I have four stories mapped out so far: Love in Reality, The Cost of Happiness, Blackjack & Moonlight, and Lost & Found.  You can read about them here, but you can also read the first chapter Blackjack & Moonlight.  And you can tell me what you think here!  (I’m eager to know…)

Enjoy!

BLACKJACK & MOONLIGHT

Single-title Contemporary Romance

90,000 words

Chapter One

Waiting in the shadows between the door to the hallway and the bench – his bench in his courtroom – Jack McIntyre tugged at the knot of his tie, red, the only color that would show above the black robe.  He was once more waiting to go onstage as Philadelphia’s newest federal judge.  Insanity giving him the job – jurists were supposed to be older and seasoned. Jack felt absurdly young, like the actor picked for his good looks rather than actual experience. Fear he’d flub his lines squeezed his windpipe.

Even after two weeks, this part wasn’t getting easier.

He visualized walking into the courtroom. It was a trick he’d used as a prosecutor, imagining himself in control of the room.  The courtrooms in Philadelphia were all wood tones.  Brown ceiling, brown walls, brown furniture.  It was like being trapped inside a walnut shell.  The carpet wasn’t brown, but by the time your eyes got down there, your retinas no longer registered any other color.

There were some gold accents in the U.S. seal on the wall above the bench, but he wouldn’t see that unless he swiveled around and looked up.  Instead, he’d just have some lawyers to look at.  With his luck, they’d be wearing brown too and he wouldn’t be able to avoid laughing.

“All rise!”  Tony delivered his only line with deep panache, audible even in the wings.

Jack’s cue.  Enter stage right: The Judge.  He swallowed down the familiar surge of anxiety.

As he walked over to the massive dark leather chair, he focused on the empty wood benches at the back of the room, avoiding looking directly at the three people standing before him.  They were waiting for him to sit before they could sit.  Despite a year filled with secret meetings with politicians and the vetting process and the FBI background check and judges’ school, Jack hadn’t gotten used to the idea that he was worth standing for.  But the politicians seemed to think he belonged on the federal court, so Jack had taken the role.  He prayed he wouldn’t turn it into a farce.

Jack signaled to his law clerk.  “Okay, Mr. Alexander, what have we got this morning?” he said quietly.  The young man bounced out of his seat, but even standing, his head and shoulders were all Jack could see above the ledge at the front of the bench.

The clerk leaned in to whisper.  “Defendant’s motion to compel in Everton v. KeriAge Inc., Judge.  Wrongful termination suit with a breach of contract countersuit.  With all due respect, plaintiff’s case is a dog.  Judge Wilkins told the parties to settle it at the Rule 16 conference, but instead, they’re still fighting over discovery.”

Turning toward plaintiff’s counsel, Jack adopted a particularly sour expression.  “Mr. Mather, why are we here?”  Bart Mather was a schlub, the kind of lawyer who took pretty much any case that walked in the door.  Jack looked at his comb-over, grubby complexion and rumpled suit.  Mather’s scalp was shiny with sweat, making him look panicked.  No surprise there – the guy always seemed jumpy, as though his license was going to be revoked.

“Good morning, your honor.  My client, Mr. Everton, has sued his former employer for wrongful termination, and – ” he began.

“I’m aware of that,” Jack interrupted.  “But why are we here today?  I believe Judge Wilkins made it clear last September that this case should settle promptly and thus go away.  And yet, six months later, it’s barely budged.  Tectonic plates move faster.”

Jack sensed the lawyer for the defendant standing to address him.  “Your Honor, if I may explain.”  Her voice, starched to crispness, invited another impatient rebuke from the bench.

Jack turned to administer an equal dose of his annoyance, but when he saw the businesslike woman behind the defendant’s table, the rebuke was gone.  Lost.  It had vanished, a bubble popped.  Chills crawled up his arms.  His heart raced ahead of his sluggish thoughts.  His hands tingled.  His mouth felt coated in chalk dust, but he couldn’t see the glass of water in front of him.

He didn’t recognize the lawyer, so she must not practice criminal law.  But that was the last sensible thought to penetrate the buzzing in his ears. Seeing her felt familiar – as though they’d only parted minutes ago, or it had been years and he’d thought he would never see her again.  The sight of her answered a question in his heart.  He’d met the woman he’d been waiting for.

