted past Tulsa. Her heart flipped in her chest with the sight of Bradford, his hair the color of fresh-cut wheat, striding up the aisle toward the judge. He wore a hand-cut dark gray suit and Italian shoes. His bright blue eyes danced. Tulsa’s breathing deepened and she couldn’t hide the relief-riddled smile stamped on her face.

“Sorry, I’m late, Your Honor. The weather looked good, but then I had to make a detour around a cumulus just above Dillon.”

“Mr. Taylor, I didn’t expect to see you today. Come to meet the famous attorney, Miss Tulsa McGrath?”

With an impish grin, Bradford walked past the bar. Once by her side, Bradford leaned over and whispered, “Sorry I’m late.” He flashed a mouthful of bright white teeth at Tulsa and winked. His mischievous gaze bounced back toward Judge Wilder. “I did indeed, Your Honor, and to represent her sister.”

Bradford definitely knew how to make an entrance.

“Your Honor, my office faxed you my entry of appearance early this morning.”

“They did?” Judge Wilder sorted through the papers in the file and then looked at his clerk. She nodded. “Where is it?” Judge Wilder asked.

“Paper-clipped to the front of the file,” the clerk said and continued typing on her computer keyboard.

Judge Wilder pulled the sheet off the front of the file.

“Your Honor, I represent Miss Savannah McGrath, not to be confused with Miss Tulsa McGrath—”

“Oh, I won’t confuse them,” Judge Wilder interrupted and peered over his glasses. “Tulsa’s the one that got my daughter drunk her junior year. It wasn’t Savannah, most definitely was Tulsa.”

Tulsa cringed with the memory of dumping a very drunk Jill on Judge Wilder’s doorstep at midnight so Tulsa could get home in time for curfew.

“Miss McGrath, seems you’ve more brains than I thought. A family member represented by a family member has both a fool for a client and an attorney.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Tulsa pursed her lips. “I think.”

Again, Tulsa’s eyes slid toward Cade, standing beside the plaintiff’s table. He’d handed her a break by telling Tulsa that she was a fool to represent Savannah. He could have used her mistake to his advantage, but instead he’d saved her.

“Well then, Miss McGrath, if you aren’t representing your sister, you’re standing in the wrong place.”

Tulsa returned her gaze to the judge and tilted her head. “Excuse me?”

“The defense table. Since you are no longer the attorney of record, I believe you need to be
behind
the bar.”

Behind the bar?
An unfamiliar and uncomfortable place for her. Tulsa slowly backed through the swinging wooden gate to the spectator seats.

“All right,” Judge Wilder continued. “Now that we know who is representing who and we’re all in our assigned seats. I’ve read both the pleading and the response. Mr. Taylor, is there anything you’d like to add to these proceedings before we move forward?”

“Your Honor, I’m familiar with both the original pleading and Miss McGrath’s response, which I believe is adequate.”

“Good. What I’m going to do is set this matter over and see if you all can’t come to some kind of custody agreement on your own.” Judge Wilder scribbled in the file before him. “If you can’t sort this thing out, we will be having a hearing.” Judge Wilder stopped writing and looked at both parties. “And believe me when I tell you I do
not
want to have a hearing. Am I clear?”

Judge Wilder’s gaze landed first on Bobby, who held his Stetson in his hands. His face from the side seemed calm—if not for constant turning of Bobby’s hat in his hands, no one would realize his nervousness. Bobby nodded his head in response to the judge, letting Wilder know he’d heard not only the judge’s words but the seriousness in his tone. Next, Judge Wilder turned his gaze to Savannah. She stood beside Bradford and from where Tulsa sat she could see Savannah’s chin tremble. 

“In the meantime, I see the minor, whose custody is in contention, is a freshman and will turn fifteen this year. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Bradford said.

“Well then, I think the little lady ought to get a say in this matter. I’ve found that teenagers don’t like to speak to their parents—at least mine didn’t. So I’m going to appoint a
guardian ad litem
. Any objections?” Judge Wilder looked around the room. “We’ll address the findings at our next date. But people, let me encourage you to be reasonable. It would be a good thing for your daughter if you could come to an agreement that didn’t require her to testify. Do you get my meaning?” Judge Wilder’s stern gaze and jutted jaw seemed an attempt to will both parents to forget their own egos and think about Ash.

“Anything else?”

Cade stepped forward from the plaintiff’s table. “Judge Wilder? There’s one more thing.”

Tulsa’s heart ticked upward. The knot in her belly that had relaxed with the appearance of Bradford retightened.

“And that would be?”

