Just Be True To Me

He winced as he dropped to his knee but didn’t show any other discomfort as he took her hand. “Mia, I don’t know your middle name, Bishop, would you do the honor of helping me maintain my freedom. With the check you’ll get at the end of the trial, you’ll be able to buy a diamond the size of your fist.”

People began to lean in their direction.

Something ignited inside of her as she looked down at him. She liked the way his hand felt as it traveled back and forth across the back of her hand. She liked the way his hand wrapped around hers, at least double in size, its warmth traveling up her arm. The attention went to her head. She remained quiet to increase the tension. Her eyes slid to the right then to the left. Everyone was looking at her.

Her answer was a single nod.

“She said yes,” someone said. A round of applause burst around them.

***

Clifford scooped her into his arms and twirled her around. Setting her back down, he placed his forehead against hers. Two flashes blinded him. He caught a glimpse of the rogue cameraman before he disappeared around the corner. Pecking her cheek, he gave chase.

The cameraman was breathing hard, his back against the wall when Clifford arrived. He cradled the camera lens, raising the other hand into the air. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Give me the camera.”

“I…I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Clifford said, inching toward him. “And you will.”

“This shot’ll make my career. Please.”

Clifford rested his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m not saying your intentions aren’t pure, but I can’t be sure about the person you’re working for. Since you took the picture, you know who I am. Since you know that, you know I can’t afford any scandals right now.”

The man nodded.

Clifford slipped the camera from the man’s neck. After removing the SD card, he gave it back to him. He then removed his wallet from his pocket. Taking out the bills, he placed them inside of the man’s jacket. “For being so understanding.” He snapped the card in half and smashed it into the ground. He began walking back toward the street. He turned around. “Spread the word to your friends. I’m off limits until the trial is over.”

When his back was turned, the man pulled out another card.

Clifford stopped upon hearing the familiar clicks. Bearing down on the man, the vibration of his fist punching into the wall reached his shoulders and he slammed the man against the hard brick. He snatched the camera and threw it to the ground. The man’s pleads fell on death ears. He reared his fist back.

“Clifford.”

Both of them craned their necks in the direction of the voice.

Mia was standing at the mouth of alley.

Clifford took two steps back after letting the man go. He lingered in the spot for a few seconds before continuing to retreat. The glare was more than enough warning as to what would happen. “Mia, what’s the maximum penalty for libel and slander?”

“Up to two years in jail.”

He flashed his famous grin. “Always good to have one of the best lawyers in the city on your payroll.” When he reached her, he hooked her hand around his arm. “Remember what I said, friend, no pictures until after the trial.”

***

“So you’re back on,” Tamara asked.

“Looks like it. It’s good too because I really didn’t want to leave things the way they were.” The opening statement still left a bad taste in her mouth. An emergency meeting with the judge granted her a two week stay. She spent the majority of the first week acquiring any and all information she could find on Clifford, much of which was provided by Tamara’s skill.

Tamara stopped talking mid-sentence, her eyes glued to the TV. When asked what was wrong, she pointed to the screen.

It was picture of Clifford down on his knee.

“Fu*k,” Mia said. “Fu*k. Fu*k.” Retrieving her phone, she saw that she’d missed ten calls. She answered it on the first ring. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I don’t need this right now,” Clifford said. “God-dammit. I can’t do anything without somebody watching.”

She continued to watch the screen while listening to his curses. Though she was concerned, she couldn’t help notice how happy she looked. The joy on her face almost looked genuine.

It’s just because me and dad made up.

“Did you hear what I said, Mia,” he asked. “I already have someone out looking for the source. If anyone asks you about the picture, tell them the truth. That we’re nothing and that was just me making a joke. Okay?”

“Uh-huh.” She hung up the phone, caught up on the word nothing. She knew full well that they weren’t together, but she wouldn’t have minded pretending.

“That’s gonna make trouble for the case,” Tamara said. She put on her jacket and headed for the door, telling Mia that she was going to put her ear to the ground. “You’d be surprised how much PIs and the paparazzi have in common.”

“Yeah, you’re always following around people that don’t want to be followed.” Mia laughed at the middle finger she stuck up, giving her a slap on the butt after they hugged. After Tamara left, she sat in the middle of the couch, pressing the button that made the screen freeze, a picture of Clifford by himself appearing. She analyzed Clifford’s face, as she’d done numerous times before. Grabbing a pad and pen, she began to write all the things that put her off, starting with his smirk.

His hair, styled in a perfect quiff haircut; his perfect-fitting tailored suit, his flawless prefect skin. Closing her eyes, she was able to hear him speak with his perfect grammar and diction. His fingernails were cut in a perfectly straight line, his shoes shined until they showed his perfect reflection. Everything about him was neat. Not a hair was out of place. Even the way his wallet was positioned in his back pocket made it so that his butt had the perfect curve.

In writing her list, she found that nothing was wrong with him. And that was the problem.

He was too perfect.

Most lawyers forget that jurors are regular people. They aren’t able to connect with a man that’s making 10x as much money as they are. Remembering this, she began to see the opening statement as a blessing. She also came up with an idea of how to use the picture. Searching for her phone, Mia put it on speaker as she wrote three words at the bottom of the page.

Make more human.

“Mia, I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to talk right now,” Clifford said. “I have three other people on the line.”

“Tell them the picture is real.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“It’ll show another side of you. Right now, you’re un-relatable. You need to make yourself look more human.” The chaos in the background quieted. “You’re too perfect right now. We need to dirty up your image.” The line remained silent. “Hello?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She asked where he was. “Meet me at your house in an hour.”