The Christmas season was always one of Belleâs favorites ever since she was a little girl. The songs, the decorations, the food â there was always so much Belle enjoyed about it, but for the past couple of years, her Christmas spirit had been unusually low which disappointed her. She wasnât exactly sure what it was â the fact that the cases she dealt with around this time were particularly saddening or maybe because she had been alone for the past couple of Christmases? No doubt a mix of both, but she always tried to hide her broken spirit because those that knew her knew that she was always festive and when she wasnât, well, something was wrong.
The party tonight was helping a little bit what with the music and festive people, but not as much as she liked. The case she was currently dealing with was weighing heavily on her mind and because of the time of the year, it made it all the more depressing. It was a custody battle - parents deciding on the custody of their child right before what was supposed to be a happy holiday, but unfortunately this case made it anything but that.Â
With a light sigh, Belle made her way up to the bartender and ordered an unsweet tea â not that she didnât like sweet tea, she just preferred to sweeten it herself. After paying and receiving her drink, Belle made her way over to the table that held the sugar, creamer and other condiments and it was there where she saw /him/. Evander Gold. The opposing council on her child custody case and that wasnât even the first case that they dueled each other on but it was probably the most difficult one, to be honest. They both had their views of each parent and both held the childâs best interest at heart. She had to admit, though, he was /very/ good at his job and whenever they went against one another, it was always a challenge. A fun one. Not to mention he had a very endearing and charming quality to him, but she wouldnât dare admit that out loud.
Nor was she particularly pleased about him being here. âExcuse me, Mr. Goldâ She said politely as she reached over to grab a couple of packets of sugar, somewhat intentionally making her presence known, but being polite about it, of course. As politely as she could, anyway.Â
He wouldnât have paid any mind to the hand reaching for the sugar in front of him if it were anyone else. At the all-too-familiar voice, he paused with his stirring and, after a beat-long pause, looked aside to the woman. âMs. French.âÂ
In a small town it wasnât terribly surprising to run into someone you knew on any given day, and if he was being honest with himself, he wasnât shocked to see his opponent. He just found it strange to see her at a celebration, something so lighthearted and casual as a Christmas Lighting party. He had never seen the woman beyond the courtroom, conference room, or office.Â
Another packet of sugar was added to his mostly black coffee as he considered the stiff awkwardness of this. Then, after a few stirs, he lifted the cup and turned to his peer. âFancy seeing you here, away from the courtroom and the books.â A lopsided grin turned into a smirk as he looked her over. He was sure he was the last person she wanted to see, and he wasnât happy to see her either. Nor was he disappointed. It was casual indifference, he supposed, that he felt towards the other counselor. He brought the cup to his lips, blowing on the hot beverage; as chilly a night as it was, it wouldnât take long for the drink to cool enough to sip, but he blew on it as a habit. A scorched tongue wasnât something he felt like dealing with.Â
âThe gaiety of the season can draw even the most studious from their desks, it seems.âÂ