“A visitation schedule for my client—”

“Objection!” The word flew from Tulsa’s mouth without hesitation—an automatic response like a quick kick after a doctor taps your knee. With a silent thud, every pair of eyes in the courtroom, including Judge Wilder’s, landed on Tulsa.

Heat burned her cheeks and she clenched her hands into tight balls at her sides.

“Perhaps I need to refresh your recollection of the protocols in a courtroom, Miss McGrath.” Judge Wilder’s eyes narrowed and his already-wrinkled forehead grew tight with displeasure. “If you are not the attorney of record then you may not object.”

Tulsa nodded.

“Are we clear?”

She took a breath and slowly settled to her seat under Judge Wilder’s heavy gaze. A grin ticked up the corners of Bradford’s mouth and he turned back toward the front of the courtroom.

“Your Honor, I believe that I must join Miss McGrath in her objection. There is no indication that Mr. Hopkins should be allowed to see his daughter. That she wouldn’t be at risk in some way with these visits.”

“Are you disputing paternity?” Judge Wilder asked.

“No, sir,” Bradford said.

“I’ll allow it,” Judge Wilder said.

A gasp flew from Savannah’s mouth and four fingertips covered her bottom lip.

“But only supervised visitation,” Judge Wilder added. “Mr. Montgomery, you’ll be responsible for your side. And Mr. Taylor, who will supervise the visits for your team? You can’t fly in from Denver every other day, and Ash’s mother won’t do.”

Bradford turned around and his eyes met Tulsa’s. “Will you do it?” he mouthed.

Tulsa nodded yes. No one would watch the interaction between Ash and Bobby as closely as she.

“Your Honor, Tulsa McGrath will supervise for the defense.”

“Fine,” Judge Wilder said. “Three visits a week. Supervised. Not to exceed two hours each. My clerk will draw up the papers.” The judge eyed both sides, daring either to ask for anything more. “We clear?”

With no response from either side, Judge Wilder let his gavel drop.

Chapter Twelve

Savannah’s sniffles were the main sound in the car all the way home from the courthouse. Tulsa tried to console her—to help her sister adjust to the idea of Bobby in Ash’s life, but Savannah remained silent and pressed her teeth into her bottom lip, making white half-moons in her skin. So lost in her own thoughts, Savannah had uttered not a word about Bobby’s request, made through Cade after court, to see Ash that very night. Once home, Savannah retreated to her workshop in the backyard, her eyes red rimmed and jaw locked tight.

Tulsa needed to fill the hours between now and six pm and work was her drug of choice. She settled her chin onto her hand and stared into her laptop screen.

“Tell me some good news,” Tulsa said.

“Well,” Emma responded, her voice quick and light, her cheeks buoyant with excitement. “We got the Holmby case!”

“That’s great,” Tulsa said. She pulled her lips upward in the semblance of a smile but doubted she fooled either of her partners with her pathetic attempt at enthusiasm. “Is she as crazy as everyone says?”

“Worse,” Jo said. Jo had no patience for the overindulged behavior of celebrities. “We have a problem.”

Of course we do.

Jo and Emma exchanged a look.

“She only wants you,” Emma said.

Tulsa scooted her hand from under her chin and up over her forehead. “I’m busy,” she said. “And not with anything fun.”

“We tried to explain the circumstances,” Emma said.

“But she’s a whiny pain in the ass,” Jo added.

Emma shot Jo a quick look containing both patience and reprimand.

“Ash’s case will take at least another three weeks,” Tulsa said. Her elbow remained on the table and she settled her ear onto her fist. “Maybe more. It’s not looking good.”

“Supervised visits?” Emma’s voice was soothing and soft.

Tulsa nodded. Judge Wilder’s decision was standard for most contested custody cases, but it was neither the outcome Tulsa would have chosen nor one that Savannah seemed willing to accept.

“And I get to supervise,” Tulsa said.

“At least it’s you,” Jo said. “Maybe you can nail the deadbeat for something before the hearing.”

“Maybe,” Tulsa said and pulled her eyebrows together. “Jo, would you have Sylvia do a little digging? I’ll email you the information I’ve got on Bobby.”

“I’ve still got contacts at the DA and at the Bureau,” Jo said and tapped a note into her iPad.

“And Cade?” Emma asked. Her voice contained a hopefulness. Always a romantic, did Emma think that Tulsa and Cade could somehow leap the insurmountable hurdles in their lives and possibly reconcile? If Emma knew the exact details of the hard past between Tulsa and Cade, then she wouldn’t hold out hope for a happily-ever-after.