Jack stared, mesmerized by her eyes sparking with emotion, her velvet cream complexion, an enchanting rose-pink mouth pressed tight shut, and pale hair like moonlight, glinting under the courtroom lights.  She wasn’t beautiful, exactly, but he’d never seen anyone lovelier.

Finding her like this, in a routine hearing during his third week on the bench, it was – Jack clutched for an explanation.  Nothing.  The sight of her had ripped away his ability to think straight.  But it felt wonderful, thrilling and fizzy.  Like iced champagne at a picnic, diamond-spray on a rocky shore, a roller coaster ride in the fog.  Getting affirmed by the Supreme Court couldn’t possibly be more exciting.  He wanted to laugh out loud, to grin at her in greeting, to grab her hand and pour out his heart.

She shifted from one foot to the other, then smoothed her blue dress.  She stole a glance at Mather.  She seemed uncertain what was happening or maybe she wasn’t sure what she should be doing.

“Your Honor?” she prompted.

She looked bright…and, Jack noticed then, very annoyed.

Suddenly, as if a camera had panned back to include the whole room, Jack could see that Jamie Alexander had turned to look up at him from the clerk’s seat, and even the court reporter was staring.  Everyone was waiting for him to say something.

What was he supposed to say?  Because of her, everything was upside down.  He couldn’t rule on defendant’s motion, not even something as pissant as a motion to compel.  Not now.  Not with her in the case.  It would be improper, and anyway, he was pretty sure there was a rule requiring him to disqualify himself if his impartiality as a judge might be questioned.

Crap.

They hadn’t covered this in judge’s school.

“Counsel, approach the bench,” he said.  He motioned to the court reporter.  “This is off the record.”

When Mather and – Jack had to look at the papers to learn her name – Elise Carroll were huddled by the far side of the bench, Jack rolled his chair over to talk to them.  He looked only at Mather.  If he looked at her, that flood of joy would swamp him again and he’d risk losing his voice if not his mind.

“Mr. Mather, I apologize.  I have to recuse myself from hearing this case.”

“That’s okay, Your Honor – ” Mather stumbled.

“But, Your Honor, why?” she objected in a strangled voice.

With her red-hot irritation scorching the right side of his face, Jack kept his gaze on Mather, who was rocking his body back and forth, smiling in relief.  Stupid rabbit.

“I’ll notify the clerk’s office to reassign this case to another judge.  I will stress that although I cannot hear this case, the court to which it is assigned should rule on all pending motions promptly.”

“Your Honor!” Elise Carroll said in a fierce voice.  “I request – ” the way she said request, Jack could tell she meant demand “– that you state for the record what reason you have for recusing yourself.”

Damn.

Jack suspected the rules for judicial conduct required him to give his reasons for disqualifying himself, however little he wanted to say it out loud.  He considered denying her request, or hauling the lawyers into his chambers.  But – he did a quick scan – with only six people in the room, moving to chambers wouldn’t change much.  Might as well get it over with.

So much for not wanting this to be a farce.

Jack gave her – Elise, that’s a pretty name – a cool glance.  “Very well, Ms. Carroll.  Step back.”

He waited for the lawyers to walk back to their respective tables.  Mather shook his head, once, to cut off his client’s fevered whispering.

Jack nodded to the court reporter to go back on the record.

“As you know,” Jack addressed the space between the two lawyers in his most formal tones, “I inherited Judge Wilkins’s docket.  My chambers is working hard to get all of her cases back on track after the transition.  I appreciate that it is inconvenient to have yet another judge assigned after the time that has passed, but in compliance with the canon of judicial ethics, I must recuse myself from hearing this case—”

He paused, then looked straight at Elise Carroll.  Elise.  Elise McIntyre. Or would she want to keep her maiden name?   And how did she feel about the kids’ surnames?  Carroll-McIntyre might be a mouthful.

“—because I am in love with counsel for the defendant.”

* * *

The table edge bit into Elise’s palm, but it was the only thing holding her up.  Blackjack McIntyre had just said what?  She wasn’t sure she’d heard him through the ocean-roar in her ears.  He’d said – her lips fell open but she slapped them shut.  He couldn’t actually have said…that.  Could he?  If she was wrong, she’d look like an idiot.  But what else could it have been?

