Page 103 of Merry Fake Bride

He clutches a host of papers in one hand while thumbing through his phone. “They should be here soon.”

“I have a lot to get through today, Mr. Donovan. Where are they?” the judge drawls, still not looking up from whatever they are writing in front of them.

“They’re coming,” Mr. Donovan says hurriedly, glaring down at his phone. “They should be.”

“Two minutes,” says the judge. “Then we start.”

Augustus glances at me with an encouraging smile.

“Deep breaths,” he murmurs.

Deep breaths don’t work.

I feel sick.

My stomach is folding itself inside out while my intestines wrap and writhe around one another, amplifying the nauseating sensation.

My heart pounds so fast that the back of my teeth ache and pressure builds in my skull behind my eyes.

I’m so nervous, I’m either going to throw up or pass out.

It’s the longest two minutes of my life.

“Alright, let’s proceed.” The judge finally looks up. “Silver Canopy versus Just A Sweet Thing,” she recites. “With Silver Canopy running late to represent themselves, the floor is yours, Mr. Cardiff.”

Augustus steps around the table, papers in hand, and smiles.

Most of what he says is beyond me.

Despite the late nights I spent poring over documents, the exact legality of this case isn’t something I’ve been able to grasp.

On the outside, Just A Sweet Thing has been in my family and on that spot for generations with only two name changes in its life.

That immediately gives us a specific claim on the land rights swiped out from under us years ago by Silver Canopy, a deal that Augustus highlights as very underhanded and frankly illegal in some regards.

The judge is inclined to agree.

Then it’s my turn.

My hands tremble violently.

My heart pounds and shakes my voice with each word I force past my lips, but I do it.

I talk about the joy the bakery brings, the awards we’ve won, and even the work we’ve done in maintaining the building, even when it wasn’t our responsibility.

I discuss the eye-watering rent increase and the stress it has caused me and my parents, as well as the low offers from Silver Canopy intended to trick us into selling.

I’m scolded a few times for speaking on pure emotions rather than impact but by the time I’m finished, I’m somewhat calmer.

I’ve crossed the point ofstressedand made it to some peaceful place on the other side.

“Still no representative from Silver Canopy?” The judge fixes Mr. Donovan with a piercing stare and despite the phone in his hand, he shakes his head.

“No, your honor. There’s no one.”

“Interesting.” The judge scribbles something down in front of her and sighs. “You’ve presented a strong case, Mr. Cardiff. Miss Miller?”

“Y–Yes, your honor?”