Free Appealed by Emma Chase Page B

stands.” I check my watch. “And now I have to go get my ass handed to me in court.”
    As I turn and walk out the door, I hear Stanton threatening to call Sofia’s mother.
    Sofia’s a badass, but she’s also a bit of a drama queen.
    â€œYou bring my mother into this, I’ll never forgive you!”
    And I can hear the wink in her husband’s voice. “Forever’s a long time, darlin’. I’ll take my chances.”
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    A couple of hours later, Kennedy has one of Justin Longhorn’s victims on the stand. She wrapped up the more technical part of her case yesterday, and while Sofia gave a strong cross-examination, damage was done.
    But not nearly as much as the damage that’s occurring right now.
    Because Kennedy—looking as delicious as a vanilla cupcake in her form-fitting cream suit—is questioning Eloise Potter. A tiny, gray-haired, soft-voiced, totally fucking adorable little old lady.
    She looks like my Gram-Gram. She looks like everyone’s Gram-Gram.
    By the time Kennedy’s done walking her through how she painstakingly pinched pennies all her life, to plan for her and Mr. Potter’s retirement—after she tearfully recounts the devastation and fear of seeing that life savings literally disappear—the jury is looking at my client like he’s the long-lost Menendez brother. They’re the monsters who blew both their parents away with shotguns just to get their hands on their inheritance, in case you weren’t sure.
    So, yeah—not good.
    â€œThat’s all for now, Your Honor,” Kennedy tells the judge.
    She smiles deviously right at me as she walks back to her seat behind the prosecution table. And when I inhale, that sweet, fruity scent gives me an instant semi.
    Fucking great. Now I have to cross-examine Mrs. Clause at half-mast.
    I take a deep breath and stand up, buttoning my suit. Then I smile warmly. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Potter, I’m Brent Mason.”
    She nods and smiles. “Hello, young man.”
    I step out from behind the table. “Mrs. Potter, did the detectives investigating this case tell you that your funds had been recovered?”
    â€œYes, they did, thank goodness. Harold and I were so relieved.”
    â€œI’m sure you were. And they also explained that your money would be returned to you?”
    â€œYes, that’s right.”
    I gesture to Justin, sitting meekly but attentive, in his schoolboy blue blazer and tan slacks, hands folded docilely on the table. “How do you feel about my client, Mrs. Potter? Knowing he’s just seventeen years old? Do you feel he should go to jail, that the rest of his life should be ruined because of one alleged adolescent mistake?”
    Kennedy jumps to her feet—like I knew she would. “Objection! The witness’s feelings about the defendant have no bearing on the facts of the case.”
    But this time, I’m ready for her.
    â€œMs. Randolph opened the door to the witness’s feelings when she asked about them in relation to Mrs. Potter’s discovery of the funds missing from her account, Your Honor.”
    Judge Phillips takes a moment to consider, then sides with me.
    â€œYour objection is overruled, Ms. Randolph.”
    Satisfaction pumps so hard in my veins it escapes in a low ha.
    Things go downhill pretty quickly after that.
    â€œDid you just ha me?” Kennedy hisses, like a wet cat.
    I turn, facing her full frontal. “No I didn’t ha you. That would be unprofessional.”
    â€œI definitely heard a ha .”
    â€œThen you’re hearing things, honey.”
    Her eyes flare, then narrow sharply. She speaks to the judge, but her gaze stays trained on me. “I request that Mr. Mason be disciplined by the court. For referring to opposing council in a derogatory fashion—”
    I step closer to her. “There’s nothing derogatory about honey .