His face gave off no clues – his unsmiling stare was thoroughly judicial.  Not exactly mad-for-you goo-goo eyes.  It wasn’t the look of a man playing a practical joke, either.  It was the level gaze of a man who was not kidding.

Elise knew then that she’d heard correctly the first time.  Blackjack McIntyre had just declared his – oh, God, this was such a nightmare.

Alarms clanged in her brain and she blinked twice.  Only a surge of rage made her choose fight over flight.  She let go of the table and grabbed onto that anger, letting it stiffen her knees and stretch her spine.

“With all due respect, Judge McIntyre, we’ve never met each other before today,” Elise stated, her voice miraculously rock-solid.

“True.”  He sounded almost detached or – bored.

“Then how can you claim to have an ethical duty to recuse yourself on the basis of—?”  Elise couldn’t actually say the words.

“My feelings for you?” he finished for her.  “Have you never heard of love at first sight, Ms. Carroll?”

Love at first – ?  No way.  Not in a courtroom, certainly.  In fact, not anywhere.  Elise wasn’t sure she believed couples who’d been together for years were really “in love.”  But to have a judge take advantage of courtroom decorum with – with whatever he thought he was up to?  That was too freaking much.

Her fists clenched on her fury.

She regarded Blackjack McIntyre with queasy loathing.  Of course he was like granite.  She bet in his entire life, by definition, he’d never been wrong.  And it was her job to point out how wrong he was now?  She could feel the steam squealing in her head.

Forget the case.  Forget Everton and that worm, Mather, snickering at her discomfort.  Forget everyone who had ever told her that no matter what the judge says, the only appropriate reply is “Thank you, Your Honor.”  This was war.  She ignored the compulsion to put her hands on her hips.  Drawing on a decade of courtroom etiquette, Elise ground out a victory over her instinct to scream at him.

“Love at first sight is as mythical as the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus,” she stated.  She added, “Your Honor.”  Hardly deferential, but the transcript would hide her sarcasm.

Was that a wisp of the telegenic Blackjack smile?  Elise wasn’t sure, but an instant later his face was impassive again.

“Nonetheless, Ms. Carroll, I cannot preside over a case when I have romantic feelings for one of the attorneys.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Mather piped up from the plaintiff’s table.  What an obsequious toad.  Elise ignored him and continued to glare at Blackjack McIntyre.

Her white-hot rage had no effect on him.  He kept looking at her impersonally.  “You’re welcome, Mr. Mather.  A word of advice, if you will permit me.  Just because I can’t rule on Ms. Carroll’s motion doesn’t make it any less meritorious.  I would urge you and your client to produce his tax returns, if only to spare him the cost of your pointless arguments that he doesn’t have to.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Mather muttered.

Blackjack looked away from her finally.  Elise went limp, like a tuggy toy the dog suddenly lost interest in.

“I believe we’re adjourned,” he said.  The judge rose and was about to walk away without another word.

They were done?  But nothing was settled.  Drop this disaster in her lap and then walk away?  Unacceptable.

“Your Honor – ” Elise wanted to haul him back with one of those vaudeville canes used to yank lousy acts off the stage.

He turned back toward her but when his eyes, still rock-cold, met hers, she couldn’t think what she’d been about to say.  She felt like Alice in Wonderland.  Any minute now, the Red Queen was going to sweep in and chop off her head.  Her look implored him to do something, fix this, say it had all been a joke.  Something.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Carroll,” he said slowly, as if he’d forgotten she existed.  “If you’d spare me a moment in chambers – ?”  He could freeze beer with that voice.

Elise goggled at his ice-covered demeanor.  If that was the way he talked to women he claimed to have, uh, feelings for, it was amazing he got any dates at all.  True, his frosty manner went with the whole black-hair-and-chiseled-jaw superhero look.  Clark Kent and Superman fused into a hotshot prosecutor-turned-federal judge.  Elise supposed some women went for that look.

He nodded at her and left the bench.

Elise turned to see what Mather was doing, but he’d already packed up and was scampering out the back with his client in tow.  What a weasel.  She gathered her notes, debating if she could pretend she hadn’t heard the judge’s order-disguised-as-a-question and follow Mather.

