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When we arrived back at the 8th Avenue building, I said goodbye to Mike and went up the stairs to the apartment. I slipped off my boots and coat and went into the kitchen where Drake was busy fixing Sophia some supper. As usual, she was in her highchair and was pushing around some animal crackers on her tray.
"Hi, baby," I said and gave her plump cheek a kiss. "Have you been a good girl for Daddy?"
She gave me a huge toothy-mushy-cracker smile and shoved another animal into her mouth.
"She's been a very good girl," Drake said from the stove. "She went down without a peep and woke up about half an hour ago. We played on the floor for a while with Thomas the Tank Engine."
"That's good," I said and went to his side, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I guess I should start cooking."
"I'll help." Drake rubbed his hands together. "Give me a knife and tell me what to do."
I went to the refrigerator to get the vegetables out for the stir fry. After I placed them on the counter in front of Drake, I did hand him a chopping knife and cutting board.
"What's new? Any developments in the trial?"
"As a mat
ter of fact, yes," Drake said and began chopping the broccoli while I fixed the rice. "Lara called before you arrived and filled me in on the trial this afternoon. Seems that the defense is going to call me as a hostile witness."
"What?"
Drake nodded, his expression grim. "Yep. They want to question me about my relationship with Lisa and Derek. Part of building the case that Lisa was abused and battered and was acting in self-defense when she hit him with the hammer a half dozen times after Jones stabbed him as many times with the fish boning knife and after making him transfer money to them both."
"Do you have to?" I made a face, not relishing the fact Drake would be pulled into the limelight again.
"I have to. We knew this was coming," he said. "I hoped Lisa would accept a plea bargain and plead guilty but for whatever reason, her lawyer really believes she can get Lisa off on a battered woman defense."
Drake shrugged, but I could see how unhappy he was.
"I'm sorry," I said and went to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my head against his back. "What a pain to have to go through it all again. Why can't they take a deposition and let the jury read it?"
"They want to put a face to the name of the man who corrupted poor Lisa since Derek is dead. They can't harass him, so I guess it's me."
"What kinds of things will they ask you?"
He shrugged and turned around, slipping his arms around me. "When we met, what we agreed to, what we did, what happened afterwards. Lara's going to take me through the probable questions they will ask so we can practice my responses. Not that I won't tell the truth, but so I know how to phrase it so I don't bias the jury."
"The jury won't understand that it was all consensual. They'll just hear bondage and think violence and abuse."
"I'll be questioned by the prosecutor and she'll correct any misunderstandings in cross examination."
"I hope so."
I sighed and went over to feed Sophie her supper while Drake finished chopping. As usual, Sophie was glad to feed herself, eagerly picking up the pieces of soft food in her fingers and holding her fork in the other hand. I smiled while I watched her. She was a good eater.
"You better make sure to bring John along with you when you testify."
"John waits outside. It's pretty safe in court." Drake finished chopping some red bell pepper. "He'll push any pesky reporters out of the way and lead me through the throngs of paparazzi to the limo."
"They'll love it," I said, and took the chicken out of the freezer. "The news will carry video of you leaving the courthouse, claiming you're a real-life Grey. You'll probably get more fan mail." I thought about the letters and texts and emails Drake had received after the last trial from young women hoping to become Drake's next submissive. He'd had to change his email address, phone number and twitter accounts so he no longer received them.
"Oh, God, I hope not."
We worked together for the next fifteen minutes to fix the stir fry, with me cooking and Drake watching over the rice and preparing the sauce.
Finally, when the food was ready, we dished out our servings and Drake sat beside me. Then, he got up abruptly and went to the refrigerator. "I got this for us," he said, holding up a bottle of white wine. "It's South African. I hear it's all the rage now."
He brought over two wine glasses and poured us each a glass.
