Approaching the Bench Page 2

  Callum Hopkins is a smart-ass.

  Instead of getting angry, or threatening to fire him, I decide to play his game and allow the conversation to continue. “I’m not much of a sharer.”

  “You’re an only child then?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, his dark hair falling to the side of his forehead.

  “I am, actually,” I say. It hits me then that if he read about me, he might already know more details about me than I’m comfortable with. “However, you probably already read that online, didn’t you?”

  It also means he knows what happened to my family.

  Everyone loves to talk about that. People love tragedy, those are the stories that get the most attention, and the fact that I lost my parents in a plane crash is something I’ve found most people are interested in. They read it just like another fascinating fact about me, but it’s obviously a lot more than that. It was the day I lost everything, the day my life was destroyed.

  He ducks his head and admits, “I may have seen that somewhere.”

  “Then why make it a question instead of a statement?” I ask, calling him out on it.

  “Maybe there are some things I want to hear from you, instead,” he replies, studying me with those emerald-green eyes.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have snooped online then,” I fire back, and glance down at the paperwork in front of me. “You have plenty of work to do, Callum, get to it.”

  He wants to get to know me more? That’s not how this works. He’s no longer working in a law firm, where everyone acts as a unit and they’re all friends who have drinks after work or catch up on the weekends.

  This is on a whole different level.

  He takes the hint and gets back to work, and I for one am grateful. No one here has ever tried to get to know me on a personal level before; we’re all here for work, and work only.

  And Callum is no different.

  chapter 3

  CALLUM

  THEY CALL HER MEDUSA behind her back, but I don’t see it. She’s not heartless; she just seems to be a little standoffish, strictly business and tightly wound. And the only thing she turns to stone is my cock, because the woman is fucking beautiful with her ethereal appearance, silky long red hair, and pale blue eyes that look right through you. Maybe that’s where the nickname came from, because those eyes are something else. Judge Williams has a reputation, and I can see why. She is firm, no-nonsense, and gives nothing away with her tone or expression, but when you look into the details behind her verdicts you realize how fair she is and how much she takes into consideration everyone’s individual circumstances. I know how it feels to lose a parent. It changes you. And she lost both of hers. I have Justin and my dad, but according to what I read online, when she lost her parents in the plane crash, no one stepped up to take her in, so she was put into foster care.

  She’s come up against all odds, and risen to the very top.

  She’s both incredible and deadly.

  I find myself unable to look away from her. She’s not what I expected at all, especially with all the rumors I’d heard about her. She’s so accomplished, wise beyond her years, yet she looks very young, so fragile and feminine. I don’t know when Judge Williams smiled last, but maybe that’s why she has no wrinkles on her flawless face. I glance back down at the paperwork in front of me as she lifts her pale-blue gaze, not wanting her to catch me staring. I shake my head, as if clearing my thoughts. I’ve always liked my women a little on the mean side. The strong, mouthy, sassy, opinionated ones, but this is on a whole different level. Judge Williams—Trinity—is possibly the most influential, powerful woman I will ever meet, and she already doesn’t like me much, so I just need to keep my head down and prove that I’m here because I deserve to be. If she gives me a good reference at the end of this, I’ll be over the fucking moon. I glance down at my phone on my lap and open a message I received on silent.

  How’s Medusa?

  I ignore Hunter, the family lawyer at Bentley & Channing, and continue reading the case documents in front of me.

  How is Medusa?

  I glance up at her.

  She’s fine, that’s how she is.

  And unattainable. And my boss. Completely out of my league.

  And it’s never going to fucking happen.

  Even though she already told me to get back to work not even twenty minutes ago, I find myself wanting to talk to her a little more. For her to give me something, anything.

  “Would you like a coffee?” I ask her. Women love men doing shit for them, right?

  She lifts her head and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Sure, that’d be nice.”

