Page 58 of Dirty Judge

REFERS TO A SITUATION WHERE ONE PERSON MAKES UNLAWFUL THREATS OR OTHERWISE ENGAGES IN COERCIVE BEHAVIOR THAT CAUSES ANOTHER PERSON TO COMMIT ACTS THAT THEY WOULD OTHERWISE NOT COMMIT.

OLIVIA

Two Weeks Later

Judge Asshole (Don’t Change His Name Again)

I asked you for that Dawson case file an hour ago.

Your research is still giving “surface level” to me.

Where are those dockets I asked for?

My feet throbbed in my new heels as I ran from the library to chambers for the umpteenth time today.

Every time I completed one task, Judge Ashton smacked me with another, and I was starting to feel like his task list was personal.

More than personal.

He was still making me pick him up in the mornings, but I was putting a stop to that at the end of this week. And after I caught sight of my watch telling me that I’d taken twenty thousand steps in this building today, I was calling it a night.

With or without his permission.

Carrying his latest request into his office, I set it on the edge of his desk.

“Miss Spencer, I need you to go to Logan’s and grab my dinner.” He spoke without looking up at me. “Then I need you to pick up my dry cleaning for the week.”

“The dry cleaning place is closed at this hour, Judge Ashton.” I tried not to roll my eyes. “And I’m not driving fifteen miles outside the city just to get you dinner.”

“I wasn’t making a request, Miss Spencer.”

“You had to be, since you’re asking for things that aren’t in my job description.” I shrugged. “But if you like, I can go down to the judicial oversight office and tell them just how terribly you’ve been treating me lately.”

“I’ve been treating you exactly how you deserve.” His eyes finally met mine.

“Like shit?”

“Like someone who owes me something.” His eyes darkened.

“The only thing I owe you is two weeks’ notice, Judge Ashton,” I said. “I just can’t afford to quit right now.”

“So, when exactly will you be able to do that?”

“You’ll find out when I place the letter on your desk.”

“If you think I won’t sue you for the breach of contract?—”

“I know you will,” I said. “It won’t be until I at least reach the proper amount of months.”

He clenched his jaw.

“Well, until then…” He glared at me. “You can pick up my dinner at The Mint Bistro. You’re more than welcome to pick up something for yourself as well. I’m feeling quite generous tonight.”

“Well, thank you very much.” I forced a smile. “I’ll do that.”

“So glad we’re on the same page.” He took his credit card from his wallet and slid it toward me. “You can leave now.”

I stepped out and waited until I heard the click of his chamber doors locking behind me.