Cocky Corporal - April Canavan Page 0,1

to start pounding so hard I couldn't hear anything else the woman said. Until she put her hands on my shoulders and her face was right next to mine.

"Breathe. Take a deep breath, or it's not going to go away. Count with me." She took a deep breath. "One." In. "Two." Out. "Three." In again.

After what felt like forever, the panic started to subside. I realized that I'd created a scene. It just made the whole thing worse.

"My son, Lorenzo, doesn't like crowds either." She said with another bright smile. "My name is Soraya. I take it you're not used to the city. I used to love it, but as my son and step-daughter are starting to grow up, I almost wish that we lived out of the city, ya know?"

Soraya pulled a piece of candy out of her purse and offered it, which I gladly took. Rule number one in my family: absolutely never turn down chocolate.

She was talking so fast it was almost impossible to keep up, but I was thankful for her. Especially when more people filtered in and the doors closed behind them.

Realizing too late that I'd taken her chocolate without introducing myself, I decided to cut her off the next time she opened her mouth.

"My name's Casper." I told her quietly. "Casper Townsend. And you're right. I'm not from the city. I'm only here for a month."

Soraya grimaced, before patting my hand like a mother would her child. "I feel so bad for you. Here visiting, and you get stuck in traffic court. What did you do?"

The unintentional reminder of Cassie had my palms sweating almost immediately, but I couldn't let her see. Instead, I did my best to swallow the panic down and offered a small smile. Although, it probably looked like I was constipated. "I double parked in an ambulance loading zone at the hospital."

Soraya whistled. "Damn, girl. You've got balls. I wouldn't do that, even though I've got a get out of jail free card."

Another door opened, this time in the very front of the room. A judge entered wearing the black robes and everything, very official looking. He was an older, stern-looking man, but he looked like he could be my grandfather instead of a judge. Although, the judges at home never bothered with formalities like robes. The last time I'd actually had to go to court, I think the judge was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops when he went through the docket.

"Let's get this over with," the judge interrupted. "I have plans for my weekend, and they don't include staying here any longer than necessary." He held a hand out, and the bailiff that I'd missed completely handed him a pile of papers.

"Soraya Morgan." The judge sounded surprised. "Why are you on my docket?"

Soraya blushed as she stood up, but not before grabbing a present out of her bag and shooting me a devious smile.

"Judge Carter, I am soooo sorry. Graham got me a new car for my birthday. Instead of doing the smart thing and letting the driver take me to work, I thought I'd be smart and do it myself. Except I parked too close to a fire hydrant."

Judge Carter glared at her. "Can I assume that you've already handled that?"

"Oh yes." Soraya nodded furiously, her smile slightly wobbly. "I donated to the New York Fallen Firefighter Foundation, the New York Police and Fire Widows' and Children Fund, and Graham is signed up to sponsor their benefit this year as well." I saw her flush all the way up the back of her tan neck. "It was the least we could do."

Soraya started walking toward the massive oak bench, where Judge Carter was holding a gavel and pointing it at her with one eyebrow raised. When the bailiff moved to stop her, the judge waved him off and held out a hand for the present.

"What's that?" He narrowed his eyes at the plain brown package.

"It’s tickets to the Broadway show your wife mentioned wanting to see. And I swear, I don't mind paying the fine. But if you could make sure that Graham doesn't find out, I would be eternally grateful." She coughed gently. "If he finds out I got another ticket, he'll give me no choice, but to use a driver. And I like my independence." The overly saccharine way she was talking was almost hysterical, but I couldn't blame her.

I'd hate having to use a driver, too. Also my wanting to be independent