***** Reader note: Please realize as you read this that in the American Legal system described here, the accused is still innocent until 'proven' guilty. This means that 'charges filed' are nothing more than accusations. They are not 'true' until a Judge and/or Jury say they are true. They're only accusations!

With this in mind, read carefully. I feel a need to reiterate, all characters are over the age of 18 years. All activities described or referenced are with characters of 18 years or older.

Final reader note: This chapter has no sex. This one is for your brains not your sex organs unless, of course, you believe that your brain is a sex organ!

HERE COMES THE JUDGE

Life. Life doesn't hit PAUSE when you're having issues at home. Life still goes on. The appointment book still gets filled. Distracted or not, there's always another case--another client, another meeting.

Work. The Law keeps moving forward. Work. The Law, given enough time, gradually reveals a person, a truth. A secret kept well--but not perfectly.

The Law is not just words. The lawyer is merely a craftsman, who uses words as tools. Those can be blunt or subtle, plain or complex, direct or convoluted. Each word has a purpose. Each conversation is an opportunity to shape or reveal the truth. The Law and The Truth are all malleable, given the right words. Reality, not so much.

Jack was in the office early. Spencer was there. Jennifer was there. Even, Dr. Sam was there. Jennifer and Samantha were using the conference room; Jack and Spencer were in Jack's office.

"Can we talk a minute?"Jennifer asked, as she entered Jack's office.

"Jack, I'll just step into my office," Spence volunteered. "I'll let you know when the new client gets here." Spencer tried to make a dash for the door.

"Not so fast there, big guy. You're staying, too." Jennifer countered, bringing his escape to an abrupt halt.

"Evidently I'm staying for this, too, Jack."

Jennifer paced. With Jennifer, pacing was never a good sign. "Sit, Spencer!" she ordered, pointing to the empty chair next to Jack's desk. Spencer promptly sat.

"Why are you two representing this guy?" Enlighten me!

"Everyone deserves to be represented by an attorney when they have to go to court," Spencer declared, summoning as much dignity as possible.

Skeptically, Jennifer cocked an eyebrow. "Hmm, it's your case and your client. You thought it was interesting. You thought it would give you a chance to do 'law'. Oh, and it's just a little bit kinky. Am I right?" She didn't give him time to answer. "Okay so, why'd you give this one to Jack?"

"I don't think I can adequately represent him." What with my video induced priapism and all!

"Spencer Phillips, that's bottom-feeding lawyer bullshit! And you damn-well know it."

She stopped pacing and stared directly at them. First at Spencer, who looked away; then, at Jack, who knew better than to show any weakness whatsoever when it came to dealing with Jennifer.

Her eyes dilated for a split second. "You both watched that video tape?" This is about the tape.

They nodded their heads. Both men had the same thought, Oh shit! Here it comes.

She turned to Spencer. "How many times, Spencer?"

"I couldn't finish it." He broke eye contact again. Not exactly true; but, if Jack doesn't blow my small white-lie, I might live to see the inside of my office again.

Jennifer's voice was soft as silk. "Why? Did it make you have bad thoughts? Did it make you hard? Did you think of MacKenzie? Did you wonder, just for a second, what your little girl would be like in bed?"

"Jennifer, you have no right to ask that of me. You're out of line to even make that suggestion!"

"Did you?" She walked up to Spencer and slipped her fingers under the lapels of his jacket; then, never taking her eyes off his, she slowly slipped down to her knees at his feet. "Did you think about little MacKenzie on her knees? I know you, Spencer. Say it!"

He desperately wanted to be somewhere else; but, he whispered, "Yes." Jesus! Jennifer Grant, you're the scariest woman I've ever known. And, the sexiest. But, you don't play by any rules and that makes you dangerous.

"And that so-called feeling is why you can't 'adequately represent him'?" She reached up tracing the shape of his half erect cock with a finger tip.

"Yes."

Question answered! Her point made, Jennifer stood up. "Spencer, I love you; but, get out."

He did. Good luck, partner, I ain't gonna make her tell me that twice.

"And, you!" Turning on her heel, she pointed at Jack. "How many times have you watched it?"

"Jennifer, it's evidence in a case." Technically true.

"How many times, Jack?"

He glanced up at her; his throat was dry; but, he still swallowed. "Three, but..."

"God damn you, Jack Grant, three times?! That's not 'reviewing the evidence'; it's watching kiddie- porn."

