I parked myself on a bench outside courtroom 302, not sure whether I’d be sitting here for fifteen minutes or three hours.
After Michael left my apartment last night, I needed a shoulder to cry on, and I phoned Cai. She cancelled her date and came right over to help me finish the branzino Michael hadn’t stuck around for and to listen to my teary lament that I may have just ended my relationship. It had been a head-spinning evening as I tried to understand how I felt about what had happened. I wanted Michael in my life, but I wasn’t going to be pressured into something I wasn’t ready for. Ultimately, I’d need to live with the consequences, even if that meant Michael needed to move on.
Although Cai was empathetic about my emotional state, she also wasn’t the girlfriend to call if I’d wanted a partner for a pity-party sob session with all the feels. She was the chick I called when I needed to be listened to thoroughly, then kicked firmly in the ass with reality.
Her advice was, “Don’t give an inch on this. You’d be starting out with the power dynamics catering to his needs, rather than as partners. And the precedent would be set.” It was a hard-to-hear but completely accurate truth that held even when the temptation to call him and apologize gripped me.
We’d spent the balance of the evening enjoying wine and fish and braised endive and after the consoling was done, talking about anything other than our respective romantic lives. The conversation bounced from her irritation with a new associate to a cute new boutique that had just opened in the neighborhood and my search for tile for my guest bathroom.
Thankfully, Zipsdefender had been leaving her alone and no additional tweets had found their way to her account. During the course of the evening, Cai updated me on the new domestic court judge that had been assigned to the Panici case. They were scheduled to be back in court today for one of their endless minor squabbles. The judge wasn’t someone I was familiar with, but I felt sorry for him already, imagining the drudgery of reading through the drivel-filled history, let alone the animus they’d be unleashing.
Panici was somehow connected to Striker Farnsworth and to Selciatto and Abbiocco, and he had a hatred for Judge Reynolds. And I wanted to know why. So here I sat, stalking the guy and wondering about the barrage of information he and his estranged wife were likely shooting at the new judge as they jockeyed to draw first blood.
Rastello and Farnsworth were easy enough to speculate about. Rastello wanted a project to go forward that Striker could make happen, and it wasn’t their first deal. A bribe was interesting in itself, but there could be more to whatever this deal was. And I didn’t know how Panici fit in.
Fifty minutes later, the doors opened and Rae Panici flew out in a huff, marching toward the stairs. Her eyes were so full of anger she seemed ready to shoot fire at anyone who crossed her path, and her mouth was set into a thin, angry line. She wore a skirt so tight her panty line had panty lines. Interesting wardrobe choice for court, but I’d seen worse. Obviously, the hearing had been a shit show, and Rae was livid. Oh, to have been a fly on that wall.
A tall thin man in a cheap suit that screamed of a two-for-the-price-of-one sale, hustled down the stairs behind her, battered briefcase in hand, a look of utter confusion on his face. Clearly, this was the poor sap she’d been using as her divorce attorney, and I followed the pair down. Rae was five steps ahead of him when she spun around, having reached the lobby. Her floral-print blouse strained over her chest, threatening to expose even more of her ample cleavage.
“Why didn’t you fight back?” she yelled, loud enough for half the lobby to hear. “You sat there and let him run all over these proceedings again! That was another fifteen hundred dollars in legal fees down the toilet and an hour of my time listening to that windbag ex-husband of mine pontificate on how he’s smarter than everyone else. That judge didn’t even try to stop him. And you didn’t do any better. What the hell am I paying for? Show some fight.”
“Rae, we’ve talked about this,” the attorney said. “These games Felix is playing are wearing thin on the court. This is a new judge, and I know you’re not happy about it, but he’s read the history. He knows this was Felix showing more disrespect for the court and the legal process. Give the judge the benefit of the doubt. He was seeing Felix at his legal worst for himself. We’re not backtracking here. Trust me. I know how to handle guys like Felix. We win by being the calm, rational party. The more balanced we are, the crazier Felix looks, and the more the court will agree that you are the one telling the truth.”
He was using his inside voice, but calm and rational were not words to define Rae’s current state, and quite frankly I wasn’t sure they ever were. Hopefully, this attorney had other legal tricks up his sleeve, because she was having none of it. They seemed like an odd match, and it made me wonder why Rae hadn’t chosen someone with more fire in his belly.
“You might know this judge and this world, but trust me, you don’t know shit about how Felix operates.” Her hands flew as she spoke, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot as if the effort to contain herself was too much. My guess was that this attorney had a short future with her if he didn’t start pulling more punches.
