1. Billionaire's Nanny Bride
"How do you plead, Mr. Tucker?" The judge regarded the litigant with a hard stare: her dark, beady eyes looking over the rim of her glasses.
"Look. That guy had it coming. I can't stand stuck-up Yankee fans." Adam Tucker stated nonchalantly. The superstar Red Sox player stood there in a finely pressed, gray suit, arms crossed, a causal smile on his face. This wasn't the first time his rowdy personality had gotten him a night in jail or a few hours in a courtroom.
"You know what surprises me, Mr. Tucker? That you would be foolish enough to get yourself in a fight, land yourself in jail and then conduct yourself in this manner in my courtroom, right after the death of your wife." The judge sat up in her seat.
"How does that matter?" Adam grumbled. "She was almost as bad as a Yankee fan." He flashed a malicious smile.
"Do you think this is some sort of game?" The judge's voice was level. "Do you realize that if I decide to send you to jail for this act of tomfoolery, you'll lose any and all custody of your little girl?" She paused, looking through some photographs, scattered in front of her. One of her fingers reached up, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. " Young Lacey, correct? I think she might be better off without her hothead father. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. So did your wife."
Adam stiffened at the declaration. He had been so sure of himself seconds before but now he felt tightness in his chest that suffocated him. There was very little he was happy about when he thought of his marriage, but Lacey was the shining light in the middle of all of the hate and anger. To lose that would mean losing his only happiness from the last decade.
"You can't do that!" Adam snapped, kicking the chair behind him. It crashed against the gallery, causing the bailiff to rush to restrain him.
"I absolutely can. I can also assure you that, if there is another outburst like this, I'll have you forcibly removed from my courtroom." The judge peered down at Adam, a grimace on her face. "And from your daughter's life."
Adam felt his rage bubbling up inside of him. Sweat gathered at the edge of his brow, as he fought to control himself. With each passing remark, it became harder to keep his emotions under control.
"Do you see the damage you caused, Mr. Tucker?" The judge announced, holding up a photograph. The scene was that of pure chaos: broken bar stools, spilled liquor all over the floor splotches of red on the bar. After a passing moment, she held up another picture. This time, a man's busted face appeared. His eyes were swollen shut and his lip was bashed open. "Are you guilty of all this damage?"
"Yes. But … "
"Then I understand why your wife added this clause to her will. Why should a sweet little girl be in the custody of someone capable of this?
"What clause?" Adam demanded.
"Your wife didn't think you'd be an able-bodied parent once she passed away, so she has stated in her will that she would like the court to decide whether you're fit for the task. By the looks of it, I wouldn't want Lacey to stay with you for even a minute." The judge leaned forward. "Tell me, Mr. Tucker, what makes you a good parent? Convince me?" She gave him an expectant look.
Adam remained silent as he contemplated his answer. Time seemed to drag on, and the atmosphere in the room became tense. "I'm waiting, Mr. Tucker." The judge said, only adding to his frustration.
"Request for a recess!" A squat man with a pudgy face suddenly spoke up. Adam turned his head to see his lawyer looking rather nervous, a bundle of papers pinned under his arm.
The judge sighed, but nodded. "Granted." She shooed everyone away with her hand and leaned back in her chair. She gave one last, reprimanding glance in the baseball player's direction.
"Mr. Tucker. Please follow me," asked Adam lawyer. It took Adam a minute to react. He followed the lawyer and the second they entered a closed off room, he exploded.
"What the fuck was that? How could you let her speak to me that way? And to take away my daughter? There's no way in hell I'm letting anyone take my little girl away from me!" Adam paced recklessly across the room, heart pounding in his ear.
"Mr. Tucker … " The lawyer spoke quietly. "There is only one way to fix this."
"Do whatever you have to. I can't lose Lacey at any cost." Adam bellowed.
The lawyer held a written statement in his hand as he stood before the judge. There was a layer of sweat on his baldhead as he read out the counterproposal he had stipulated. " On behalf of my client, I suggest he remarries and finds Lacey a suitable, loving mother. We also ask you, your honor, to postpone sentence for a year, granted that Mr. Tucker stays out of trouble for the next twelve months."
The judge gave him a hard look. "I want to see the completion of these proceedings no later than three months from tomorrow or custody of the child will be granted to her aunt. That's my final judgment." She slammed her gavel down.
From the corner of the room, Adam watched. He had enough money to find a temporary wife for himself. He just needed to find someone he could put up with for a year. That was a small price to pay for his daughter.
***
"What do you mean you're letting me go? You can't let me go. I'm the star of this whole production!" Marie Laurie's face was now turning red with anger. "This has to be a mistake."
"I'm sorry Marie, but we just don't think you're fit for this production company. The other girls have been complaining about you and, we've decided that it's more reasonable to simply let you go." Marie's production manager shrugged his shoulders.
"Who complained about me? Was it Kristina? I never liked her. Or was it McKenzie? That bitch." Marie growled, going through the list of her former co-workers.
"This is exactly why we have to let you go. We simply cannot tolerate that sort of language and behavior. We're looking for classy actors, who know how to present themselves both on and off the stage." The man ran his fingers through his hair, now irritated by the whole conversation.
"Are you saying I'm not classy? Do you even know whom you're talking to? I'm Marie Laurie, daughter of John Laurie, multi-billionaire John Laurie. I've been going to dinner parties since I was in the first grade!" Marie spat, her cheeks turning red. "And I don't need you or my father's money to get to the top of this business. Just you wait. I'll become a famous Broadway actress all on my own!" Marie's voice rose in pitch the more worked up she got. Her full head of strawberry blonde hair was now a wild mess as she kept tugging on its curly ends. "I don't need you!" She shouted in the production manager's face. "And I hope McKenzie actually breaks a leg on stage." With her lips pressed into a hard frown, she turned on her heels and left, making her way onto the crowded New York streets.
"They're a bunch of fools. Getting rid of me? The show is going to crash and burn." Marie grumbled to herself as she walked down the sidewalk, barely paying attention to her surroundings. Angry gripes emerged from nearby people as she nearly barreled into several unsuspecting pedestrians. "If they think this will stop me, they have another thing coming!" Marie shouted at no one in particular.
Her hands were clutched into fists by her side as her mind wandered back to her parents. She still remembered the day she had left home for good. Her parents were adamant about her continuing her education at business school, but Marie knew she had to follow her dreams. If she didn't at least try to pursue an acting career, she would have never been able to live with herself. So she had dropped out of college and moved to New York, bringing all the money and belongings she could carry with her.
Unfortunately, her money took off faster than her career. Now, she was broke, and after this afternoon, unemployed. Marie dreaded the thought of working some menial job, just to be able to finance her dream. She couldn't imagine herself waiting tables at some gaudy restaurant or be a barista at Starbucks.
This was all her parents' fault. If they had simply supported her, none of this would be happening right now. I don't need them. I don't need anyone! I'll get back on my feet in no time. With this newfound inspiration, she stopped at a local café, dishing out her last twenty-dollar bill for a coffee and muffin.
She sat down, and grabbed the newspaper on the nearby table. She grabbed it and glanced through, looking for something interesting. Finally, she relented and turned to the Wanted section. Maybe someone was looking for an actor, she thought.
The very first ad that caught her eye: Wanted: Single woman, age 20-25. Fit. Attractive. Live-in nanny. Compensation set at $500,000. Please call (567) 222-3456.