Justify My Love: An Interracial Romance (BWWM) (21 page)

BOOK: Justify My Love: An Interracial Romance (BWWM)
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Chapter Thirty-Eight

 

It took the jury three days to come to a unanimous decision. For Marnie it felt like thirty days. She hated the wait. The longer the wait, the less confidence she felt as anxiety chipped away at it, hour-by-hour. When she was called with the news the jury had reached a verdict, her stomach liquefied. Up until the actual verdict was read her nerve endings would remain exposed and raw. The damage had been done and nothing could change that.
Time to face the
music
, she thought as she steeled herself to drive to the courthouse. She met Frank and Victor DeMarco outside the courtroom. They’d been waiting for her.

Victor DeMarco nodded to her as she joined them. “I guess this is it. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that everything hangs on this one moment.”

“Try going through this all the time, Victor,” Frank said.

“I don’t know how you two do it,” he said shaking his head. “It’s pure torture.”

Marnie reached over and touched DeMarco’s shoulder lightly. “Look, Victor, if things don’t go our way, I promise we’ll appeal.”

Victor shook his head. “No. You did the best you could for me. I doubt if anyone else could have done half as well. No. This is it for me. I need it to be over. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, I do. I really do,” she replied.

“Let’s go inside,” Frank suggested and the three of them entered the courtroom, which crackled with tension as the noise level buzzed with hotly debated conversations.

She pushed open the door. Marnie couldn’t help but notice that most of the conversations ended and the room hushed as they made their way to their seats behind the defense table.

Scott was writing something done on his legal pad, but Blondie glared at her.

“All rise,” the bailiff said.

Everyone in the courtroom stood as Judge Hewitt entered and sat down when the judge was seated. This was it, Marnie thought to herself. Every hour, every day of preparation that had gone into this trial now hinged on this moment.

“Madame Foreperson, have you reached a verdict?” the judge asked a woman in her late thirties with long black hair held back with a hair clip. Marnie noticed her hands holding the paper with the verdict were trembling.

“We have, Your Honor.” She handed the charge slip to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge. The judge glanced at it quickly and handed it back to the bailiff who in turn passed it back to the foreperson.

“Will the defendant please rise,” Judge Hewitt said. Marnie, Frank and Victor DeMarco rose from their seats.

“The foreperson will now read the verdict,” the judge instructed.

“In the case of the State of New York versus Victor DeMarco for the unlawful death of Marie DeMarco, we find the defendant
not guilty
.”

The courtroom erupted in a rush of noise.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Jury nullification. But no matter. The judge is apparently good with it and an acquittal by any means is a win in my book,” Frank said to Marnie who was now beaming with relief and joy.

Victor grabbed Marnie’s hands and hugged her. “Thank you!” Then he shook Frank’s hand. “Thank you, both.”

The judge banged his gavel down several times before the courtroom quieted again. “The charges against Victor DeMarco are dropped.”

Victor turned to Marnie. “I never thought this was possible.”

“The people who sit on juries are human. Obviously, they felt you didn’t deserve the severe penalty that was required by the charge had they found you guilty or perhaps they disagreed with the law you’d been charged with breaking.”

“Maybe you should pinch me so that I know I’m not dreaming.”

“It’s real,” Marnie said.

“How can I ever thank you?”

“By moving beyond this. And paying my hefty bill, of course.”

Victor DeMarco laughed, but Marnie couldn’t miss the tears that had filled his eyes.

When Marnie looked across to the prosecution’s table it was empty. Frank tried to navigate the three of them outside as the media overtook them making their movement difficult. A half-dozen microphones were thrust in their faces. “Ms. Davis, were you surprised about the verdict?”

“Delighted is a better word. I’m glad we still possess compassion in this age of technology. My ex-client has a great deal to catch up on, so now if you’ll excuse us…”

“Mr. DeMarco! Wait! Another question!”

Frank kept ushering them forward. Then the media stopped following them and went back towards the courthouse. As they reached the parking lot, Marnie saw what had caught the attention of the media. They had caught up to Scott.

Frank and Marnie saw Victor DeMarco safely to his car and said their goodbyes. But he rolled down his window. “Ms. Davis.”

