Halftime

chapter 42

I double checked the address that Mark had sent me and the apartment I was currently standing outside of.

Mark had emailed me the address yesterday and I told him I would meet him here. Only now I was second guessing myself because there was no sign of Mark. Not even the car that he drove, and I was not about to go inside by myself.

Besides, Mark had told me to wait until he was here. Or that he'd wait for me.

But he was late. Or had ditched me and went inside already. I had no way of knowing. Unless I called him. He had also given me his personal phone number.

I'd refused to save it. But now I was really questioning whether to call him or not. Despite my knowledge on what generally went down in these types of meetings, I'd never actually experienced one. I was a little out of my depth here.

I waited another ten minutes and still no sign of Mark. Ugh fuck it.

I grabbed my phone, opening the email he'd sent me and pressed on the number he'd attached. My phone rang a few times before he answered.

"Mark Johnson speaking," he answered.

I cleared my throat, "it's Violet. Where are you?"

"Oh Vee," he said, "I would've called you but I didn't have your number. The traffic is really bad. I'm almost there though."

I let out a sigh, "you couldn't have emailed?"

"Texting and driving is illegal. Not to mention extremely dangerous," he said.

"Ok whatever. I'm waiting outside for you then."

"You could just go inside. Tell them you work for me. Ask a few basic questions yourself. It would be good experience."

I furrowed my brow, "what? No. I'm not prepared for that. I mean, I don't even know what this meeting is for."

"Violet," he drawled out, "I gave you the case file, correct?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"And you have read over every single detail at least ten times, correct?"

I scowled at how he had guessed that, "yes."

"So you know the case. You know what type of questions to ask. This is a follow up meeting. I've already met with Carter once before to discuss what was happening and the potential outcomes of the trial. Just get information we can use as defence. You can do this."

I bit my lip in thought. I really didn't know much about these types of real life law situations. But Mark was right, as much as I didn't want to admit it. It was good experience. And I could do this.

"Ok," I said, "fine. Ok."

"Good," he said, "I'll be there soon."

I hung up and faced the building again. I squared my shoulders then rang the doorbell to Carter Thompson's apartment.

"Hello," he said through the speaker.

"Hi. I'm Violet Reeves. I work for Mark Johnson. Here to meet with you."

"Oh," Carter said, "where is he?"

"He's stuck in some traffic. He'll be here soon. May I come up?"

"Oh yes. Of course." He buzzed me through the door and up the elevator. Carter lived on the tenth floor in a pretty decent sized apartment. I looked around as he let me in. It was a pretty cute apartment if I did say so myself.

I'd already seen photos of Carter but in person he was definitely a lot bigger. I refused to let him see how out of my comfort zone I was.

I'd read over every detail of this case. Carter Thompson, a twenty-seven year old male, with bipolar disorder. He was in a brief relationship with Camille Martin. According to Carter it was a toxic and abusive relationship. On both parts.