Prince Charming Wears a Badge Read Free

made a name for herself in the financial world. This could ruin her career.
    â€œI’ll ask for it to be expunged after you complete your therapy and community service,” Harvey said.
    Community service. You’ve got to be kidding. She pictured herself in a reflective vest as she picked up trash along I-270 on a hot July day.
    â€œI can probably get your community service limited to some pro bono tax returns for struggling businesses,” Harvey told her.
    That didn’t sound so bad. And she could probably handle a few sessions with a shrink. Heaven knew she had enough childhood stuff to fill a few hours.
    â€œOkay,” she finally said. “As long as it all gets expunged when I’m done.”
    Harvey addressed the judge. “There are two conditions we’d like to attend to, Your Honor. The matter of expunging Ms. James’s record and some kind of proof of the value of the vase.”
    Nice touch, Harvey . Paying for half wouldn’t be a financial burden for Callie, but the principal of paying for it definitely irked her.
    The judge made notes. “Those conditions are acceptable.” Then she turned to Andrew. “Mr. Slater, can you provide the court with a proper document?”
    â€œI’d be happy to do that, Your Honor.”
    Callie was tempted to wipe that smirk off his face but instead breathed in and out, in and out.
    The judge turned to the clerk. “Have both parties sign the appropriate documents.” She banged her gavel. “The court is in recess for fifteen minutes.”
    Everyone stood until the judge exited the courtroom through her private door. Loath to speak to Andrew ever again, Callie whispered to Harvey, “Get me out of here.”
    â€œCallie!” Andrew came up behind her as she hurried down the courthouse hallway.
    She slowed her pace but didn’t stop completely. “What?”
    Andrew hesitated a few seconds before blurting out, “I want my key back.”
    Of course he did . She stopped, dug through her hobo bag and struggled to remove his key from her ring. Instead of throwing it at him like she wanted to, she very smoothly held it out to him.
    He tossed it a few inches in the air and caught it, his pleasure at her expense almost more than she could bear. “You know I only want the best for you.”
    She stared at him, curious why he felt the need to say anything to her.
    â€œThat’s why I suggested the judge add therapy to the plea.”
    He’d suggested it? Then she was right about them all being in cahoots. She kept her tone neutral. “So you think I need to control my anger?”
    He shook his head. “No, I think you need to start expressing your feelings.” He looked down the hall to where his bed partner waited and then back at Callie. “You’re a wonderful person, Callie, but you’re as emotionally reserved as a rock.”
    * * *
    S EVERAL WEEKS AND anger management therapy sessions later, Callie’s therapist harrumphed and scratched his head. Nearly halfway into today’s session and he was clearly frustrated. Callie suspected he was trying to bring out some anger in her, or at least some kind of emotion. In her defense, she’d spent years bottling up those emotions and she wasn’t sure she knew how to unleash them. Or wanted to.
    Dr. Hammond seemed perfectly nice. He was a middle-aged man of average height, average weight and above-average intelligence as far as Callie could judge. Just not the person with whom she was comfortable sharing her innermost thoughts.
    â€œLet’s get back to your mother,” Dr. Hammond said in his monotone voice. “She died when you were very young?”
    â€œYes.” A pink bathrobe and fuzzy pink slippers constituted her faint memory of the woman who’d died when Callie was three. She didn’t even remember her face, forced to consult one of the few faded pictures she’d held on to.
    â€œWere