Olivia’s POV
I felt Maxwell nudge forward, "Go on, don’t keep the woman waiting."
My legs wobbled as I made my way to the stage. Then I rembered the dream I had this morning - about wigs falling off in front of a large crowd - and my fear intensified.
Keep your cool, Olivia. Don’t blow your cover in front of all these people, you’ll get served for fraud imdiately.
"Alright, Mr. Hopton, you’re going to cross-examine . I’ll be playing the role of a witness who claims to have seen a car accident. Your job is to discredit my testimony. The accident allegedly happened at 3 PM on a Tuesday in downtown traffic."
All eyes watched as I stood on the stage. Judge Lance was standing behind a podium, looking exactly like what she was - a witness who was about to destroy .
"Whenever you’re ready," she said with a slight smile.
I cleared my throat. Think, Olivia. This is your domain.
"Um... ma’am... where exactly were you when you witnessed this accident?"
"I was standing on the corner of the road, waiting for the light to change."
"And... and you’re sure it was 3 PM?"
"Absolutely. I had just left my dentist appointnt."
God, I hope this doesn’t end badly.
"Mr. Hopton," Judge Lance said gently, "what do you think you should ask next?"
The room was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. I was scared as hell, not because I couldn’t answer the question, but because anything could go wrong at this mont, crashing my entire world.
Taking a deep breath, I decided to be a man. I could handle this. My disguise was perfect when I left the bathroom this morning. Nothing could go wrong now.
"Ma’am, you said you were waiting for the light to change. How long were you waiting?" I asked with confidence.
"About thirty seconds, I’d say."
"And during those thirty seconds, what were you doing?"
"Just... waiting. Looking around."
"Looking around at what, specifically?"
"Well, there were people walking by, cars in traffic..."
"Were you looking at your phone at all during those thirty seconds?"
She paused. "I might have glanced at it."
"For how long?"
"Just a quick check of my ssages."
"And when exactly did this car accident occur during your thirty-second wait?"
"Right at the end, just as my light turned green."
"So you were looking at your phone, then looked up just as your light changed, and that’s when you saw the accident?"
"Well... yes."
I took a long pause.
"Ma’am, if you were looking at your phone and then imdiately looked at the traffic light, when exactly did you see the cars that were involved in the accident?"
Judge Lance smiled. "You know what, Mr. Hopton? I’m not entirely sure I did see them clearly."
The auditorium erupted in murmurs just then, with people nodding their heads in approval.
"Excellent work," Judge Lance announced as I made my way back to my seat on shaking legs. "Mr. Hopton just demonstrated sothing crucial - the importance of tiline questions. Never let a witness paint a perfect picture without examining the details of that picture."
I collapsed into my chair next to Maxwell, my heart still racing.
"Not bad, Hopton," he murmured.
I was still trying regain my composure when Diana appeared at the end of our row.
"Oliver! That was amazing up there," she gushed. "I’m even more interested in that dinner now. I look forward to seeing you tonight."
My mind raced for a polite way to decline.
"I really appreciate the offer, Diane, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it," I said carefully. "I have... other commitnts."
Before Diane could respond, Maxwell’s voice ca through.
"Actually, Mr. Hopton will be available tonight."
I whipped my head toward him, my eyes wide with shock. "I’m sorry, what?"
Maxwell leaned back in his chair. "You’ll be available for dinner tonight, Mr. Hopton. Your other commitnts have been... rearranged."
Maxwell Wellington!!!
"Sir," I said slowly, trying to keep my voice steady despite my growing panic, "I appreciate your concern for my social calendar, but I already have a girlfriend, and you know this..."
"That girl I saw you with the other day?" Maxwell interrupted, his tone dismissive. "She’s not good for you, Hopton. Diane here would suit you more."
I felt my mouth fall open in complete disbelief. The audacity of this man knows no bounds. So now he wants to set up everyone around him when his love life was already in shambles?
"What are you doing?" I hissed under my breath, leaning closer to him.
Maxwell’s green eyes glittered, "I’m looking out for you, Hopton. Networking. It’s all about networking."
