Page 114 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

DENVER

“Your Honor, the fact that they presented this patient with a statement is irrelevant. The dosage of this drug in pill form is exactly the same as the dosage in injection, and the difference in the price is astronomical. It’s highway robbery, and they can’t expect young patients already suffering with cancer to be able to swallow down a huge pill.

The injection is medically necessary in plenty of cases, as you can see by the documents I’ve submitted to the court.

” Brent tossed his hands towards the judge as she read over several pieces of paper.

“Yes, but insurance has stipulations that state that the price may or may not be covered under them, and that’s not my client’s responsibility to determine.

Blaine Pharmaceuticals has absolutely nothing to do with a patient’s choice of insurance, nor do they have any responsibility for the treatment plan of any individual patient.

” The woman in opposing counsel was young, and fierce, but he could swear she had a look in her eye that said she completely agreed with his argument—that just wasn’t her job.

The judge peered over the top of her paper to rake her eyes up and down Brent’s body.

“Miss Danforth, while I understand your argument, he makes a very valid point. Why the big difference in the price of two identical drugs?”

The young lawyer’s face pinked, and she glanced over at the CEO of Blaine Pharmaceuticals before swallowing. “The price is determined by availability, Your Honor.”

“Bullshit,” Brent spat, standing. The judge shot him a warning look.

“It’s a scam, and a really shady one. If an insurance company refused to pay this outrageous amount, no one in their right mind who is battling cancer could afford an out-of-pocket expense like this at this stage of their treatment.

If it’s available for pennies on the dollar in one form, then all it takes is a skilled nurse, and a tech to compound it in a pharmacy to administer it to someone that desperately needs it.

Your client is making millions on robbing the sick and poor.

It’s a slap in the face to every person that formulated a drug to counter terminal disease. ”

Judge Harlow softly nodded in agreement and glanced at the trembling lawyer. “While I’m not enthusiastic about his choice of vocabulary, he makes another valid point, Miss Danforth. Do you have any documents to submit to the court regarding the reason for the difference?”

The CEO shook his head and seethed next to his representation as she hung her head. “No, Your Honor.”

“Very well then…judgment for the plaintiff in the amount of $11,543.58…” She pounded the gavel and stood as she leaned over her bench and narrowed her eyes at Brent.

“And Mr. Stratford, I’ve already heard about your antics.

I can admire your work offering pro-bono aid to those less fortunate, but the next time you walk into my courtroom wearing jeans, and a t-shirt beneath a blazer, you’ll be asked to leave, and your case thrown out. Do we understand each other?”

Brent gulped and tried not to smile. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Good. You might have been a big shot in Boston, and I don’t care what your last name is.

Your wardrobe needs to reflect what we do here.

I advise you to keep that in mind. The court will dismiss for lunch.

” The judge’s back popped as she scooted her chair back, and the courtroom rustled with those eager to leave as she trudged to her chambers.

Brent stepped over to the timid lawyer, who had been left to sulk on her own.

“Sorry about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re fine. I didn’t really wanna represent that piece of shit anyway. I just really needed the experience. I kinda blew it.” She gathered her files and tucked them into her arm as she shouldered her purse. “So…you’re from Boston?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. Stratford…you’re the senator’s son.” Her mouth curled up in the corner, but he didn’t see any sign of animosity.

“Yeah, not anymore.”

Danforth offered a hand, and a soft smile, and Brent shook it firmly. She was a pretty girl. Soft brown hair, freckles, and a nice tight grip that suggested she was more than meets the eye. “I can see that,” she smiled.

“Just graduated?” he asked, smiling back.

“Not too long ago. Recently married too.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks…Brent, was it?”

He nodded and glanced down at her ring. She obviously married somebody wealthy. “Yeah. Pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

“Brynn,” she said, releasing his hand. “I’ll have to remember not to underestimate a guy in chucks. Seems I’ve got a lot still to learn about law.”

“I’ve got a small office in downtown Denver if you ever need some advice…you know…free of charge.”

“Might take you up on that. Thanks.”

Brent tossed a couple of fingers up, and smirked. “See ya.”

