Objection, Your Honor

Chapter2: The Reluctant Guest

In a spacious office on the 40th floor in downtown Manhattan sat a young man. Handsome. Well-refined. Focused on a document on his glass table.

Adrian Cross.

27. Founder of CrossTech. Worth more than most people in the building made in 10 years. Dark blue suit, no tie, sleeves rolled up once. He looked like he owned the city and was tired of it.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” he said without looking up.

Another man, around his age, walked in. Same suit, but his was looser. He carried two coffees.

“Sir, don’t you think you have to honor Mr. Hart’s invitation,” Marcus said. Adrian’s assistant. Also his best friend since high school.

“Do I?” Adrian said, raising an eyebrow. He finally looked up from the contract. “I just got back in town and I’m supposed to attend a conference?”

“It’s not a must that you stay long,” Marcus said, setting the coffee down. “Just about an hour will do. Just to let him know we came. He sponsored our last server upgrade.”

Adrian sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Marcus.”

“Sorry,” Marcus said, already grinning. “You know I will not stop until you heed.”

“Okay. An hour.”

Marcus and Adrian had been friends since they were 12. When Adrian’s parents divorced and his dad moved to California, Marcus’s house became his second home. Marcus was the safe space. The one who told him to eat, sleep, and stop coding at 4am. They were basically brothers.

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In the early evening, a black Rolls Royce pulled up in front of Mary’s Hall in Midtown.

The driver opened the door and a young handsome man stepped out. Majestic.

Adrian Cross.

Dark blue tuxedo. White shirt. No tie. Watch that cost more than a car. His face was sharp, jaw defined, hair cut clean. He moved like he didn’t care who was watching.

And people were watching.

Heads turned the moment he walked toward the entrance.

If looks could teleport a person, Adrian would have been in 10 different places in 10 seconds.

Inside the hall, a talk show was already going on. A panel of lawyers on stage. But half the room stopped listening.

“Oh my God, is he an angel?” a law student whispered.

“I’m getting his contact after they’re done with whatever it is they are doing,” another one said, fixing her hair.

“My dad should know him. I’ll tell him to introduce us, then we’ll kick things off,” a third girl whispered to her friend.

“Oh my God! He’s looking at me,” another one gasped.

He wasn’t. He was looking at the exit.

On the other hand, Adrian was having it rough. Regretting why he listened to Marcus.

“I’m not a lawyer. I build software,” he thought as he sat in the back row. “What am I doing here?“

After 10 minutes, annoyed and frustrated, he stood up. He walked to the side of the hall near the big windows and pretended to listen. Meanwhile in his head he was calculating the algorithm for the new AI feature his team was launching next month.

It wasn’t even half an hour before the first half of the program ended. People stood up. Greeting. Networking. Passing business cards like candy.

Mr. Hart, the sponsor of the program and CEO of Hart Legal Group, spotted him immediately.

“Mr. Adrian!” he said, walking over fast. “I appreciate that you came. I’m well pleased.” He stretched out his hand for a handshake.

Adrian took it. “It’s only right I came. You help us a lot with pro bono cases for our nonprofit arm.” His voice was polite, but distant.

Before Mr. Hart could say more, Adrian noticed two other men walking toward him. Suits. Smiles. Business cards already in hand.

He excused himself. “If you’ll excuse me.”

All he could think was “I don’t want to spend another minute here.”

He decided to take the exit at the back. Quieter. Faster.

“Mr. Adrian! Been a while,” a voice called out.

A man in his fifties appeared, with a young woman beside him. Daughter, probably.

“Hello, Mr.?” Adrian said.

“Smith,” Marcus said from behind, appearing like a shadow.

“Yes. Mr. Smith.”

“Good, good,” Mr. Smith said. “This is my daughter. She admires you so much.” He pointed to the girl beside him. She was wearing a red dress and too much perfume.

Adrian scanned her from head to toe once. Polite. Empty.

“Uncle,” the girl said, smiling.

Adrian blinked. “Uncle? Who’s your uncle? I don’t even know your father,”he thought.

“Dad, I’d prefer if Uncle drops me off at the villa after,” she said, twirling her hair.

“We have other places to be, so that won’t be possible,” Marcus cut in from behind, deadpan.

“Oh,” she said sadly, like she thought Adrian would argue.

“If that’s all, I would love to take my leave,” Adrian said.

“Mr. Adrian,” another voice came from his left.

“Can’t I just be at peace?“ he thought.

He turned. It was someone he knew from a tech summit last year.

“Mr. Adrian, I was informed you’re here. Permit me, I need a few minutes of your time.”

“Can we do that at the office some other time?” Adrian said.

“No problem! No problem! I’ll come around,” the man said quickly.