Couples
Chapter 115
The music from the ski movie "Timeless" plays just loud enough to lend atmosphere to Rick's celebration of Lana and Eli's wedding. In coordination with Christine's menu, Alexis helped Rick decorate the great room of the loft. Christine's offerings along with high-grade disposable but biodegradable dishes and flatware occupy a sizable buffet table. Rick hired one of Alexis' fellow students to tend bar for the night. Rick's 50-year-old single malt is still locked away, but he put out some of the better selections from his wine rack and liquor cabinet. Along with the punch, guests can also choose from an array of sparkling soft drinks.
After the crowd encouraged Lana and Eli to start the dancing, various couples are taking the floor. At the moment, that includes Roy and Evelyn Montgomery. An assortment of cops and lawyers are sharing stories, and in one corner, ski aficionados trade tales.
With Lily upstairs with Meryl, Rick studies the various conversation clusters with satisfaction. Everyone's having a good time, including the bride and groom. No one can expect much more than that from a party.
He wishes Christine hadn't rushed back to Imagination Patch as soon as she and the servers helping her, dropped off the food. She would get a kick out of watching the guests enjoy it. But she reminded him about the Saturday night crowds, pointing out that tonight's take would probably pay for the party. He'd have to check Mark's spreadsheets about that. But even if she's right, he hopes that Auchincloss won't put too much load on her shoulders. Rick isn't funding the head chef's new venture so he can torture a sous chef at his old one.
Mark removed the reserved sign from the owner's table, knowing Rick wouldn't be occupying it that night. He needs every seat he can free up to accommodate the diners. Two nearby restaurants fell on hard times and closed. Mark sympathizes but is also hustling to make sure Imagination Patch picks up as much of the slack as possible. He even talked several of the writer regulars into sharing their spaces. He's grateful that Christine and Auchincloss are in the kitchen. He needs both of them to feed the steady stream of customers.
Christine pulls a baking sheet containing eight of Chef's pot pies out of the oven. Of course, he made them, and she's amazed that he's even letting her touch them. But he's busy putting together another batch. She's been working on meals for the patrons who prefer lighter fare, mostly stir-fries. If Chef hadn't joined her in prep that afternoon, she'd already be out of the skillfully cut vegetables. But as it is, she's been able to turn out the orders with little wasted motion.
The only thing that's bothering her is that Chef is being nice – too nice. If she didn't keep an eagle eye on the baked goods, she might suspect that someone slipped something into them. But she doesn't believe that happened. Auchincloss's attitude toward her has changed over the past few days. And she appreciates it. She's admired his work for a long time, but she never thought she might actually like him. She supposes stranger things have happened, but at the moment, she can't think of one.
Morton Andrews isn't usually in his office on Saturday nights. In the past, he's left weekend scut work to paralegals and young associates. But since his recent troubles, he's running a lot leaner. His one young associate is with a wife in labor, and his paralegal rarely works overtime. Somehow he has to salvage the mess he made of the Flatt trial. Unfortunately, he can't see how.
Eli Douglas skillfully undermined every witness Morton presented, and he doesn't expect things to get any better. He's sure Flatt is guilty, but he's had guilty clients before – and gotten them off. However, this isn't a matter of gaining sympathy with the jury or convincing them that a prosecutor is trying to build a career on the back of his client. Eli has the receipts. And for every witness Morton tries to bring to make the argument that Flatt is innocent, Eli makes sure the jury knows that his guilt is written in black and white.
Morton's been trying to find a loophole, a way to get the evidence thrown out or even claim a mistrial. But Markway's been careful, not allowing anything that might be grounds for appeal. And Douglas obviously did his homework. Andrews sighs, the case law on the computer screen in front of him blurring. It didn't have anything worth citing anyway. Douglas has Flatt by the shorthairs, and Andrews is out of maneuvers to stop him. He only has one option, but convincing his client won't be easy. So far, he's resisted any attempts Morton made to induce him to make a deal. Flatt's never lost on anything in his life, and he sees himself as invincible. If Morton can't find a way to change Flatt's mind, he has little doubt that the jury will convict, and Markway will throw the book at Flatt – hard.
Tomorrow he'll try again to make Flatt see the light. Hell, he might even drop into a church to pray a little first. At this point, the hope of divine intervention is all he has left. Too bad Flatt doesn't deserve any.
Bambi snuggles into Esposito's shoulder on the couch in his apartment. "Javi, I loved that movie! There are lots of films about teachers making a difference in kids' lives, but Ron Clark did something real."
Esposito bought the 60-inch screen to watch sports and play games. But if seeing a sappy chick flick on it makes Bambi happy, he can live with that. The story wasn't bad, except for that white dude trying to rap. Well, it wasn't as geeky as when Ryan tried it.
Castle's party for the Eli Douglas and his new wife is tonight. Esposito's had dealings with Douglas and met Lana on the job, but he doesn't know them well enough to expect an invitation. He might have been able to get Beckett to wangle him one, but he's happy where he is. Usually, Bambi doesn't want to stay up very late, so she can be fresh for her students. Even so, he doesn't know how she handles that many little kids. He'd rather try to keep a gang of crooks in check. But's she's good at it. No, she's great at it.
Anyway, it's Saturday night, and Bambi doesn't have to get up in the morning. So far, they haven't gone what a boomer would call "all the way." Just holding her has been better than the practiced maneuvers he expected from his usual dates. She's soft, but not too soft. And she always smells wonderful – except for the day one of the kids got sick all over her. She took it in stride better than he has when a perp's barfed on him.
Bambi seems to take almost everything in stride – except for someone threatening the kids. Then the gentle doe becomes a lioness. He's seen it happen, and he wouldn't want to be the target of her claws. But right now, there are no claws, just sweet warmth against his body. Sonofabitch! Did he just think that? He's turning as sappy as the movie. Good thing he didn't say it out loud. He glances down, catching the scent of her hair. He's not ready yet, but maybe, sometime, saying it out loud wouldn't be so bad. It might not be so bad at all.