Justify My Love: An Interracial Romance (BWWM) (6 page)

* * *

Waiting in the hall at the courthouse for her case to be called, Marnie overheard two women talking about some guy who had just joined their staff. She soon realized that they were from the DA’s office and were talking about Scott.

“Is he attached?” a tall blonde in a tailored blue suit inquired.

The other woman, a shorter brunette wearing a beige suit, shrugged her shoulders.

“Since when does that matter? Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

The blonde laughed. “I wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of that one. Did you notice how his suits hug that glorious body of his?”

“I ain’t blind, girlfriend. The face ain’t so bad, either. ”

“I didn’t get that high yet.”

“You’re so bad!” the brunette chastised.

“And I love every moment,” the blonde replied and both women shared a hearty laugh.

“Unbelievable,” Marnie said aloud to herself through a tightly clenched jaw. Just as she suspected, good ole Scott was busy charming his way up through the ranks. It had certainly worked with me, she thought. Perhaps most women react the same way to a handsome face and great body. She wouldn’t allow herself to become that weak again.

Her case was called and all thoughts of Scott and his sexual conquests were pushed from the forefront of Marnie’s mind. The proceedings were finished within ten minutes. John Heights, the client, was sentenced to six months, which was a fair sentence for his fraud conviction.
Too
bad all court cases weren’t handled as swiftly
, Marnie mused as she gathered her papers.
The system might have a chance of working if this happened more often.

Marnie stepped into the elevator. Just as she was about to press the button for the lobby, a hand reached in to block the doors from closing. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to pound as she recognized the school ring on that hand.

Scott stiffened with surprise, his eyes widening, as he saw Marnie standing there.

God, he looked great in a charcoal gray suit that brought out the silver in his eyes.
She felt her insides liquefy, but she fought the impulse to engage him. He’d two-timed her making him lower than a corpse’s blood pressure in her book. She turned away and stepped back from the control panel.

Scott’s expression had gone from surprise to something she couldn’t quite define before his eyes narrowed as he punched in the ground floor button.

She heard someone say, “Thanks for holding,” and was relieved when a man holding an attaché case got on.

The doors closed and they rode in silence to the ground floor. When the doors opened,

Marnie fled from the building not trusting her resolve.

* * *

Scott stood there watching her go. He could have kicked himself for not saying something in his own defense to her. Hadn’t he waited for such a chance? No. It was good that he didn’t make a fool of himself. She was being rigid and unreasonable. He should have been given the chance to explain what had happened. Yeah. He’d definitely dodged a bullet. So why had his cock stirred at the very sight of her? And why was she still under his skin like a bur? Worse, why was he torturing himself? She was only a damn woman and there were many more out there. So why allow her to get to him?

* * *

As Marnie drove back to the office, she forced her mind off of Scott and back to Marishka Kalb.

She wondered if Rick Thompson had called back with the report on John Kalb. She didn’t think he’d be able to dig up a great deal on the man, but whatever information he did find was one more piece that she had. She always viewed the people involved in her cases as puzzles. She tried to find the right pieces that made them tick, a traumatic experience or deprived childhood. Events often molded people causing them react in the manner they did. Also, especially with a volatile person like John Kalb, it would be in the best interest of Marishka Kalb for Marnie to know how he might react to a certain line of questioning or actions taken by her on her client’s behalf. In some cases, it could save lives, even though; there was no foolproof way to know. An educated guess is better than nothing at all. And to think her father once laughed at her for taking classes in psychology.

* * *

Debbie was on the phone as Marnie passed going into her office, but handed her a pile of telephone messages. Sitting down at her desk, Marnie thumbed through the messages, selecting the most important ones to call first. She placed the one from Rick Thompson on top and began to dial his number as Debbie walked in with a cup of coffee for her.

Marnie smiled and mouthed, “Thank you.”

“You looked like you needed it.”

“Rick. Glad I got you before you left for the day.”

“You know I’m always here for
you
.”

“That’s what you keep telling me,” Marnie replied, playing along.

“Would I lie?”

“I hope not. It’s not nice.”

He chuckled.

“Did you find out anything on Kalb for me?”

“Not a whole lot, but what I have is interesting enough.”

“Give me the highlights.”

“Basically on the surface John Kalb is a respected man in the community, a regular church goer and family man. However, when you dig somewhat below that fine surface you find that he has had somewhat of a shadowy past. There’s one arrest for assault. It would seem he likes to knock around women. The charges were eventually dropped. The oldest of three children of Hungarian immigrants, his younger sister took her own life at the age of twenty, while his brother was killed in a fatal auto crash about ten years ago. Not much else to report I’m afraid.”