He cleared his throat. "She's eighteen. She's not a child, Jennifer."

"Of course, Jack, you're absolutely right. It's just incest. You were only watching a dad have sex with his daughter three times." She put a finger on his chest and pushed hard. "Did you enjoy watching a father fuck his daughter? Did I phrase that right?" Does anything about all of this seem vaguely familiar to you, Jack Grant. Anything?!

"No, you didn't 'phrase that right'." Goddamn it, this is not about that.

"Did it make you hard, Jack?" She was now leaning on the edge of his desk, definitely in his face.

"Goddamn it, Jennifer!"

"Did you think about Nikki?" she hounded him. "What your daughter might look like, kneeling down and unzipping your trousers, reaching inside, and taking you out?" You did, didn't you?

"Jennifer, that's not fair. It's hitting way below the belt."

"Oh, not 'way below the belt', Jack! Only about eight inches, if I remember correctly. Look, this is me." She turned him to face her. "I know how much you like to watch." She sighed, deeply. "You just couldn't look away, could you?"

"He let someone watch him fuck her. With the video, you get to watch a father nut his own daughter, shot-after-shot. Does any this sound at all familiar to you?"

"Did you masturbate, watching the evidence tape?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

"You already did, Jack." You did, didn't you? Jesus, Jack.

"Jennifer, if you don't want to take this case I'll understand."

"Oh no, Jack Grant. I definitely do want this case. Hell, I may be the only lawyer in the courtroom who won't get hard, just thinking about the 'evidence' they have to present."

"Jennifer, he deserves a defense."

"No, Jack, he doesn't. Not everyone deserves a defense. This guy doesn't want a defense. He wants an audience."

"Jennifer, can we work together on this? The girl needs representation. And, it absolutely can't be someone from this office."

She rubbed her temples. "Let's get Spencer."

They walked out into the firm's commons. Jack got Spencer. The two of them watched as Jennifer started pacing again. Finally, she walked up to both of them. "Look guys, the first thing we have to do is get the girl to meet with me. Daddy's not going to like this, so you guys have to convince him it's in his best interests, or that the court will require it, or...something! I don't care. I don't give a shit how you do it; just convince him!"

"Okay."

"I can't do anything, until she's my client. Tell him that there's no charge. The cost is covered, if that matters."

They were interrupted as the office's front door swung open and the new client stepped into the commons area. The early morning sun poured through. All three turned around. The clean, clear golden sunlight made it quite an entrance.

A middle-aged man in a crisp business suit stepped through the door. He had a young woman with him. She was dressed in a simple summer dress with white sandals. The sunlight cut right through the girl's dress. It was crystal clear to everyone in the office that she didn't have panties on.

As the father closed the door and walked across the room, it became equally obvious that she didn't have a bra on either. She held her dad's hand in hers. The only thing Norman Rockwell would have added was a small well-loved teddy bear in her empty hand. Perfect innocence. The title of the painting: 'First Visit to the Family Attorney'.

The man extended his hand to Spencer. Spencer shook it. "Paul Traynor, this is Jack Grant. He's my partner, and he'll be conducting the interview."

Jack shook his hand.

"And, this is Jennifer Grant."

He extended his hand, and Jennifer shook it. "Mr. Traynor, I'm an attorney as well and Jack's former wife. I used to be a partner here with the boys; but, now, I have a small practice of my own."

Paul Traynor looked at Jennifer, then at Jack. Fascinating! He's at least twice her age. So, he likes it younger. How very interesting. "Ah yes, I see. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Grant--Jennifer," he greeted her dismissively.

The wheels in Jennifer's mind were spinning. I can't read much about you; but, it's quite obvious that you just wrote me off as being ineffectual. To you, I'm nothing more than ex-Mrs. Jack Grant. Well, Paul Traynor, you don't have much use for adult women do you? So, safe to say, you're not used to dealing with educated women. That's a rather peculiar blind spot for an educator, especially in this day and age.

As if to prove a point, Traynor immediately turned his attention back to Jack. "Jack, this is Chelsea, my daughter."

Jack reached out with his hand. Chelsea took it, looking up at him. Her eyes were arresting, huge and the darkest shade of emerald green Jack had ever seen. Her teeth were perfect and her innocent smile devastating. Long honey-blond hair was drawn back over her ears in a ponytail, which only made her look younger.

