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“For as long as I want you to.” Her voice sounded more confident now.

“You think I’m going to talk to you for another month without being able to f**k you? Without being able to see you in person?”

“I think you’ll talk to me for several months without f**king me. As a matter of fact, I think you’ll talk to me for years without f**king me because I’m your friend, and friends—”

“If I haven’t f**ked you within the next month or two, we won’t be friends anymore.”

“You want to bet?”

“I don’t have to.” I hung up and grabbed my laptop, ready to give Date-Match another try. The second I clicked the prettiest woman on the page, an email from Alyssa popped onto my screen.

Subject: Trust Me.

You and I will still be friends a few months from now, and you’ll be completely okay with not seeing my face.

Watch.

—Alyssa.

Subject: Re: Trust Me.

You and I will be f**king a few months from now, and the only reason I’ll be okay with not seeing your face is because you’ll be riding my c**k as I bend your ass over a table.

Watch.

—Thoreau.

Testimony (n.):

Oral evidence given under oath by a witness in answer to questions posed by attorneys at trial or at a deposition.

Andrew

“Miss Everhart, you can take the floor and question Mr. Hamilton now,” Mr. Greenwood said from across the courtroom.

It was the last day of the month, which meant that we were finally getting use out of the million dollar courtroom that sat on the top floor of GBH. There was no need for this room, but since the firm had more money than it knew what to do with, the space was being used for the interns’ mock cases.

Today’s “trial” was about some idiot who defrauded his own company’s employees—leaving them without insurance and health care, and unfortunately, I was playing the accused.

Standing up from the defense table, Aubrey grabbed her notebook and took the floor. She and I hadn’t spoken since I kicked her out of my condo two weeks ago, but from what I could tell, she seemed unfazed.

She’d been smiling quite often, being extremely nice, and each time she delivered my coffee she did it with a smirk and an, “I really hope you enjoy this coffee, Mr. Hamilton.”

I’d been stopping at the coffee shop up the street ever since…

“Mr. Hamilton,” she said, smoothing her tight blue dress, “is it true that you previously cheated on your wife?”

“I’ve never cheated.”

“Stick to the character, Andrew.” Mr. Bach whispered from the judge’s seat.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes. There was a time when I cheated on my wife.”

“Why?”

“Objection!” One of the interns shouted. “Your Honor, do we really need to know the specifics about my client’s love life? This mock trial is about his involvement in a conspiracy.”

“If I may, Your Honor,” Aubrey spoke before the “judge” could say anything. “I think assessing how Mr. Hamilton behaved in his previous affairs is a good assessment of his character. If we were trying a client who abandoned his company due to incompetence, it wouldn’t be out of line for me to ask about his previous personal relationships—especially if our mock client is a high profile one.”

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