“I didn’t think there would be. Men like Kalb know how to slip through the cracks of justice. The assault charge might be useful, though.”

“I’ll send you the report—and the bill, of course.”

“Of course,” Marnie parroted with laughter in her voice. “Thanks, Rick.”

“No problem. For you, sweetheart,
anything
.”

After making a few more return calls, Marnie sat back and began to digest the information on John Kalb. It was obvious that he was a potential threat to Marishka and her children, especially her daughter. Painting a vivid picture of this for the judge would be her number one priority. Perhaps she’d be able to glean more information from the report.

Chapter Seven

The following morning, Marnie was rereading the report on John Kalb when Debbie brought her a fresh cup of coffee and her mail. She glanced up from the report and asked, “If women are supposedly smarter than men, why do we let them ruin our lives under the guise of love?”

“Whoa! That’s way too heavy a question for this time of day.”

“Probably for any time of day. I have a couple of appointments you’ll have to reschedule for me. I’m leaving for court soon.”

“Should I move them to this afternoon or tomorrow?”

“Either day is fine. Leave it up to the client.”

“You already know the answer to the question.”

“Huh? Oh, the question. I do?”

“Any woman who has ever been in love does. Love does crazy things to a woman.”

“Yeah. It messes with her hormones—big time.”

“You can say that again,” Debbie added and they both laughed.

“Then becoming serious, Marnie asked, “Are there any
real
men left out there?”

“Depends on what you mean by real.”

“Men who aren’t afraid to commit. Men who are honest. Men…Oh, I don’t even know what I mean anymore.”

“There are lots of men out there. Some are bad, but there are still many good ones left. You may think they’re in hiding, but they’re not. They’re really out looking for decent women. Trust me.”

“I’d like to. Just consider yourself lucky.”

“I do. My Fred’s a gem. He only has eyes for me.”

“So the blinders work?”

Debbie laughed. “You bet your sweet ass they do. By the way, there’s a postcard from your parents in that pile.”

Marnie quickly looked through the mail and pulled it from the pile.

“Why wouldn’t they send it to your apartment?”

Marnie made a short snorting noise. “That would be way too caring.”

“Come now, Marnie, you know your parents are proud of you.”

“Thanks, Deb, but you know that’s far from the case. They’re way too busy worrying about themselves. The little that’s left over goes to my brother and sister.”

“Well, they should be bragging about their daughter’s achievements.”

Marnie shrugged. It had taken a long time, but she was finally able to deal with the hurt. Oh, it still bothered her, but she pushed it from mind. So what if she sometimes felt tossed aside like some old shoe. She could handle it. After all, she’s had lots of practice.

Marnie read the card and tossed it into the wastebasket. “Nothing important. At least nothing
I
should care about.”

Debbie pursed her lips and returned to her desk as Marnie finished reading the report on Kalb. There was a great deal that could be read from between the lines. Too bad it was all conjecture. For all she knew, he could have molested his younger sister. That could have helped to put her over the edge and eventually caused her to take her own life. He probably has a propensity towards young girls, but hasn’t been caught and prosecuted for it—yet.

Marnie gathered her things and drove over to the courthouse. She had a pretrial conference with the judge and opposing attorney concerning one of her other cases. Supposedly this was to help facilitate the trial by narrowing the issues. It usually gave her a feel for where the other side was heading. This was an inheritance case caused by the greed and jealousy of a most dysfunctional family. The scent of money did strange things to people. She knew that first hand from the actions of her own family.

The conference took almost two hours. Judge Neiman was obviously not happy with the case or the people involved. Knowing this, Marnie would tread carefully and make sure she didn’t step on his toes. The other lawyer appeared to be an aggressive woman around Marnie’s age who wanted to score big and make her mark. Marnie hoped her zeal would cause her to make mistakes. Frank had taught her to use these conferences as a learning tool. It was always wise to “know one’s enemy”.

Coming out of the judge’s chambers Marnie felt her pussy clench as she spied Scott Langley talking to a pretty, dark-haired woman. She was holding a briefcase so Marnie assumed she was a lawyer. He was impeccably dressed in a dark-gray suit and looked as handsome as ever. She hadn’t gotten over seeing him yesterday and felt like a fool standing and watching, unable to pull her eyes away. She’d have to move or he’d see her—oh, God, too late as his eyes locked on hers. She felt her mouth grow dry as her heart skipped a beat in her chest. He’s not worth it, she reminded herself. Yet, her eyes remained on him. When the woman rubbed his back in a possessive manner, the spell was broken. Marnie fled having seen quite enough.

