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“Overruled.”

Aubrey smiled and looked at her notebook. “Do you have commitment problems, Mr. Hamilton?”

“How can I have a problem with something I don’t believe in?”

“So, you believe in engaging in one night stands for the rest of your life?”

“Your Honor…” The opposing intern stood up, but I raised my hand.

“No need,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Aubrey. “I’ll entertain Miss Everhart’s inappropriate line of questioning...I believe in living my life however the hell I want and dealing with women whenever I want to deal with them. I’m not sure how who I sleep with has anything to do with this mock conspiracy case, but since we’re discussing my sex life, you should know that I’m happy and satisfied. I have a date later tonight actually. Would you like me to report the details to you and the jury tomorrow?”

The interns in the jury box laughed as Aubrey’s smile faded. Even as she forced it again, I could see a hint of hurt in her eyes.

“So…” She took a deep breath. “Regarding the case—”

“So happy you’re finally getting on topic.”

The jurors laughed again.

“Do you believe in morals, Mr. Hamilton?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you think you possess them?”

“I think everyone does to a certain extent.”

“Permission to approach the witness?” She looked at Mr. Bach and he nodded.

“Mr. Hamilton, can you read the highlighted portion of this document please?” She placed a sheet of paper in front of me, and I noticed a small handwritten note at the very top of the page:

I f**king hate you and I wish I’d never met you.

“Yes,” I said, taking a pen out of my pocket. “It says that my company was unaware of insurance policy changes at the time.”

As she handed a copy of the document to the jury panel, I wrote a response to her note:

Sorry to see that you regret meeting me, as I don’t regret meeting you—only that I f**ked you more than once.

She asked me to read another section to the court, and then she took the paper away—glaring at me once she read my words.

I tried to look away from her, to focus on something else, but the way she looked today prevented that from happening. Her hair wasn’t up in her signature bun—it was falling past her shoulders in long curls that grazed her br**sts. And the dress she was wearing, a highly inappropriate one that hugged her thighs a little too tightly, rose up an inch every time she took a step.

“I have three more questions for Mr. Hamilton, Your Honor,” she said.

“There’s no limit, Miss Everhart.” He smiled.

“Right…” She stepped forward and looked into my eyes. “Mr. Hamilton, you and your company led your employees to believe that you cared about them, that you had their best interests at heart, and that you would literally communicate the actual changes you would make before termination. Are those promises not directly from your company’s brochure?”

“They are.”

>Frustrated, I slipped out of bed and walked down the hallway—straightening the “E” and “H” frames that hung on the wall while trying not to look too hard.

I was going to need more than my usual few shots to get through tonight, and I was starting to become extremely annoyed that I hadn’t f**ked someone in what felt like forever.

I poured two shots of bourbon and tossed them down back to back. Before I could pour another, my phone vibrated. An email.

Alyssa.

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