Both Marnie and Frank stopped walking and turned back to DeMarco. “You’re one hell of a lawyer. I hope your firm appreciates you. If they don’t, come and see me.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think they do.”

They watched him back out and drive off. “Come on Champ,” Frank said, “I’ll see you back at the office.”

As Marnie drove back to the office in triumph, she thought about Scott.
The verdict must
have devastated him
.
If there had been a way for us to get back together, her winning had
probably queered it
, she mused.
At least he had Blondie’s shoulder to cry on
, she thought, slamming her fist down on the steering wheel as her eyes filled with tears.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Nine

 

Now that the case was over, things got back to normal pretty quickly at the office. Marnie resumed her appointments and court appearances, including an arraignment of the son of one of Frank’s oldest friends. The twenty-year-old had hit a woman crossing the street while driving under the influence. Louise, Frank’s wife had called her the night before. Frank had come down with some kind of stomach virus and was stuck in the bathroom giving equal time to both his head and bottom. Picturing that in her mind nearly gave Marnie the giggles. Hearing him moan in the background helped her keep them in check.

“I appreciate you covering for him, Marnie.”

“He’d do the same for me.”

“He might never have to since you’re not as big a baby.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s really sick.”

“That he is, but the same illness is always worse when a man comes down with it.”

Marnie laughed. “I’ll call later to see how he feels.”

Oliver Wayne Jr. was arrogant and downright annoying. He was average height and on the thin side, possessing a head of thick brown hair. However, he wore his sense of entitlement like a badge. He was definitely in need of a radical attitude adjustment, or he’d end up alienating both the judge and jury at his trial and get the maximum penalty thrown at him. Hopefully, that would be Frank’s problem. Her task was getting him before the judge for a court date without any unintended consequences.

“For the last time, Oliver, try to seem remorseful. And for heaven’s sake, whatever you do, don’t antagonize the judge.”

“What are you getting so bent about? Frank said today was going to be a mere formality. Are you telling me different?”

“All I’m saying is that you’re going before a human being. Don’t irritate that person with your attitude.”

“Are you insinuating I have a ‘tude problem?”

“Yes. And it’s going to hurt you. I’m certain that Frank would have also cautioned you.”

“Well, maybe we should wait until Frank’s okay and find out?”

“That’s not an option. Wipe that smug look off your face and let’s go.”

He mumbled something under his breath, but followed Marnie into the courtroom.

Luckily for the both of them, the calendar was so log-jammed they were whisked in and out of the courtroom so quickly the judge hardly noticed his presence.

Marnie stopped off at the ladies’ room so she wouldn’t have to spend another painful minute with him. This was one client Frank could have
all
to himself.

The elevator was empty when the doors opened. Marnie walked inside, her mind on what she had scheduled for the rest of the afternoon. Suddenly a hand caught the closing door and a body pushed inside.

It was Scott Langley, of all people.

Her handed tightened around her briefcase as her heart jumped into her throat. Marine was not prepared for this encounter. She hadn’t seen him since Victor DeMarco was acquitted. She quickly reminded herself that he was most likely fine and dandy with Berenson and a bevy of other women around to console him. With her full calendar, Marnie had little time to think about him anyway. Besides, Frank told her that her name would be brought up at the next partners meeting.

That was her public face. Privately, that she was devastated their relationship was over. She had loved Scott and still did. She did her best to avoid thinking about him by immersing herself in her work. Knowing that Tara Berenson was busy licking his wounds upset her. Therefore to avoid the pain, she’d simply avoided the subject of Scott. Until now.

“Marnie! Uh, hello.” He appeared just as startled to find her there.

“Hello, Scott.” She purposely kept her eyes averted from his, afraid she’d drown in them.

“This is…quite…a surprise.”

She nodded, grappling with the unexpected warmth surging through her.

He rolled his lips. “I never got a chance to congratulate you.”

“My client won his own case when he took the stand.”

“Don’t minimize the job you did.”

Marnie felt her emotions churning. She fought the welling tears in her eyes, willing them not to fall. The last thing she wanted was to have Scott see her cry.

