Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
He pushed his glasses up his nose again. “As I was saying, the State submitted your school records to show that you’re a terrible student. But do you want to know what I noticed?”
I looked at the judge, unsure if he actually wanted me to respond.
He sighed. “I asked you a question, so you may speak now, Mr. Langston.”
“Yeah, I want to know.”
“The word is yes, not yeah. And what I discovered on your record is—contrary to what your actions may lead one to believe—you are not dumb.” He picked up a paper and pointed to the top corner. “Did you have an SAT tutor?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you take a review course?”
“No, sir.”
He shook his head. “I’ve spent five grand on private tutors to try to get my son to a number that is a hundred points less than your score. Did you cheat on the exam, Mr. Langston?”
My eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Then you’re on your way to becoming what I like to call a Machiavellian Master. Do you know who that is?”
I nodded.
The judge frowned again. “Of course you do. You could probably write a whole paper on it even though you were absent the day the teacher taught about Niccolò Machiavelli.” He shook his head yet again. “Normally, I would throw the book at someone who has been arrested four times in a year. Your little Class D felony has a sentencing guideline of one to seven years. But today is your lucky day. I’m going to give you two options and let you decide your own fate, since you’re so smart. How does that sound?”
“Uh, I guess it depends on what my two options are.”
Judge Hanover’s mouth twisted to a sneer, and he wagged a finger. “See? You are smart. That’s why I’m giving you the choice of two islands.”
The courtroom door behind me burst open, and I turned to find my dumbass lawyer rushing in. Leonard took one look at me standing alone and the judge’s annoyed face and swallowed. “I’m sorry, your honor. I was down the hall for what was supposed to be a two-minute calendar call and got held up.”
“You joined us just in time, Mr. Adams. I was about to tell your client what was behind doors A and B.”
Leonard pushed through the swinging gate and dumped a half-dozen files on the table. “I’m sorry—door A or B?”
The judge rolled his eyes and shifted his focus back to me. “You’re probably the smarter of the two at that table anyway, Mr. Langston, so I’ll explain it to you. Walk through door A, and you get an all-expense-paid, seven-year vacation at the lovely Riker’s Island, compliments of the hardworking people of the state of New York. Walk through door B, and you get a four-year travel tour that kicks off at the lovely Parris Island in South Carolina and could end with you having a fighting chance in life.”
“Parris Island? Is that a jail?”
“No, Mr. Langston. It’s Marines boot camp.”
CHAPTER 8
* * *
Sutton
The following morning, I arrived at Apex early and dropped my stuff at my desk before heading to the breakroom for some much-needed caffeine. Jack Gallo was again inside. My footsteps stuttered, but the clickity-clack of my heels made him turn.
He smiled. “Good morning.”
“Hey.” I forced a smile—not sure why it had to be forced. Jack was a nice-enough guy. “Came up for the good stuff again, huh?”
He poured a drop of cream into his mug and lifted it to his lips. “I forgot how much better it is than the crap I buy on the street. How was your first day?”
“Good. Though I was introduced to so many people, I’m not sure I remember any of their names.”
He smiled and patted his chest. “I’m Jack.”
I chuckled. “I remember yours.”
He stepped away from the big espresso maker to make room for me, but leaned a hip against the counter, not going anywhere soon. “I was disappointed that we didn’t get matched together.”
I nodded. “We have a few things in common, so I thought it was a possibility.”
He sipped his coffee. “You would’ve been better off with anyone than the match you got.”
“Oh? Is Jagger not a good mentor?”
He shrugged. “He’s just difficult overall. He’s arrogant and thinks he knows better than everyone. The guy has an expensive management team in place to advise him, yet he does whatever the hell he wants.”
I felt oddly defensive. “Considering he made the Forbes Top 100 CEO list and is worth more than most of the Kardashians and Jenners, it sounds like whatever he wants must work pretty well.”
“I guess.” Jack shrugged. “I just hope he makes time for you. I know I would’ve.”
I finished making my morning cappuccino, feeling ready to end this conversation, but Jack walked out of the breakroom with me and followed me to my cubicle.