“I played in college,” the witness said. “Wide receiver. I was a lock for a top-ten draft selection until I tore a ligament and that was the end for me.”
“You must have caught some good ones in your time.” Now her voice was all warmth and sympathy, tinged with awe.
The witness’s eyes grew misty. “I miss those days.”
Plaintiff’s counsel objected on the basis of irrelevance, and the judge sustained. Zara walked back to her table and consulted her notes.
Was that it? He’d been expecting some theatrics, a smoking gun, or even a witness reduced to tears. Even without any legal training, he could see her cross-examination hadn’t elicited any particularly useful information, and yet she didn’t seem perturbed.
Zara bent down to grab something from her bag. “Hut!” She spun around and threw a foam football at the plaintiff, her shout echoing through the courtroom, freezing everyone in place.
The plaintiff shot out of his seat and took two steps to the side, hands in the air. “I got it. I got it.” With a jump he grabbed the football and held it up, victorious. His smile faded as he stared at the stunned crowd, clearly realizing what he’d just done.
“Objection.” Plaintiff’s counsel glared at Zara. “What was that?”
“I believe it’s called a Hail Mary pass.” Zara smiled at the judge. “No further questions.”
Jay’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he slipped out of the courtroom. Damn shame. He could have watched her all day.
* * *
? ? ?
Three Pesos was not the kind of place Jay usually went for quiet conversation. The upscale Mexican restaurant and saloon was a sensory overload of Mexican decor, music, conversation, and rich mouthwatering scents. Cacti and succulents, fake chili peppers, sombreros, baskets, and woven blankets were stuffed into every alcove and piled high on every shelf. A collage of Talavera plates juxtaposed with paintings of Mexico and faded prints of old Mexican films covered one yellow-stuccoed wall.
They joined the mix of suits, tourists, and casual diners in the booths. The focus at the bar was a vast lineup of mescals, but Zara had ordered a Mexican mai tai in a tall painted glass. She’d taken her hair down after settling her case and removed her suit jacket to reveal a sleeveless red top, the neckline dipping down to the crescents of her breasts. She wore a silver dragonfly necklace with a blue enamel center that sparkled in the overhead lights, and somewhere between the courthouse and the restaurant she had added a matching clip to her hair. If not for the fact she had brought her laptop to the restaurant, she could have been his date for the evening. The thought was not unpleasant.
“I watched your trial,” he said when they were settled. “I was surprised the judge allowed such an unconventional strategy.”
“I saw you lurking in the back.” Zara grinned. “I wouldn’t do that with any judge. Some of them are real sticklers for the rules and he rightly sustained opposing counsel’s objection. My purpose wasn’t to get his actions on the record. I wanted them to settle, which they did. They asked for an adjournment before the judge gave his judgment, and we got the offer we were hoping for.”
“Congratulations.” He appreciated the strategy behind the risk as much as the win.
“I’m in a celebratory mood. Be warned.” She pulled out her laptop, raising her voice over Vicente Fernández’s “Volver, Volver” playing over the tinny speakers.
Jay quickly whisked her glass out of the way, silently congratulating himself on averting a near disaster. In fact, he’d managed to keep her path clear all the way from the courthouse to the restaurant, walking slightly in front so that she could talk without having to worry about anything in her path. He felt a sense of pride at keeping her safe, like it was something he’d been born to do.
The waiter came by to take their orders. Zara chatted briefly with him, learning more about his life in a few minutes than Jay knew about most of the staff in his office. She made people smile, he realized, her genuine interest in people breaching walls he could never cross.
“I’ve put all my notes into my ‘Find Jay a Match’ document,” she said, peering over her laptop. “I have a few more questions about the kind of woman you’re looking for.”
“Ask me anything.” He sipped his drink, letting the bittersweet liquid linger on his tongue as he settled back in his seat.
“Active or not active? I’m guessing active since you’re a sports nut and look at you. Muscles all over. Not an ounce of fat. You’re a man who looks after yourself and I’d say you would like someone who values fitness, too.”