  I nod and stand, heading to the small coffee machine placed on the long wooden table. I know how she likes her coffee. Black. Like her heart. I grin at my internal joke, even though just before I was defending her in my head, and make the coffee. She glances up at me as I hand it to her.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs, our fingers slightly brushing. She clears her throat, then asks, “How are you doing with the research? Do you have any questions?”

  I have plenty of questions, but none of them are about the research. I know she’s trying to make it clear that we are to discuss work and work only, but that’s not how I want it to be. I shake my head. “I’ve got this, thanks. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you though.”

  I push aside the dirty thoughts that flash through my mind and sit back down, forcing myself to concentrate.

  This is your dream, Callum. Your one chance. Don’t fucking mess it up, especially over a woman.

  Pep talk in mind, I get back to work.

  “SO DID YOU FIND out who Justin cheated on?” Eddie asks me, ripping the label off his beer, his brown eyes narrowing in concentration. He fixed the car for me at no cost, and like I’d guessed, found the whole thing extremely amusing. He’s known Justin ever since he was a baby, so he treats him like his own younger brother. We usually spend our Saturday afternoons together, hanging out and talking shit. We’ve been doing this since high school—some things will never change, and our friendship is one of them.

  I puff out a breath and shake my head. “Nope. He’s claiming innocence until proven guilty.”

  Eddie makes a scoffing sound and lifts his head. “This isn’t your fancy courts, Callum, this is high school. You know what that’s like.”

  “Yeah, and I remember you getting into trouble with the ladies a few times,” I point out, smirking. “Didn’t you get punched in the face once?” The two of us met in elementary school when we were about six years old and have been good friends ever since. He was my partner in crime all through high school, and if anyone knew any embarrassing stories about me, it’d be him. We stayed close even when I went to college and law school, while he decided to start a mechanic apprenticeship instead, following his love of cars.

  He takes a sip, lip twitching. “Yeah well, no one spray-painted my ride. And yeah, there might have been a gentle slap senior year. But only because she kissed me but then realized I didn’t want to make her my girlfriend.”

  “You didn’t have a ride in high school,” I remind him as I laugh. “What were they meant to do? Spray-paint the bus?”

  He throws a pillow at my face, only just missing the bottle in my hand. “Asshole. I’d rather have no ride than the one you had.”

  “Hey,” I say, pointing my finger at him. “That Suzuki Swift got us both where we needed to be, all right? Don’t be dissing Suzie, may her soul rest in peace. She took us on many food runs and was the perfect-escape getaway when we were skipping school.”

  “This is true,” Eddie agrees, glancing up at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

  “So you used to skip school, but the one time I did it you wanted to murder me?” Justin asks as he stands in the doorway, barefoot, a can of soda in his hand.

  Shit.

  Of course he heard that one.

  “Do as he says not as he does,” Eddie pipes in, placing
his now-empty bottle on the table. “Besides, high school is meant to be the best time of your life. Do you really want to be missing that?”

  “Yes,” Justin replies in a dry tone, dropping down onto the couch next to me. “If high school is the best time of your life, being an adult must be hell.”

  Eddie and I share a look, not wanting to scare him off life, but yeah, high school was a much easier, carefree time. And I didn’t have to pay bills back then. While I hope to be very financially secure one day in the near future, now is not that time. I still have to put in work to get where I want to be. Luckily for Justin and me, our mom had life insurance and her house was already paid off in full, so we don’t have to pay rent. I put away most of Mom’s money for Justin in a savings account, which he has access to whenever he needs. He’s a good kid, and wanted to get a part-time job, but I told him to just concentrate on his studies instead. He wants to be an engineer one day, and I want to make sure those goals become a reality for him.

  I decide to change the subject and lighten the mood. “Want to shoot some hoops?”

  “Sounds good,” Eddie says, standing up and stretching his long arms above him. “You ready to lose?”

  “Never,” I reply, stopping by the mini fridge and pulling out two more beers.

