Just Be True To Me

Chapter 9

“We’ll pick it up tomorrow bright and early. I’ll see you back here at 10,” the judge said,

The courtroom had emptied by the time Mia finished packing up her things. She and Clifford said nothing to one another as they made their way to the front of the building.

She was ready for the mob of reporters that was waiting for her. Having time to digest all of the information that was dropped in her lap, she was able to un-blur the line. She saw that the fake relationship strategy was the wrong move. It added unnecessary complication to their relationship. She’d involved her emotions when she shouldn’t have, another one of the first lessons that Milton had taught her.

She switched her briefcase from the left to her right hand. The questions slapped her in the face as soon as she stepped outside.

We haven’t seen you two together much. Is there trouble in paradise?

Are you two breaking up? How will a breakup affect your legal relationship?

Mr. Knight, we heard you took a trip home. Care to tell us the reason?

Mr. Knight, what do you think about the job Ms. Bishop is doing?

Ms. Bishop, how have you managed to separate the business from the personal?

The question was the opening she needed.

“I haven’t managed to keep them separate. That’s why I’ve decided to terminate our personal relationship. Mr. Knight needs all of my attention to be on the trial. For me to perform at my best, I need to be able to see him as a client and just a client. Thank you for your questions.” The crowd quieted, splitting as she descended the stairs.

Clifford slid in next to her, instructing the driver to turn up the heat after he closed the door. Undoing his tie, he said, “That was a great answer. I’ve never seen them stunned to silence.”

“I meant it. This, whatever it is, is done. I’m going to get you off. After I do, we don’t need to speak again.”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” she said. She squeezed her legs together to keep from touching his.

“You women are something else. Will you at least tell me what I did?”

She didn’t answer, directing her gaze out of the window.

He let out an annoyed sigh. “Mia, I’m sorry for being short with you and not answering your calls when I was out of town. I’m sorry for omitting certain details about my past. I’m sorry for everything, okay.”

She slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me. Ain’t no telling where your hands have been.” He stared at her in obvious stunned silence and didn’t speak until their drive was over.

I need some space so don’t come after me. Don’t call or text me either.

Mia ordered a drink at the bar as soon as she’d sent the text. A news report covering the current happenings of the trial came on. She let out a breath and ran her hand down her face. “Can’t get away from him.”

“Man problems?” the bartender asked. “Is he on the team or still trying out?”

“Girl, I don’t even know. To be honest, I don’t even care anymore. Tired of putting in the effort.”

“I feel that. Put his ass on suspension.” She poured herself a drink and tapped Mia’s glass before throwing her own back. After swallowing it, she said, “My name’s Kiki, let me know if you need anything else. I get off in a couple of hours if you want to talk.”

“Don’t know if I’ll be able to. I’m trying to drink so much that I forget his name.” The second shot pushed her past her threshold. Resting her head on her forearms, she was able to feel the liquid sloshing around as she took it.

She began to think about the state of her life, specifically her love life. She didn’t think her wants were unusual. Her needs surely weren’t. And there was a difference. With her choice of career, she made a consistent effort not to require anything that would make her more intimidating. Using a napkin, she listed all the things that would make a perfect mate.

1. Good decision maker
2. At least a 7
3. Has been living by himself for at least 3 years
4. Acceptable credit rating
5. Cultured
6. Emotionally stable

“Who’s this? Your dream guy?” Kiki asked, snatching the napkin. She gave it a quick read. “All those men are extinct. You might as well start looking across the aisle.”

“Across the aisle.”

“Women. I’m single.” She winked before leaving to tend to another customer.

Reading the list again, Mia found it to be somewhat trivial. Grabbing another napkin, she started another one, titling it: What’s most important to me?

1. Able to be affectionate after an argument
2. Encourages my femininity
3. Offers emotional support/Is my biggest fan
4. Willing to try different things

“That’s my dad.” Her groan rushed through her fingers. She pulled out her phone, staring at his name for a long time before pressing the dial icon. Her surprise produced a burp. “Hey dad, I didn’t think you would answer.”

“I’ll always answer for you sweetheart. Are you okay? You sound a little tipsy.”

“I am. Can you meet me somewhere? I’ll send you the address.”

He arrived less than ten minutes later. Mia’s stress melted as soon as his arms wrapped around her. Letting his arms fall, he hugged her again when she didn’t let go. “Must have been a really bad day.”

“Boy problems,” she mumbled into his chest. “Why can’t all guys be like you?”

He chuckled. “I’m the last of a dying breed, sweetheart. They don’t make ‘em like me anymore.” He ordered a sprite, noticing her raised eyebrow. “I gave up the hooch.”

She pushed her own glass away. He took the straw out of the glass and set it aside. He answered the question before she had a chance to ask. “Real men don’t drink from straws.”

“What if the glasses aren’t clean?”

“Ask for a clean one.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, reminding her of how much she loved him. Having to deal with Clifford made her appreciate that he and her mother had worked through their problems. Thinking back, she couldn’t remember a time where they raised their voices as one another. In fact, it seemed as if they made an effort to whisper when they were angry with one another.

With his neck craned upward, she noticed a darkened patch of skin. Without any regard for his privacy, she pulled his collar down. “I know that’s not a hickey.”

He couldn’t hide his smile.

“Ewwww. You’re too old to be getting hickies. Who you let su*k on your neck?”

His smile grew wider until his teeth began to show. “Your mother.” His guffaw overpowered the reporter on the screen. He eased his collar back up, positioning it so at least the bottom half was covered. “That’s where I was before I came.” He drank down the rest of his Sprite and ordered another. “That reminds me, I have good news.”