Her Secret Rival
"Your Honor, what matters most here? A hunk of tin and four wheels, or that three children get to spend Christmas with the mom they love?"
Megan Merritt knew that in describing a Mercedes CLK500 convertible as a hunk of tin, she risked losing the sympathy of Judge Potter, presiding over Courtroom 1-C in Atlanta's Fulton County Superior Court. But she'd weighed that risk and decided the need to keep her client out of jail justified it.
She clasped her hands in front of her so she wouldn't fiddle with the button on her pale gray suit jacket. "When my client was driven to deface her husband's car—" deface being a euphemism for pour paint stripper over "—she was conscious only that he'd made love with his mistress in that car, while his children waited for a father who never showed up to kiss them good-night." Megan kept her voice low and neutral. Despite the emotional subject, she was presenting facts. Theatrics weren't her style.
Judge Potter pursed his lips, removed his spectacles and polished them with his handkerchief. Megan took that as disapproval of Mrs. Carter's failure to consider the consequences of her actions. Th ... read full excerpt from: Her Secret Rival ebook