She heard a discreet cough.  Tony, Judge Wilkins’s – no, Judge McIntyre’s deputy – was standing by the door to the right of the bench, holding it open for her.  He had a solemn look on his face, but the way his lips were twitching, she could tell he was having the time of his life.  In his years with Judge Wilkins, he’d undoubtedly never seen anything like this.  But then Judge Wilkins was a grandmother several times over, so Elise guessed things were a bit livelier with a thirty-something judge dubbed “Blackjack” by the press.

She shoved her notes and the motion papers in her bag, then squared her shoulders and followed Tony along the hallway to judge’s chambers.  When she got there, Blackjack – she really had to stop thinking of him like that – Judge McIntyre was hanging up the robe.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” he asked her.  “Brenda might have some cookies – ?”

“No.”  She held her briefcase with both hands as if it were a shield.  If anything, he looked even taller without the black robe.  She added hastily, “But thank you.”

She forced her shoulders to relax.  “Could you just explain to me what happened in there?  Because we both know that you don’t – that you aren’t –”

“In love with you?  Oh, but I am.”  He signaled that she should sit.

Elise wanted to stay standing – it felt more formal and provided a better exit strategy – but she really needed to get off her gummy-worm legs.  She sank into the chair.  Judge McIntyre donned his suit coat, adjusted the cuffs, smoothed his tie, and then sat in the other armchair.  He was the picture of urbane confidence.

Then he smiled at her.  Really smiled.  Even his eyes crinkled.

Oh, God.  He was so freaking gorgeous.  Warm and friendly and – where had Judge Freeze-Dried gone?  If he’d smiled at her like that in court, Elise’s backbone would have given out.  Thank God he hadn’t.

She shouldn’t be surprised.  She’d seen the coverage of his prosecutions.  Hell, he’d been the darling of the media all the time he’d been the U.S. Attorney.  But nothing – not the press conferences, the photos in the newspaper, the quick TV interviews in front of the courthouse – none of it prepared Elise for the sheer power of his smile in person.  She prided herself on her immunity to a shimmering-white smile and laughing eyes.  But on Blackjack – the appeal was palpable.  She could feel it weakening her resolve, but then that made her madder at him.

She sat up straight.  “You simply can’t be in – ”   She refused to utter the L-word.  It seemed a bad move tactically, as though it gave his delusion validity.  “You don’t know me.”

“That’s true, but obviously I’d like to change that.  Dinner this evening, perhaps?”

“No.”  She shook her head for emphasis.

He cocked his chin.  He considered her as though she was an intriguing exhibit in the Natural History Museum.  “I’m sorry.  Are you in a relationship?  You don’t wear a ring, so I’m afraid I assumed—”

She pounced on that.  “See?  You don’t know anything about me, including my status, my sexual orientation, anything.  And I think it would be best if it stayed that way.”  Please let that be enough to get him to stop sending out those hot-guy lures.  The effect of his personality – insidious and disarming – was scaring her.  She might be immune, but his was a particularly potent strain.  She made a move to stand up.

He rose politely.  He seemed to do everything elegantly.  Elise began to hate him.

“I can’t agree, of course,” he murmured.  “I had thought I’d have time to learn a bit about you before I asked you out.  But the rules for judicial conduct rather interfered with that plan.  I apologize for taking things out of order.”

Declaring his uh, feelings before they’d even been introduced did seem back-to-front, but Elise was more worried about this idea of him checking her out.  That sounded ominous.  “How were you planning to learn about me?” she asked.  He’d been the U.S. Attorney for years.  He was bound to have lots of ways to investigate people.  She felt like a butterfly pinned to a collector’s wax tray.

“I was going to ask my fellow judges.”  He flashed a boyish grin, like he’d been caught with chocolate frosting around his mouth and a cupcake behind his back.

Elise studied the carpet.  She could imagine that judicial lunch table discussion all too well.  “Please don’t,” she begged.

He moved toward her.  He smelled nice, something slightly spicy.  She liked it.  Damn him.  She clenched her teeth and took a step closer to the door.  She clutched the back of the chair, keeping it between her and the judge.  She checked: it would be too heavy to lift for that classic lion tamer move.

“You know they’re going to tell me anyway,” he pointed out.  “This story is undoubtedly already making the rounds.”

Elise closed her eyes at that image.  The horror kept mounting.  And it was only Monday.  She had a deposition tomorrow with Jerry Slezak representing the other side.  He was going to rib her unmercifully.  She could hear his laugh, like the braying of a donkey, at her expense.

