Objection, Your Honor

Chapter3: The Collision

Claire had finally gotten acquainted with the process.

Walk. Smile. Place notebook. Don’t spill. Don’t trip. Don’t make eye contact for too long.

“We haven’t given these out to some people and they are leaving,” Katherine said when Claire came back to the prep table to take more bags of souvenirs.

“Where’s Anna?” Claire asked, looking around. Anna was supposed to be helping her on this side of the room.

“I haven’t seen her,” Katherine said, frowning. “This is the second time you’re going out without her. She probably went to the restroom again.”

Meanwhile, the person in question had gone to “rest” as she would say.

Anna was in the staff lounge, scrolling on her phone with her shoes off.

Looking at her mom and her best friend working hard, Anna felt two things.

Satisfied. Because she was fulfilling her “fleshy wish” to not be on her feet all night.

“I’m tired,” she had told herself 20 minutes ago.

Guilty. Because she left her friend to do double work.

“She’s more than capable,” she mumbled to herself, then went back to her phone.

——

Back in the ballroom, Claire was on her third round. Her feet hurt. Her blazer had a water stain. But she was getting faster.

That was when it happened.

Clash!

A tray wobbled. Notebooks scattered.

Claire’s head snapped down. “I’m sorry sir!” she said immediately, bending to pick up the leather notebooks that had scattered all over the marble floor. She started dusting his shoes too without thinking.

The man was tall. Like, really_tall. 6’4 at least. She had to tilt her head all the way up.

He was wearing a dark blue tuxedo. Expensive. He didn’t look at the mess. He was looking down at her.

Adrian sighed. “Don’t bother.” His voice was low. Tired.

Claire kept picking things up anyway. Her hands were shaking a little.

That’s when he noticed something on the floor. A small jotter. One of those cheap spiral ones.

He bent, picked it up, and flipped it open.

Pages of notes. Case names. Marbury v. Madison. Contract breach. Elements of negligence.

And in the margins, Bar Exam Friday. Don’t panic. You got this.

He closed it and handed it back to her.

“Attending or volunteering?” Adrian asked.

Claire stood up fast, clutching the jotter to her chest. “Erm, volunteering sir,” she answered, fidgeting with the hem of her blazer.

He stared at her for one second. Then he reached up and unclipped the gold name tag from his tuxedo. INVITED GUEST - ADRIAN CROSS.

He held it out to her.

“You should focus on this now,” he said. Then he walked away. No explanation.

Claire stood there holding a $10,000 man’s name tag like it was going to bite her.

“What just happened?”

“Miss?”

Another voice.

Claire turned. It was the other guy from earlier. Same age as the tall one. Friendlier face.

“Claire,” she said automatically.

“Miss Claire. Marcus. Adrian’s assistant,” he said, smiling. “I hope to meet you some other time.”

“Huh, oh, okay sir,” Claire said, completely confused. She was still holding the name tag.

“See you some other time? Does he know me? Some other time? He must be confused,” she thought as Marcus walked away too.

---

On the other side of the hall, Marcus was grinning like an i***t.

This was the first time Adrian had paid attention to a woman. Ever.

“I don’t do relationships,” Adrian always said. “I do code, contracts, and sleep.”

But he stopped. He talked. He gave her his name tag.

“She’s a pretty one,” Marcus thought. “Who wouldn’t stop to look?”

He was still grinning when Adrian came up beside him.

“You good?” Adrian asked, checking his watch.

“Very fine,” Marcus said, still grinning. “Very, very fine.”

Adrian frowned. “What?”

“Nothing, boss,” Marcus said. “Just thinking. 18 minutes was a long time.”

Adrian didn’t answer. He was looking back toward where the girl was. She was talking to her aunt now, still holding the name tag, looking lost.

Volunteering. Law student. Bar on Friday.

He didn’t know why he gave her the tag. He just did.

---

Claire didn’t tell Brianna right away. She finished her round first. Hands still shaking.

When she got to the back, Brianna grabbed her arms. “GIRL. WHAT WAS THAT??”

“What?” Claire said, playing dumb.

“Don’t ‘what’ me. The guy in the tux. The one everyone was whispering about. He gave you something.”

Claire looked down at her hand. The gold name tag. ADRIAN CROSS.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “He said I should focus.”

Brianna’s eyes went wide. “Focus on WHAT, Claire?? On him??”

“No! On the bar!” Claire said, but even she didn’t believe it.

Katherine came over and saw the tag. Her eyebrows went up. “Where did you get this?”

“A man gave it to me,” Claire said. “He told me to focus.”

Katherine and Brianna exchanged a look.

Later that night, back in her apartment in Brooklyn, Claire set the name tag on her desk next to her bar prep books.

She picked up her jotter. The page he’d seen was still open.

I’m scared I’ll fail. I’m scared I’ll be in debt forever. But I’m here.

She didn’t know who Adrian Cross was. She didn’t know why he gave her his tag.

But for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel invisible in that room.

She felt seen.

On the 40th floor in Manhattan, Adrian was back at his desk. Coding.

Marcus dropped a coffee on his desk.

“You gonna tell me why you gave a volunteer your guest pass?”

Adrian didn’t look up from his screen.

“No.”

But he didn’t throw the thought away either.

Claire. Volunteering. Bar on Friday.

18 minutes. That’s all he planned to stay.

And somehow, he was still thinking about her an hour later.