Soaking up the details, Jennifer watched the entire exchange with great interest. Chelsea worked the men deftly. Although the young woman never let go of her dad's hand, she held Jack's hand just a little too long. She even managed a coy little smile for Spencer. Daddy, on the other hand, was observing everyone. But, his attention was focused on Jack. He was very carefully studying how Chelsea affected Jack.

Well, looks like it's time that I helped get this show on the road, she decided. "Jack, Mr. Traynor, Spencer, Chelsea?" They all turned to face her. "I'll be in the conference room, if you need me," Jennifer announced causally and left the room.

On cue, Spencer turned to Paul. "I'll leave you two in good hands with Jack. Nice to meet you finally, Chelsea."

"Paul? Chelsea? If you'd both like to come to my office?" Jack invited.

Once in the office, everyone sat down. Paul Traynor sat comfortably. Chelsea sat demurely and, then, as Jack moved behind the desk, she relaxed her legs ever so slightly. Yeah, Jack thought, No panties. When he tore his eyes away and looked up, two emerald green eyes were studying him. And her smile was devastating. The smile was distracting. More importantly, the smile was knowing.

Jack cleared his throat. He shifted his gaze to Traynor, who was also smiling. "Paul, on second thought, I'm going to suggest we let Chelsea wait outside for a bit while we talk."

"But, don't you want to 'interview' her? You know, sit down in private and 'talk' with her? I'll understand if you want me to wait outside, while you two...you know, collect more evidence. But, if you want me to stay to make sure she's cooperative, I can. I might even enjoy watching you take her..." he paused, 'statement'." I wonder if they call it 'oral' testimony!

Jack stood. "No, that won't be necessary."

"Chelsea, you wouldn't mind spending some private time with Mr. Grant." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, Daddy, I don't mind. I'd love to talk with him. Just the two of us, alone in here."

Traynor smiled broadly. "Jack, Chels wore her very best Sunday School dress for you today; in case, you needed to talk with her privately." On cue, Chelsea opened her legs a little more. The smile she wore on her face said she was in her element. She knew what her dad was suggesting. She knew what her dad was offering. She knew what her dad expected her to do if Jack accepted.

"Would you mind, Chelsea?" Jack helped her to her feet, walking her to the office door.

She nodded her head, okay; but, her eyes got sad and her smile turned into the cutest pout. Disarmingly cute.

"Mary, can you come get Chelsea? And, give her something to drink while she waits?" He released the hand and introduced her. "Chelsea, this is Mary. Mary, this is Chelsea Traynor."

Mary took her away, closing the office door.

Traynor leaned forward in his chair. "Distracting isn't she?" Yeah, you're definitely distracted, he thought as he glanced at the front of Jack's trousers.

"Mr. Traynor, she's a very beautiful 'child'." Jesus, she looks even more innocent in real life than on the video.

Traynor chuckled. "Oh hell, Jack, no need for formality. Call me Paul. So, have you seen the tape?"

Have you watched me put the meat to my little girl?

"Tape?"

"Yeah, 'Under the Mistletoe'? I believe you lawyer-types refer to it as 'the 'evidence'."

"Yes, Paul, I've seen the tape," he acknowledged.

Traynor jumped on it. "How many times?"

Jack frowned; he needed to gain control of this encounter. "Enough to know you're in deep shit. Enough to know you need an attorney." More times than I care to admit!

"Yeah, I get all that; but how many times?" I wonder if you've beat-off watching it? I know I have.

"Let's talk about something important, Paul. Chelsea will need an attorney of her own."

"No. I want you to represent her."

"You don't understand. The court will require it, even if we don't."

"No!" He paused, considering the possibilities. "Why will they require it? I know why you want another attorney; it's more billable hours. That's it, isn't it?"

"The court will require it because of the nature of the charge," Jack explained professionally. "Her legal interests and yours are, in the eyes of the court, not identical. I can't represent her interests and yours both. There's almost a certainty of causing a 'conflict of interest'."

"Okay."

"As to the 'billable hours', there's no extra costs. I brought Jennifer in, because she has a source that pays for cases like this. It'll even lower your costs, because time spent with Chelsea will be covered."

"Okay," Traynor deadpanned.

"So, do I have your permission to let Chelsea talk with Jennifer and then if you approve, have Jennifer represent her in this case?"

"She'll be working with us?"

"Yes."

"And, you trust her?"