But she wasn’t going to give Jack McIntyre the satisfaction of knowing he’d just made her professional life uncomfortable.  She let go of the chair, picked up her briefcase and held out her hand.

“It’s been very interesting meeting you, Judge McIntyre.  Congratulations on your elevation to the bench.  I’m certain it’s my loss that I won’t be appearing again in your courtroom.”  There.  Neatly done.

He just laughed.  “Oh, I’m sure we’ll be meeting again soon,” he said as they shook hands.  He released her immediately.  Good.  She was relieved, of course she was, that he didn’t try to use their handshake as an opportunity to touch her a bit longer.  She ignored the memory of his warm fingers on her skin.

He edged an inch and a half closer.  His scent pulled at her – it wasn’t just an aftershave, it was his own pheromones, wasn’t it?  And defendants had probably tripped over their own feet to confess when they saw that smile.

Elise steeled herself.  That was his Blackjack superpower.  She couldn’t get involved with anyone like that – it would be like putting jet fuel in a compact car.  She went for the let’s-have-a-few-dates-and-some-fun guys, not legal celebrities who owned their own tuxedos.  She had to leave before his good looks and charm worked their evil magic on her.  Once she was gone, his delusion would lift, he’d shake his head at his own zany notion, and find a new lanky brunette to take to the next charity ball.

Judge McIntyre – Elise thought it sensible to use his formal title even in her head – opened the door for her.  Elise ignored his murmured words of farewell as she passed him.  She ignored Brenda and the two law clerks hovering in the outer office.  She ignored the head poking out of Judge Richards’ chambers at the end of the hall.  Elise kept her head up and her game face on as she left the building.

It had stopped raining.  The cool air had a loamy tang, a whiff of another Philadelphia spring just starting.  The trees in front of the Rohm & Haas building were just beginning to bud out.  Elise ignored the cab that slowed to a crawl in invitation.  Walking back to the office would allow her some time to decompress before she had to face her colleagues at Fergusson.

By the time she’d passed City Hall and turned toward the Art Museum, she’d regained some perspective.  Maybe everyone knew that Blackjack McIntyre was a practical joker.  Maybe it was Rag-On-Elise Day and no one had told her.  What mattered was that she had behaved professionally.

Sure she would take some ribbing from—well, everyone, but then it would die down.  McIntyre had to look worse in those stories than she would, right?  He’s the one who made a fool of himself, declaring his – his romantic interest in a total stranger.

Except, when she tried to imagine someone laughing at Blackjack McIntyre, she couldn’t make the picture gel in her mind.  He was a lot of things, but unintentionally funny wasn’t one of them.  Youngest U.S. Attorney in the Eastern District, and now youngest district court judge?  Great-looking and boasting a ridiculously high conviction rate?  He was more legendary than ludicrous.

Elise paused at the building entrance.  Remember, she told herself, when you can control your breathing you can control everything.  Except a certain judge, perhaps, but breathing was a start.  Plus, she was too experienced to let other lawyers and judges see how flustered she might be.  Of course now everyone in court would look at her and think, there goes the woman Blackjack…

Just like that Elise thought of a way to make Blackjack McIntyre’s formidable reputation work to her advantage.

As soon as she got to the comforting clutter of her office, she called Bart Mather.  After he answered, she said, “Hey, Bart, I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to hang around to talk to you after the hearing.”

“Ah, Ms. Carroll, the judge’s pet.”  His voice held a smirk.

Elise had rehearsed this part in the elevator.  “Yup, that’s me.  I appear to be the flavor of the month, don’t I?” she said with a sunny voice.

“More like the joke of the day.”

“You think so?”

“Hell, by now the entire courthouse’s laughing about you,” he crowed.

“I guess so,” Elise drew the words out as though this was a happy accident she was just now appreciating.

That smile in her voice seemed to stop Mather.  “Wait –” he sputtered.

Time to take the offensive.  “In fact, I think this may not be a bad thing,” she told him.  “Lord knows I didn’t ask for Judge McIntyre to notice me, let alone make an announcement of that sort, but I figure it’s got one obvious benefit.”

“What’s that?”  Mather hesitated, as though he was scared to hear the answer but even more terrified not to know.

“Our little case has a much higher profile now.  It’s going to get special attention, don’t you think?”