  “Can I have one?” Justin asks, sounding hopeful. This is kind of where the lines blur, because me as his brother would give him one, but me as his legal guardian shouldn’t. Yes, he’s just a few years shy of the legal drinking age, and it’s just one beer, but my initial reaction is to tell him no.

  “Come on, just one, Callum,” he groans, like I’m some unreasonable, overprotective brother.

  I hesitantly hand him one and say, “Just the one.”

  He nods and leads the way outside, opening the beer cap with his hand on his T-shirt.

  “It’s fine; he’s here with us,” Eddie says to me softly. “We were drinking at that age.”

  “I know,” I grumble.

  I didn’t know all the shit I used to do would catch up with me so soon. It should be years and years before I have a kid throwing my past in my face, but nope, I’m getting it from baby brother instead. “But my grades were always good, and we had our shit somewhat together.”

  “That’s because you’re a genius,” Eddie says, slapping me on the back. “You could have walked into an exam for a class you never even took and still have gotten the highest score. You’ve always been the brains. I’m the beauty.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “Beauty? Fuck, that’s the last word I’d choose for you, Eddie.”

  “Justin’s grades are good too,” Eddie also points out. “And he somewhat has his shit together. So you have no ground to stand on with that argument.”

  Okay, maybe I’m being a little ridiculous.

  “You guys going to play, or sit around and gossip all day?” Justin calls out as he takes a shot, his beer resting on the grass. He sinks it and flashes me a smug look. “Let’s see who can shoot the most without missing.”

  “Deal,” I say, jogging toward our makeshift court.

  I love the time I get to just hang out with these two. I get to be more myself, say what I want, laugh and joke around.

  I get to smile.

  I don’t think Judge Williams even likes me doing that.

  I hear a car pull up, and there’s only one other person who drops by now and again unannounced.

  “Hey, Son,” my dad rumbles in his deep tone as he lets himself into my backyard.

  “Hey, Dad,” I call back to him.

  “Now we can play two-on-two,” Eddie says, rubbing his hands together.

  My dad says hello to Justin and Eddie, then puts his hands out for me to throw him the ball. He’s in his midfifties, with dark pepper-and-salt hair and brown eyes, and his age is finally starting to show. It makes me a little sad, but I know I still have many years left with him, and I plan on enjoying every moment while I can. I throw him the ball and he dribbles before taking a shot, which goes in.

  “Show-off,” I call out, going over to him and giving him a big hug. “Didn’t know you were coming over today, old man.”

  “But you came just in time, Richard,” Justin calls out with a grin. “Younger brother is about to put his older brother to shame.”

  My dad laughs. “I definitely arrived just in time, then.” He turns to me and adds, “Thought I’d come teach you a thing or two about basketball, but looks like Justin is taking care of that for me.”

  I grin and shake my head. “Let’s do it then.”

  We play some two-on-two, me and Eddie versus Justin and Dad. My dad has always been very athletic and played a lot of sports with me. I did the same with Justin—growing up we’d always be shooting hoops or kicking or throwing a ball around the backyard.

  “How’s school, Justin?” I hear my dad ask as Eddie takes his shot.

  “Good,” Justin replies, eyes on the hoop. “My grades are up.”

  “That’s good,” Dad tells him, smiling. “You’ve always been a bright kid, so I’m not surprised. You both must have gotten that from your mother.”

  I know the two of them care about each other, but it feels like they don’t know what role they’re meant to be playing here.

  “Callum says being average is not acceptable in this household,” Justin tells him, amusement in his tone. “I need to aim for greatness.”

  “Pressure much?” Dad says in a dry tone. “We can’t all be lawyers, Callum.”

  “He knows I love him no matter what,” I say, grinning at my baby brother. “But I know he has it in him to do whatever he wants to do.”

  I believe in him.