The attorney’s attempts at placating Rae were proving woefully ineffective. He stammered and shrugged and wrung his hands while her pressure cooker of frustration built. She was about to lose whatever semblance of composure she had left if this guy didn’t come up with something better than vague assurances. She needed to vent and didn’t care where she was or who heard her spew venom despite the inappropriateness of the setting. Glancing nervously at those witnessing her outrage, the attorney laid a hand on her arm and made a shushing sound. The guy was not reading the room.
“Don’t patronize me! You don’t know the world Felix lives in. Your world is rules and order. Felix thinks he’s above all that because most of the time he is. Your idea that we sit quietly and play nice will do nothing to stop his games or get this case finalized. Don’t you dare treat me like some helpless female who needs to do what she’s told. You are replaceable. Just like husbands.”
I stood silently off to the side, taking in every word and pretending to be engrossed in my phone. What did she mean that Felix thought he was above the rules? Above the law? Or was this just an off-handed angry comment from a wife with a narcissistic, arrogant husband? I supposed both could be true. As I watched her chastise her attorney, I also contemplated what she might have meant by “Felix’s world.” The men were in different stylistic camps regarding how they practiced law, that was clear, and presumably how they lived their lives, but her comment seemed to have a more corrupt undertone, as if Rae was hinting at something darker.
The clomp of heavy feet echoed, and Felix Panici strode into the lobby, a smug smile on his face. He walked right up to his estranged wife and her counsel, visibly proud of himself for his performance. And performance it clearly was. I didn’t need to have been in the courtroom to know this man was gloating. I had no way of knowing if Rae’s attorney was correct about the judge seeing through Felix’s charade, but this man thought he had just scored.
“Hey, Rae, thanks for makin’ my day. I love watching cut-rate attorneys get their asses handed to them. Where’d you find this schmuck? An ad on the back side of a toilet stall?” Felix said, standing just five feet away.
A flush of red crept up the side of the attorney’s neck, but he didn’t take the bait. Rae huffed and stepped toward her estranged husband, but counsel laid his hand on her arm again, slowing her down, cautioning her. She didn’t respond, simply glared back at her husband.
Panici smirked and kept the taunts flowing.
“I’m running rings around this fool you hired, and you’re both too stupid to see it. This guy is so outmatched I almost feel sorry for him. Nah, not really. I’m havin’ too much fun. That bitch you hired for your franchise deal, at least she’s got a few neurons bouncing around compared to this bozo. But you’re not gonna win there either. I’ve got plans for you, and this moron, who thinks he can play with the grown-ups, he needs to go back to the kiddy pool. I’ve got tricks he hasn’t even thought about. You’re going to be begging me, Rae, begging me to make it stop.”
Rae hissed at him like a rattler about to strike. Her eyes narrowed, and if her attorney hadn’t been holding her back, she appeared ready to throw her best right hook. The attorney looked from husband to wife to the growing audience of concerned onlookers, his mouth opening and closing as if words were eluding him.
“Face it, you’re outmatched,” Felix continued. His sadistic sneer was something even I felt in my gut. “You can’t outsmart me. You know that, don’t you? You’re just some barkeeper’s daughter who’s never moved out of the neighborhood. Go back home and style hair. Do something useful.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are!” Rae twisted away from her attorney’s grip and came at her husband. They squared off, bodies close, animus oozing from each of them. It felt like a posture they had played out before.
“I’m the guy who is going to watch you grovel and spit on you when you’re down thrashing in the dirt like the pig you are.”
Rae moved first, her arm drawing back for the swing. Her attorney reached out a hand again, but she swatted at him like a fly, letting her anger fuel her punch. Felix opened his eyes wide as Rae’s hand slammed his cheek, then the sneer slid back until she flew at him with the other hand, pummeling him left, right, left, right, face, chest, anywhere she could make contact.
Felix laughed, then let his own fists fly, hitting Rae in the eye, but she didn’t go down. Her attorney did what he could to pull her back, and a man watching the melee stepped between the pair, who were now screaming obscenities at each other, while another bystander maneuvered Felix away from his wife.
“You think you can hurt me?” Rae screamed, arms flailing while her attorney strained to hold her back. Spit flew as she screamed at him, and her carefully done hair was flying into her face. “What are you going to do, send me on a long trip? You think because you’re connected, you can shut me up? You think I don’t have an insurance policy? If anything happens to me, you are the first person the boys in blue are going to come looking for. I know where every body is buried, don’t I, Felix. And I hope that keeps you sweating for the rest of your life.”