“Uh….”

Elise imagined she could hear him slump in his chair.  Time to go for the kill shot.  “After all, the next judge to get the case is going to know all about me – and Blackjack McIntyre.  I worry that our little case is going to get a lot of attention.  Maybe—maybe the new judge isn’t going to want to upset me if he – or she – thinks that would get back to their sexy new star judge,” she said slowly, as if she was still working out all the ramifications.

She paused deliberately, but Bart stayed silent.  Except for some unhealthily heavy breathing.  He should exercise more, if panic could make him sound like that.

“But that’s hardly fair to either of our clients.  So I was thinking this might be a good time to talk about settlement, Bart.  What do you say?”  Elise swiveled her chair back and forth as she waited for him to respond.

“What’s the offer?” he asked weakly.

“The suit and countersuit are both dropped, and my client makes a small payment to defray Mr. Everton’s legal fees.”

“How much?”

The client had authorized her to go higher, but she wanted to lowball Mather.  “$10,000.”  That should cover the legal fees with a bit left over to sweeten the deal.

“I’ll ask my client,” Mather said in a defeated voice.

Elise tried to sound mildly regretful.  “Okay, Bart.  I’m going to miss all that attention as Blackjack’s honey, but I’ve got to put my client’s interest ahead of my own.  You know?”

“Right.”  He really should have a doctor listen to that chest.

“Bye, Bart,” she said.  After they’d hung up she felt buoyed by how easy it had been.  Her lungs filled with a powerful mix of oxygen and competence.  A strange way to get a good outcome, but it was an ill wind and all that.

Elise stood up, ignoring her overflowing in-tray and the files lined up on the credenza.  She wanted to share the events of the morning, but Christine was meeting the bankruptcy trustee in some case.  What a crappy time to have a fellow lawyer as a best friend, particularly one even more overloaded with work than Elise was.

She could call her mother – nah, Peggy would be at work by now and anyway, Elise’s efforts to explain her professional life to Peggy never went well. Plus, Elise didn’t really want her mother to know what Judge McIntyre had said.  She’d never understand that it didn’t mean anything romantic.

Time to report in to Geoff.  Elise went down to his corner office, its size and airiness evidence of his success in the firm.  He was on the phone, but his secretary spotted her.  “He wants to talk to you,” she said and waved Elise in.

Elise could imagine why Geoff wished to talk to her.  He was friendly with at least three judges she could name.  No way this nugget of twenty-four carat gossip hadn’t made it to Geoff’s ears.

He wound up his phone call as soon as she walked in.  His grin looked spectacularly white against his chocolate brown skin.  “Ah, there you are.  Quite the day in court, I gather.”

“You can say that again.”  She took her seat and crossed her legs with as much serenity as she could fake.  Just as though she got hit on by federal judges every day of the week.

“What sort of voodoo did you use on Blackjack anyway?  He’s like a Svengali with women.  Usually they fall hard for him.  My sources are atwitter with speculation about you, you know.”

Elise leaned forward.  “Geoff, how long have I been working with you?”

He had to think about that.  “Five years?” he guessed.

“Seven.  The point is, you’ve known me pretty much every day of my professional life.  Am I even remotely the type to attract a player like McIntyre?”

Geoff frowned.  “That’s one of those trick questions, right?  Like ‘Have you stopped beating your wife?’”

“No.  It’s a no-fault question.  I know the answer.  I’m not glamorous, not exotic, not particularly eye-catching.  So I have no clue why Blackjack McIntyre said what he did.  All I know is that I didn’t do anything to prompt it.”

“Well, with that hair, I think you’re certainly eye-catching, but never mind that.  What did he say, exactly?” Geoff asked.  He leaned forward, eager for her answer.

Elise eyed him cautiously, but Geoff was a straight shooter.  He wasn’t trying to set up a joke with her as the punch line.

“Didn’t your friends in the courthouse tell you?” she stalled.

“What they told me was that he recused himself because he’s in love with you and that you argued with him.”

“That’s about it.”

“But what precisely did he say?”

She didn’t have to think about it.  The whole thing was still vivid in her mind.  “He told Mather he had to recuse himself.  I wanted him to state his reasons for the record, so cool as you please he tells us to step back.  He says he can’t hear the case because he’s in love with counsel for the defendant.”