When the doors of the elevator opened, she mumbled a goodbye and fled.

* * *

With his throat raw with unsaid shouts of protests, anguish seared Scott’s heart as he watched Marnie disappear out the front doors of the courthouse. Just seeing and being near her again suddenly made him realize how much he missed her. Tara Berenson was a poor substitute for the real thing. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Sure, Marnie could be so downright irritating. And don’t forget stubborn, too. However, no matter what, he never stopped loving her, though watching her run off; he feared the worst—she might have stopped loving him.

* * *

Marnie got into her car and sped off, a suffocating sensation tightened her throat. Just seeing Scott had torn open the scab over her feelings. Several blocks later, her tears had blurred her vision and she could go no further, forcing her to pull to the side of the road where she leaned over the steering wheel and yielded to the compulsive sobs that now shook her.

The swell of pain grew beyond her tears. Marnie questioned her own actions.
Why did I run from Scott? Was it because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry? But, would he have gotten any pleasure from it? Or did I run because I was afraid I’d rush into his arms and beg him to hold me? And afraid he’d reject me.

As her tears continued to fall, Marnie wished she knew the answers to her own questions.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Forty

 

Marnie had a quick dinner. She had to attack the mound of dirty laundry that was overflowing from her hamper. Apparently each time she got involved in a lengthy trial, she neglected her laundry. Her dryer had still not been repaired. It was definitely time to move. She’d look for a condo this time. And one that boasted new appliances.

Angrily she dumped her clothes into a laundry bag and headed for the Laundromat. Her eyes filled with momentary tears when she realized the last time she’d been here she’d encountered Scott. Enough with the maudlin sentimentality she cautioned herself.

Marnie must have arrived at an off-hour because there were hardly any people at the Laundromat. This turned out to be a boon for her since she had enough dirty laundry to fill two washing machines. She sat down and opened a brief.

A short time later she heard, “Lady, your clothes are done.”

At first she thought she was imagining hearing that deep baritone that whispered to her in her dreams. She felt every nerve in her body tingle. She looked up. The washing machines faded away and all she could see was him.

“What are you doing here, Scott?”

“Do you think you’re the only one who likes to wear clean underwear? My damn washer broke.”

“I…thought…”

“What? That I followed you here? Really?”

She looked down, fingering the folder in her lap, terribly afraid to look directly into his eyes, half-wishing he’d go away. The other half wanted him to hold her.

“I need to know one thing, though,” he said coolly.

“What’s that?”

“Why did you run away from me in the elevator?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why?” Scott asked arching an eyebrow.

She pursed her lips. “Simply because there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Says who?”

“What does it matter? I’m sure you and Berenson are very happy.”

“What did you just say?”

Marnie realized she had vocalized what she’d been thinking.

Scott quickly closed the space between them and roughly grabbed her shoulders. “Is that what you think?”

Marnie turned away.

“Answer me, damn it! Do you actually think I could ever replace you with Tara?”

“I saw the way she looked at you.”

“Because you were too busy looking at her you didn’t see the way I looked at you.”

Marnie turned to face Scott again. His silver gaze glittered dangerously, then suddenly heated. Her whole body tingled.

“That’s right. Take a good look. Hear what my eyes are saying. Do you need an interpreter, Counselor?”

Not waiting for an answer, Scott drew her into his arms and kissed her. It was a passionate kiss that only Marnie’s heart could answer.

“I love you, Marnie. I’m not letting you get away again—not now—not ever.
Marry me
.”

A look of surprise crossed her face. She hadn’t been prepared for his declaration of love or a marriage proposal. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t weigh the evidence. Instead she read the love in his eyes and realized her heart had already reached its own verdict.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, Scott, I do love you so!”

Scott lifted her off her feet and twirled her around him. “I love you, Counselor.”

Then he put her down and said, “Now will you please take your damn clothes out of the washer so I can use it?”

Marnie looked at Scott’s suddenly stern expression. She pressed her lips together and then she began to laugh until the tears came. “Well then, we’ll just have to get matching his and hers washers and dryers, won’t we,” she replied, as she melted once more into his arms.

 

THE END

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