All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

I send a quick text to Finn, and then watch as Mom sets a plate in front of me with a sad smile.

“Do you forget very often?” I ask softly.

“No,” she says, shaking her head, but I’m not sure that’s true. “Don’t worry about me, Finn.”

“Quinn,” I correct her. “I’m Quinn, Mom.”

“Of course.”

Chapter Three

~Sienna~

I love court days. The hustle and bustle energizes me, and I’ve always enjoyed a good argument.

Always.

Just ask Lou.

But today, I’m more than a little nervous. This time is personal, not to mention, Quinn will be sitting across the aisle from me.

No matter how often I tell my libido to shut the hell up, that Quinn is opposing counsel, it doesn’t seem to pay attention. There’s a chemistry there that I haven’t felt in a very long time.

Of course it happens now, with him. Because that’s just my luck when it comes to men. It’s the ones who aren’t good for me, or that I can’t have, that I’m attracted to.

My man picker is broken.

I can’t say that I’ve been to estate court since law school. It’s not my area of expertise, and my boss at the city may not like me taking this case. But I’ve already decided that if we don’t resolve this today, I’ll take a leave of absence until the allegations against my grandfather are proven false, and things can go back to normal.

I’m not letting another attorney near this.

The judge walks into the room, and we all stand. She announces the case, then looks over to Quinn.

“Mr. Cavanaugh, it’s my understanding that you’re asking for a deed to be formally filed in regard to the property in question.”

“Yes, Your Honor. I have the promissory note here.”

A bailiff takes the paper to Judge Maxton, who slips on her glasses and reads it, then looks over at me.

“Ms. Hendricks, have you read this?”

“I have, Your Honor, but I question its validity. I don’t know that it’s authentic, and if it is, Mr. Cavanaugh can’t prove that the money wasn’t paid back.”

“Is this true?” Judge Maxton asks Quinn.

“The letter isn’t a fake,” he says. “It’s written by hand, and both parties signed it.”

“Has it been authenticated?” Judge Maxton asks.

“No,” Quinn replies, a muscle ticcing in his jaw, and I know he’s irritated.

“Your Honor,” I begin and stand behind my table. “I would like to file a motion for quiet title, given the question of its authenticity.”

She looks back and forth to both of us, then down at the letter again.

“I’m not going to rule in your favor right now,” she begins, and I feel my heart sink. “However, I am going to give you thirty days from today to research and plead your case.”

“Your Honor, I don’t think we need thirty days to wrap this up,” Quinn says, but Judge Maxton is shaking her brunette head.

“This case is a century old, Mr. Cavanaugh. She’s not going to find her evidence in seventy-two hours, you need to have this letter authenticated, and my docket is full for thirty days. If I rule now, you won’t like the outcome.”

“I would argue that I need more than thirty days to prove this is fake,” I counter, and Judge Maxton raises an eyebrow.

“Fine,” she says with a sigh. “It’s unprecedented, but given the age of the case, I’m ordering the two of you to work together to find the evidence you need.”

Quinn and I stare at each other in shock, then both sit as we wait for her to look at the calendar.

“We will reconvene at 8:00 a.m. on Tuesday, August sixth. Adjourned.”

I stand, reach for my briefcase, and am surprised when I turn and see Uncle Patrick sitting in the courtroom. I walk over to him, as he stands to give me a hug.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to hear what the judge had to say, and it’s always a pleasure to watch you in action,” he says with a smile. “You did great.”

“I bought some time,” I agree with a sigh. And now I’m forced to work with Quinn Cavanaugh. “Do you want to catch some lunch?”

“I have some things to see to, so I’ll have to take a rain check. You did great today. Your grandfather would be proud.” He kisses my cheek and walks away, and I sit in the chair for a moment, just to gather myself. It really was probably the best outcome for today. The deed wasn’t filed, and I have time to prove that this whole thing is ridiculous.

The fact that it’s even in question is what makes me crazy. The money must have been paid back, if it was ever lent in the first place.

Which I highly doubt.

Now, I have to decide what my next course of action is. I’ll go to my office and talk with my boss, Dave. He’s smart, and he’s always the best person to brainstorm with.