Even though Marnie tried to leave Scott behind on the shelf labeled “history” alongside Jason, she still found herself thinking about him more often than not. She often wondered where he was and how he was doing. Now she knew. Obviously it
was
a good thing that she never allowed herself to get involved with him. She’d only have been a number. In retrospect, his standing her up at the restaurant had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. As she walked to her car, she became more convinced she was right and glad she’d pulled herself out of those murky waters before she went under.

She’d immerse herself in her work. The terrain was always safer there.

* * *

Seeing Marnie at the courthouse brought back all the unresolved feelings Scott had about her. She looked great. How he wanted to rush over and crush her to him. He’d devour those luscious lips of hers and make her listen to what went down the night of their dinner date. No. She should have heard him out and given a chance to explain back then. Her willfulness reminded him of Connie. And there was no way he’d go down that road again for any woman.

Chapter Eight

As if Scott didn’t have enough to worry about at work with the ever-increasing caseloads, Angel had been picked up for prostitution. Like this was a surprise. How else would she have come up with the money to support her expensive coke habit? He wondered how long she’d been selling her body. The entire situation sickened him. He got the call, of all times, just before he was to have a conference with Edward Chalmers, the DA, aka the Old Man.

Chalmers didn’t come to the District Attorney’s office with that moniker, but being the DA for the last 12 years, grew into it. A tall man in his early sixties, his hair was more gray than not, though it made him look distinguished, not old. Having had a reputation for being relentless and thorough, he expected nothing less from his subordinates.

Scott had made up his mind. This time when his stepsister, Angel appeared before the court, he was going to get her into a rehab program whether she liked it or not. She was a menace to herself and he was not going to allow her to take him down along with her. Not like her mother…

Suddenly Scott felt a sharp pain in his gut, as if he were being eviscerated. He always felt this way whenever he thought of Daisy, Angel’s mother. He’d never known a woman like her before she intruded into his life at the age of sixteen.

His father, David, a recovered alcoholic, met Daisy while she was working as a waitress to support her small daughter and herself. They began to date. As far as Scott knew, his father hadn’t been with another woman since his mother had died four years before.

As the years rolled back in his mind, Scott began to relive every gritty detail. Daisy was a beautiful woman who turned the heads of every man she passed and she knew how to capitalize on it. When she moved, their bodies responded to her, just as the mere memory of her was doing to Scott.

When his father was reinitiated into the joys of sex by this woman, he seemed to transform into a new man, younger in outlook. But she muddled his mind to the point all he thought about was her. He’d forgotten he had a business to run and a son to provide for. Too bad the woman turned out to be insatiable and set her sights on more than just David Langley.

At first Daisy was subtle. Scott would accidentally find her in various state of undress. He didn’t take the bait, though, his embarrassment still capable of overpowering his arousal. To him, she was his father’s wife. Unfortunately, Daisy had set her sights on seducing him and wouldn’t give up until she finally got him into her bed.

It was a Wednesday. How could he forget? He’d come home from school tired and frustrated. He’d finally got the courage to ask Sarah Bennings out, but she’d already accepted a date with Joe Johnson. This was the second time she’d turned him down. This was a crushing blow to the ego of a sixteen-year-old.

When he walked into the kitchen Daisy appeared out of nowhere wearing a flimsy black-lace nightgown.

“What’s the matter, Scottsy-whotsy?”

How he’d hated when she called him that. He ignored her and grabbed the carton of milk out of the refrigerator. Taking a glass and a box of cookies out of the pantry, he sat down at the table.

“You can tell me,” she purred coming behind him and massaging his tightly knotted shoulders.

At first he tried to pull away, but her closeness and the smell of her perfume went to his head. As her hands began to slip down his chest, he turned his head to protest, but her lips covered his. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth. A moment later, she had slid down the zipper of his jeans and was stroking him. It all happened so fast. Before he realized it, he was in bed with her and she was initiating him into ways of sex he hadn’t known existed. She didn’t have to trick him into her bed again, because he was the one who came back for seconds.

Unfortunately, by the time he realized that Daisy had gotten under his skin, he also discovered she was sleeping with the gardener and any other male with a hard dick whose path crossed hers. The last thing in the world Scott wanted to do was hurt his father. He had already betrayed him by sleeping with his wife. There was no way he could tell him about the gardener or the others without Daisy revealing his own treachery. Totally disgusted with himself, he decided to break it off with her.

