Shame on Him

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Bzzzzzzzzz.

The vibration of my cell phone forces the device to bounce across the wooden table in front of me. I pause for a moment to glance at the screen and see that it’s Paige calling. She knows I’m in court. She also knows I’m not to be interrupted unless someone is dying. With everything that has happened lately—drug lords trying to kill Kennedy, the mob going after Paige—my heart skips a beat.

While opposing counsel is busy stating his case to the court and the judge is looking away, I quickly grab my phone, hunch down in my seat, and bring it to my ear.

“Paige, what’s wrong? Is Kennedy okay?” I whisper as softly as I can.

I hear giggling on the other end of the line and then a squeal.

“Paige!” I whisper again, glancing up at Judge Robertson to make sure he’s still occupied with the defense.

Another burst of laughter comes through the phone and then Paige finally speaks. “Matt, seriously, that tickles!”

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