Jack nodded his head.

"Will your ex-wife take the case? Does she know what kind of case it is?"

"Yes."

Traynor cleared his throat. "Has she seen the tape?"

"Yes, I had her review the evidence." Interesting that you didn't ask, 'How many times?'.

"I thought what I told you was private!" Traynor pounced.

Jack kept his cool. "You and I enjoy attorney-client privilege, yes. What you tell me I can't divulge, unless it includes the intent and actual planning to commit a crime." So, for God's sake, if you're planning on continuing to fuck your daughter, don't tell me about it!

"Paul, I can show the tape to Jennifer because, technically, she's still listed as a member of this firm, one of its attorneys. But, because--in fact--she doesn't practice law out of this office, we don't need to isolate her from the information. She's clean as far as a court would be concerned. Her separate practice will work for us. It's what courts call a 'firewall'."

Jack quickly added, "But just so we're clear, the tape, as you call it, is in the DA's care; there's no privilege there. The person you had the Skype session with is a 'third person' within the meaning of the law. So, you probably don't have a reasonable expectation of privacy about acts you showed over the internet to another person. I expect they'll call him as a witness, if they can identify him."

Jack paused to let it all sink in. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"May I engage Jennifer to represent Chelsea?"

Paul Traynor nodded his head.

"Paul, you have to say the words out loud, so there can be no possibility I misinterpreted your response.

"Yes, Chelsea can have Jennifer Grant represent her," Traynor stated flatly.

"Hang on a second, I'll be right back." He walked to the conference room past Chelsea, who smiled at him. He smiled back. Why is it that every time I look at you, I picture you naked? God, you have great fucking knockers.

Jennifer looked up as Jack stepped into the room.

"He says, 'You may represent her'. But, get a signed agreement from her, Jennifer. You know you don't need his okay anyway, she's already eighteen."

"I know, but I don't think she will talk to me initially until he says it's okay. I don't want to lose her, Jack."

"Hang on." Jack walked back to Chelsea. He extended his hand. This gesture she understood. She smiled and stood up following him back to his office. Daddy must have convinced him to 'interview' me privately, in his office.

When he stepped inside the door, he said, "Chelsea, I talked with your dad. He and I agree that you need an attorney of your own. I talked with the woman you met this morning--Mrs. Grant, Jennifer. She has agreed to meet with you. If you want, she can be your attorney."

"Does it cost extra money?"

"No," Jack smiled. "Your dad and I talked. It doesn't cost anyone any extra money."

"Is it okay, Daddy?" she asked him, timidly.

Traynor nodded his head. Jack walked her to the conference room. "Chelsea, this is Jennifer. She's the best Family Practice lawyer in town."

Chelsea looked up at Jack and asked, "Better than you?"

He laughed and looked at Jennifer. "Yes, even better than me."

"I'll take it from here, Jack. And, thank you." For the first time all day, Jack saw her genuinely smile.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack closed the door and strode back across the firm to his office. Paul Traynor was holding a small framed photograph he'd taken off of Jack's desk. It was of Nikki a couple of years earlier at the tiller of 'Daddy's Girl' in a pair of shorts and a halter top, the aviator glasses, and the ball cap. The ocean was behind her and her hair was blowing in the wind. She was smiling. It was his favorite picture of her.

Studying the picture, Traynor asked, "This your wife when she was younger?" Jesus how old was she

here? You robbed the cradle, Jack Grant, but I can see why you married her. Look at that fucking

teenage body!

"No, that's my daughter."

"Your daughter!" Paul Traynor whistled softly. "Jesus, she's a little heart breaker." Christ, this girl is what seventeen, eighteen? Jennifer looks to be about mid-thirties. So, she was eighteen when she married Jack. He's in his mid-fifties. Yep, this guy definitely likes young pussy. And, check out the daughter; she looks just like her mom.

Mustering his professionalism, Jack took the picture from Traynor. "Yes, my daughter."

"Goddamn! That's one cute girl. She must be about my Chelsea's age. Must be tempting." Jesus, man, are you fucking blind? That's ready to take a cock, if I ever saw a ripe daughter. Don't you understand that if you don't take her, someone else sure-as-fuck will.

Growing impatient by the minute, Jack eyeballed Traynor. "We don't have time for this. The District Attorney wants to send your ass to jail and take Chelsea away from you. Can you think of even a single reason he won't?"