  Just like our mom did in both her sons.

  chapter 4

  TRINITY

  “ARE YOU HUNGRY AGAIN, Florence?” I ask my Bengal cat as she nuzzles her head against my ankle. I put some dry biscuits into her silver bowl and place it on the floor, my white silk robe brushing the gray tiles. She dives right into them like she didn’t just eat about an hour ago. I make a tsk-tsk noise and walk back into my bedroom and stand in front of my mirrored sliding doors. My robe falls open as I study myself, showing off the pale skin on my chest. I never know what to do on my days off. The house is clean because a cleaner comes in once a week, and I’m hardly home to make much of a mess anyway. I know I’m meant to relax, but I’ve never been good at that. I find myself throwing on some jogging clothes and heading next door. I knock twice before my neighbor Alyssa answers, her young daughter, Dina, in her arms. I give Dina a big smile and hold my arms out to her, which she all but jumps into.

  “Good morning, pretty girl,” I say, giving her a big hug, then glance up at her mom. “I’m going for a walk along the boardwalk, you coming?”

  She nods. “Give me ten, I’ll get changed.”

  I sit down on the couch with Dina while Alyssa gets ready. She’s lived next to me for the last four years and we’ve slowly become friends. Ever since her husband walked out last year, we’ve become even closer. I remember the day he left; I found her sitting on the porch, arms wrapped around herself. I’d asked her if she was okay, and she said that she wasn’t but she would be. She was scared, I knew. I’d awkwardly given her a hug, and she had started crying and asking why she wasn’t enough for him. She’s since learned that he wasn’t enough to handle a woman like her. She’s a strong woman, and one I admire. Having a close friend is something new for me; I normally don’t let people in, but with Alyssa it was kind of hard not to. She comes over whenever she likes, and I’ve learned to welcome her into my space and enjoy having her there. I guess that’s what family is, right?

  “What are you watching, Dina?” I ask the one-year-old. “PAW Patrol. Great choice. And don’t you look extra cute this morning?”

  I touch her little ponytail, which only just has enough hair to be tied into anything, a pink bow around it.

  “How’s your week been?” Alyssa asks as she reenters the room, dressed in black yoga pants and
a tight black tank top. She doesn’t look like she’s had a kid, her body still fit and toned.

  “Not too bad,” I reply, standing with Dina in my arms. “Same old.”

  “How’s your new law clerk doing?” she absently asks as she slides on her pink sneakers. “Still chatty?”

  I sit Dina on the fluffy black carpet and sigh. “Yeah, but that aside he’s really competent. And super intelligent. Seriously, he picks up things that even I miss.”

  I hardly miss a thing—my eye for detail is impeccable—but it seems he never misses a thing. He’s sharp as a fucking tack, and I’ve never said that about anyone before. I’m both impressed and extremely irritated.

  “I doubt that,” she murmurs, lifting her head to look at me, blue eyes identical to Dina’s narrowing on me. “You are so particular with details.”

  “He’s quick,” I say, trying to explain how brilliant his mind is. “He must have a really high IQ.”

  “What does he look like?” she asks, sounding curious.

  Tall and sexy. Firm, kissable lips and green eyes that steal your soul.

  “Why?” I ask her, dragging out the word. There’s no way in hell I’m admitting my attraction to him. Nope. I can barely admit it to myself; it’s so inappropriate.

  She stills, then softly laughs. “He’s a babe, isn’t he?”

  Shit. How did I give it away? Alyssa is possibly the only person who knows how to read me.

  I square my shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Look at you, getting all defensive. Let me guess,” she continues, moving on the floor next to her daughter and sliding little socks on her feet. “He’s tall, dark, and handsome. That’s totally your type.”

  I open my mouth, then close it. Am I that transparent? Yeah, he’s all those things, but I’m not shallow, I don’t just go for those three characteristics. “I don’t have a type.”

  “Your last two boyfriends were just that.”

  I purse my lips. “My last two boyfriends? The previous one lasted less than three months; I don’t think that counts as a boyfriend. That was just an interview, and one that he failed.”