Wren’s favorite burger joint was conveniently parked a short distance between Denver’s courthouse, and her studio, and he walked in her front doors, jerking his head up in salutation at the flamboyant front desk guy, Matthew, who wore an immortal smile, and always made him laugh when he came in.

“Well…you look glowy. Must have been a good day in court,” Matt grinned, biting the cap of his pen.

“It was. Although the judge is a battle ax that slowly dropped on my wardrobe. I barely left with my scrotum intact.”

Matthew’s eyebrows jumped off his face. “Not the scrotum! Red would be real sad about that. I heard it’s flawless.” Brent snickered as he passed the counter and tossed him a bag of french fries. “They say seeing is believing, you know?”

“No, Matty.”

Matt slid a french fry between his teeth and shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Brent’s smile was wide as he strolled down the hallway, and into Wren’s workspace.

Seemed she was hungry enough to eat the end of her paintbrush as she stared at a canvas that was vibrant with bright paint.

He reached around her from behind and laid her bag on the small worktable.

Wren melted into his arms. He’d never get tired of that.

“It’s not happening,” she sighed, still staring at her canvas.

“Burger break?”

“You only get Denzel’s when you win a case.” Wren turned in his hold and dropped her brush to the easel before her arms locked around his neck. “Did my bitch kick ass in court today?”

“He did,” Brent smiled, kissing that vulgar mouth. “And then the dusty hen kicked mine. I got reprimanded for not wearing a suit again.”

“I’ll allow you one . One suit for court appearances. The rest are for…hiding the Stratford.”

“Oooo…I like that. Speaking of my Stratford …did you tell Matt I had a flawless ballsack?” Wren snorted as she threw her head back in giggles. “Wren…you know Matt’s got no chill. He flat out told me there’s five pictures of me in his spank bank.”

“There’s eight, actually.”

“Jesus…” He nipped her lip and started unloading their lunch. “What time is your client coming in this afternoon?”

Wren unwrapped her burger and perched on one of the stools by the worktable. She took a massive bite and tried to talk through her food. Another thing that would never get old. “Four. That tattoo’s gonna take at least three hours. You’re gonna have to pick up Leigh from the airport.”

Brent took the other stool and dipped his fries into his ranch. “Do we know how long she’s staying?”

Wren sipped from her straw. “Not sure. However long Ryan stays in Boston with Rhae-Rhae. She’s getting so huge.”

Brent paused his chewing and got lost in his thoughts, not realizing he was staring at her midsection. Wren broke his concentration when she kicked his shin. “Sorry…what?”

“If you want me to put her up in a hotel, I will.”

He swallowed his food and hastily shook his head. “No, no…it wasn’t that. I’m fine with her staying as long as she wants. I was just thinking…”

“About?”

“What’s the last you heard on Sarah and Kane?” he asked, sipping his drink. Wren did the same.

“I talked to her last night. They’re still working on the house. Ran into a little snag getting one of the contractors to keep certain parts of the house original, but they’re good.”

Sarah’s face fluttered through his mind, and he pictured her in some ancient structure, ordering people around while swollen with Kane’s baby.

It inevitably turned into an image of Wren in their simple kitchen looking the same way.

Their life since moving here was so simple compared to the lavish penthouse he used to live in.

It gave him the sort of peace and happiness that he often thought he’d never feel again after everything that they’d been through together.

Their place was just a single-family home right outside of the city.

It had a small porch and a decent back yard.

He’d never pictured himself loving something so plain, and to the rest of the world, it seemed like they didn’t have millions stacked away in their bank account.

Loving her was more than enough. This life was more than enough.

But there still seemed like something was missing.

That little black box in his top dresser drawer was starting to burn a hole through the bottom and he continued to fight the long battle in his mind of when and how to ask her the big question.

“Your fucking hair’s gonna catch fire if you keep that up…whatever it is,” she smirked, taking another bite of her dripping cheeseburger.

“Do you remember what I asked you before I ripped your clothes off in that elevator back in Boston?” he asked. She sucked ketchup off her thumb and eyed him seductively.

“You think I’d forget the first time you jumped my bones?”

“I’d hope for somebody that thinks I have immaculate nuts, that answer would be no.” He flashed back to the day that Conrad handed him a similar box…the ring inside it that started this whole nightmare.