Free Jack with a Twist by Brenda Janowitz

one. That was the most calm as I could muster, given the circumstances.
    “Sides?” my perfect fiancé said. “It’s not about sides, sweetie. It’s about our families coming together.”
    “You’re right, honey,” I said, “it’s not about sides.” And Jack was so right. It is so not about sides at all. It’s about our families merging into one. Even if his family does outnumber mine by an alarming ratio of four to one. “Right, Jack. I just meant that you need to agree with everything I say in front of your parents.”
    My perfect fiancé looked back at me and furrowed his brow.
    But, today in court, I will be in control. After all, I am a tough, no-nonsense attorney who does not take “no” for an answer. I am confident, intelligent and self-possessed. I am woman, hear me roar. See, with my can-do attitude, there is no way that I can lose in court today. Especially since it’s only an initial conference where we just cover administrative matters, so there’s actually no winning or losing to be had. And this isn’t the sort of case that ever goes to trial for actual winning or losing. It’s more of a transactional thing. Also, the judge assigned to my case is an old law school buddy of Jack’s dad.
    But, I’ll still roar if need be.
    As I enter the judge’s courtroom, I take a peek at the docket and notice something very odd. When I got notice of the countersuit, Monique’s husband had checked off the box to indicate that he’d be handling the matter pro se, meaning that he’d be his own attorney. It made sense to me at the time since a dissolution of partnership is so routine, but today he has a law firm representing him.
    My old law firm.
    “This must be a typo,” I say to the court deputy sitting at a long table in the front of the courtroom. When I say this to him, a tiny voice inside me realizes that it must be true, that my old law firm will, in fact, be opposing me in my first big case that I take the lead on. Which would also be the reason why Monique didn’t hire Vanessa. She knew that her husband would be using Gilson, Hecht. Still, I think that it can’t hurt to ask the deputy, maybe even flirt a bit, and earn myself a few brownie points with the judge’s staff.
    “No typo,” he says, without even looking up from his coffee, donut and New York Law Journal.
    “I’m representing Monique deVouvray and her husband is opposing the action pro se. ”
    “Pro se?” he says, looking very annoyed that I’ve distracted him from his breakfast. This is probably not the way to earn brownie points. I lean over his desk so as to show some cleavage, but it doesn’t really work since I’m wearing a turtleneck sweater. Maybe he’ll applaud the effort, anyway, though.
    “You know what?” I say, not wanting to piss off the man who controls the court’s calendar—and my fate on this case for the next couple of months. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll just figure it out when you call me.”
    “You must be Brooke,” a thick Southern drawl from behind me says. I turn around to see Miranda Foxley, an associate at Gilson, Hecht. I’ve never met her before, but her reputation precedes her. Word on the street—or at the Park Avenue law firms, as the case may be—is that she left her last law firm because she slept with a married partner. Happy as I am to see that the case is staffed only with a junior associate, and not a partner, it dawns on me that the whole flirt-with-the-staff-of-chambers strategy isn’t really going to work if Miranda Foxley is my opposing counsel.
    Standing five foot ten, Miranda looks more like a model than an actual lawyer. Her blazing red hair flows loosely around her shoulders, down her back and it makes my hand instinctively fly up to my own locks since it reminds me that I chopped my own long hair off just a few months ago. Which doesn’t really matter today anyway, since I have it back in a bun to look professional for court, but still. And she’s