She grimaced, but forced herself to go on.  “I protested.”  She caught Geoff’s eye.  “Yeah, I know.  No matter what, you thank the judge.  But c’mon, that was just outrageous what he did.  Anyway, I pointed out, for the record, that we’d never met, which he admitted.  Then he asked if I’d heard of love at first sight.”

“Now this is the part I want to hear,” Geoff said.

“Good lord, the gossip got this specific?” Elise said.  She shook her head at the appetite for detail, but it might as well come out.  “I said something about ‘love at first sight’ being like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.”

“Cynic.”

“Yes, I am.  And my clients are damned glad of that,” she retorted.

“So you say he’s not in love with you?”

“Of course he isn’t.  He can’t be.  You don’t see someone and think, I’m in love with her.”  Elise wasn’t stupid – hers was not the face to inspire that sort of reaction.  She had good legs, but the judge couldn’t have seen them from the bench.  “At most, you might think, Wow, that person’s really gorgeous.”  Which Blackjack undoubtedly was.  And she wasn’t.

“Well, what’s your theory, then?  Why’d he say it?” Geoff asked.

“Hell if I know.”  Elise leaned back and focused on Geoff’s array of diplomas and credentials while she thought about it.  “He’s the hottest thing in that courthouse, which may not be saying much, but he is.  And I’m not in his league.  Which – ” she said hastily at Geoff’s look, “ – is fine with me.  I don’t need the aggravation.”

“How did you leave it with him?”

“Courthouse gossip didn’t get that part, hunh?”

Geoff laughed.  “No.”

“He asked me out, I said no.  He asked if I was married.  I pointed out that this was the flaw in his crazy declaration – he knows nothing about me.  He said he was going to find out and admitted he’d ask the other judges.”  Elise made a “puh-leeze” face worthy of a new teenager.  “Just what I need.  I said ‘No’ rather more forcefully, and left.”

“You think that’s going to be enough to stop him?”

“Of course,” she said.  It had to be.

“El, his conviction rate as U.S. Attorney was damn near perfect.  He’s scored a judgeship at a crazy young age.  They’re already talking about how long it’ll be before he’s appointed to the appellate court.  Or running for the Senate.  The guy’s golden.  Basically, he doesn’t lose.”

Elise stared out the window.  She wasn’t going to listen to this.  No meant no.  But then Jack McIntyre took possession of her imagination, dark suit, red tie and glowing smile, and Elise’s tension twisted her gut.  Maybe she wouldn’t be able to keep saying no.  He really did look like a superhero.  And he smelled absurdly good.  How long could she resist the alchemy of Blackjack’s charm?  “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“Well, he’s still a gentleman, from all I hear,” Geoff offered.  “Of course, I suspect that just means he’ll find a way to be very, very persuasive.”

Ten years convincing defendants to confess and juries to convict.  She pictured Blackjack’s eyes, his lips, his fingers, and she shuddered.  “Hell.”

“Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?”

It took Elise a moment to get the joke.  “Ah, yes, the case.  Well, I think I may get the other side to settle, thanks to that man.  I called Bart Mather and mentioned how popular I’m going to be with virtually every judge in the courthouse, so perhaps his client would like to settle.  I seriously low-balled him and he didn’t even squeak.”

“You think he’ll get his client to settle?”

“Yup.  There’s now nothing good in it for Mather, and he’s such a snake he’ll dump his client rather than continue with a case that can’t be won.”

“Nice.  Go tell the client.”

Elise rose.  She focused on savoring the client’s pleasure when she relayed her news.  Best of all, they were in Cincinnati, and surely the gossip about her and Blackjack McIntyre hadn’t made it that far.  Yet.

“Oh, and Elise?” Geoff said.

She paused at the doorway.  “Mm-hmm?”

“I don’t need to tell you that the firm’s official position on this morning’s events is akin to ‘Hear No Evil,’ do I?”  Geoff looked stern in a way Elise had never seen before.

Her stomach filled with lead.  “No, you don’t.”

“Do with Jack McIntyre what you will, but don’t give the firm any reason to take an official position, okay?”

The image of the head partners as three willfully ignorant chimps might be amusing, but Elise knew exactly what Geoff was saying.  Don’t embarrass the firm.

She had to get rid of Blackjack McIntyre before he ruined her career.