Diane was watching our exchange with confusion, her smile faltering. "Oh, if you’re not interested, Oliver, it’s perfectly fine. I don’t want to impose or make things awkward..."
"Don’t worry about it, Diane," Maxwell interrupted, his voice becoming charming. "Oliver is just shy. He’s actually very interested in having dinner with you. He told so himself."
WAIT, WHAT? WHEN!!
I turned to stare at Maxwell with pure murder in my eyes. What is his ga? Why is he doing this to ?
"Actually, I never said..." I started to protest.
"You did," Maxwell insisted, "just now, you were telling how much you admired Diane and how you’d love to get to know her better. Weren’t you, Mr. Hopton?"
The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. He was daring to contradict him in front of Diane, knowing full well it would make look like a complete liar or, worse, soone who talked about people behind their backs.
I’m going to kill him. I’m actually going to murder him in his sleep. Tonight.
"I..." I glanced at Diane, who was looking hopeful again, then back at Maxwell, who was wearing an insufferable smirk. "I suppose I might have ntioned..."
"Wonderful!" Diane bead, her entire face lighting up.
This is a nightmare. This is an actual nightmare.
Just then, Judge Lance joined us and her eyes landed on Maxwell imdiately. She reached out and pulled him into a loving embrace.
"How’s my favorite nephew doing?" Judge Lance asked, pulling back to cup his face in her hands like a little child’s.
Nephew? NEPHEW?
Judge Lance is Maxwell’s AUNT?
What?!
"I’m fine, Aunt Cassandra," Maxwell replied, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. "Just keeping busy."
"You look tired, sweetheart," she said, fussing over him like a concerned mother. "Are you eating properly? Getting enough rest? You know you work too hard."
"I’m taking care of myself," Maxwell assured her, though I noticed he didn’t try to pull away from her motherly attention. "Work is just demanding, that’s all."
"Well, demanding or not, you need to pace yourself," Judge Lance scolded gently. "Your mother would have my head if she knew I was letting you work yourself into the ground."
It was then that Judge Lance turned to look at . "And you, Mr. Hopton, that was a wonderful performance up there. Well done." She said sweetly, patting on the shoulder.
I smiled genuinely, grateful for the recognition from her.
"Maxwell told you’re also a lawyer - but due to so reasons he refused to spill - you beca his personal assistant?"
I tried not to look at Maxwell at that mont. Of course he wouldn’t relay his reasons to anyone. It was sothing he did out of pure spite.
"Yes, ma’am, you are correct." I managed, trying to stay coordinated. "It’s truly an honor to et you here today."
"The honor is mine," she replied graciously."
Diane imdiately spoke up.
"Your Honor, I’m Diane Ferdinand from the District Attorney’s office in New York. It’s wonderful to see you present in this conference, ma’am."
Judge Lance’s face lit up with recognition. "Diane Ferdinand! Of course! Your father and I were classmates at Harvard. How is Henry doing these days?"
Of course they went to Harvard together. Of course Diane cos from legal aristocracy just like Maxwell.
"He’s doing very well, thank you for asking," Diane replied warmly. "He always speaks fondly of your constitutional law study group."
And of course they were in study groups together. I’m surrounded by ancestors in the legal world.
"Well," Judge Lance said, glancing around the room at the other lawyers who were still pretending not to eavesdrop on every word, "I should let you guys get back to your discussion. Maxwell, I expect to see you for Sunday dinner this week. No excuses. And bring Mr. Hopton with you."
"Yes, Aunt Cassandra," Maxwell replied dutifully.
Sunday dinner? With Maxwell’s aunt? Oh my God. Oh my God. I can’t breathe. And why the fuck did he accept so easily? Couldn’t he have co up with an excuse for ?
As Judge Lance prepared to leave, she leaned down closer to , her voice low enough that only I could hear.
"Oliver, keep up your good work. Don’t let my nephew intimidate you too much - his bark is worse than his bite. He actually speaks about you quite often."
He speaks about quite often? What does that even an?
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