Daisy was a cruel woman and got a great deal of pleasure out of making the men she slept with miserable. She surmised by the way Scott was acting that he wanted to stop having sex with her. Always wanting to be the one calling the shots, she decided to get even with him and hurt his father, as well. A few nights before she went on a bender with a car salesman, she set up a scenario that would destroy David’s relationship with his son forever.

David came home to find Daisy, sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a glass of whiskey. “Where’s Scott?”

“Out—not that I care.”

Catching her acidic tone, he asked, “What’s wrong, Daisy?”

“It’s Scott.” She took a long sip of whiskey.

“What
about
Scott?”

Suddenly, she buried her face in her arm and began to sob.

“What’s happened to Scott?” David pressed alarm evident in his voice.

“You won’t believe me.”

“Why? What’s he done?” David clutched her arm, nearly spilling the whiskey.

“He’s forced himself on me—more than once. You’ve got to make him stop!”

“Scott?” David began to laugh. “He wouldn’t know what to use his cock for.”

“See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me. That’s exactly what he said.”

David couldn’t imagine his son coming on to Daisy, let alone, forcing himself on her.

And yet, he’d never seen Daisy this agitated and upset. True, she was a most passionate woman, but her passion was reserved for between the sheets. Nothing else truly rattled her—until now.

“I can’t take it much longer,” she wailed, bringing David back from his thoughts.

“When do these incidents take place?” David asked.

“When you work late. Monday’s and Wednesdays. Around 4:00.” She grabbed his hand.

“Make him stop. Please. I love only you.”

David stroked her face. “I will tend to it.”

She clutched at him. “Promise me!”

“I said I would,” David said and turned to go, but she pushed herself into his arms, rubbing him until he’d grown hard enough to want her.

The following day, Daisy pretended to be ill and tricked Scott into bringing tea into her bedroom. When David found her and Scott together, he didn’t bother to ask questions. All he saw was red. He grabbed his son and slugged him, nearly breaking his jaw. Scott tried, but couldn’t reason with him. He’d realized what Daisy had done, but there was nothing he could do. The terrible look on his father’s face would haunt him forever. What was worse, David Langley never spoke to his son again.

Scott decided to let Angel stew in jail a little while longer until the Old Man ended the meeting. He did it out of anger and convenience, not because he thought she’d learn anything from it.

When he finally arrived at the police station nearly three hours later and secured her release, Angel was furious. He could see it on her face. If she narrowed her eyes any more, they’d disappear, altogether. Neither of them spoke until they were in the car.

“What took you so long?” Angel said, her pointed jaw set.

“Your timing was off, princess. I was in the middle of an important meeting.”

“This place ain’t no palatial palace, ya know.”

“You don’t seem to get enough of it, though,” he fired back at her.

“I got bad luck.”

“Not luck, habit. I’m getting you into rehab. It’s time you cleaned up your act.”

“Why? So you can get rid of me?”

“I don’t want to get rid of you. I want to see you straighten out and clean up your act.”

“Yeah, tell that to the judge. You hate me.”

“It’s not you that I hate, but the way you live, what you’re doing to yourself.”

“Why should you care? They didn’t.”

“Do it for yourself.”

Angel made a face. Opening her purse, she took out a cigarette.

“Don’t light that in the car.”

Angel slid the cigarette back into the pack. “When are you going to let me run my own life?”

“You want to ruin it, not run it. You’re making self-destruction an art form.”

“I’m getting pretty tired of all your sanctimonious lecturing.”

“So why don’t you take my advice, Angel and get clean?”

“I’m not going into rehab.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You need help.”

“I don’t need anybody’s help—especially yours!”

“Damn it, Angel! Why don’t you get a gun and shoot yourself? It’s quicker.”

“See, you
do
hate me. I knew it!” She screamed at him.

“I don’t. I just don’t know what to do with you. You wear me out.” Scott told her.

“Well, if I split you won’t have to worry then, will you?” she said, opening the door as they came to a red light.

“Angel, don’t go!” Scott exclaimed, as he reached out to grab her.

But she was too quick and his protest fell on deaf ears. By the time he pulled to the side of the road to go after her, she had disappeared.

“Damn!” Scott said aloud, admitting defeat as he got back into the car. “Damn! Damn! Damn!” he shouted, pounding his fists on the steering wheel. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen.